Note from Kanuro5: I'm glad I finished this chapter today. My little brother graduated from high school today and I am proud of him, this first part of the story is actually dedicated to my little brother and the crazy stuff that we did to each. But aside from family matters, this chapter is going to set up the battle between Rome and Germania! Enjoy!
XII
The Prelude to Battle
Day 25 of the Campaign
Six days have passed since the barbarians kings met and the Germanian army is moving south at an alarming pace to engage the Roman legion, yet it was unbeknownst to the Romans. Throughout the six days, new mercenaries have been added to the legion; thanks to Lucius' Mercenary Captain, they have recruited three units of barbarian mercenary spearmen making up 300 men from relatively obscure tribes. At this moment for the Romans, it is past midday in the march and the legion is taking their half an hour rest. The legionaries sat on the road resting and enjoying their midday meal as they tried their best to ignore the frosty chill of the wind. There was no denying it, winter was coming, and it was only a matter of time before snow began to descend from the heavens. But Lucius could not afford to have his thoughts linger on the possibility of snow at that moment; he had to think about what he would have to do when he would eventually fight the barbarians.
At the front of the legionary column, Lucius took a moment to gaze at his resting men, observing how their health was holding up.
"The men seem rather rested, General," Antonius said, coming from behind the General.
"That they are. Which they will need to be, if we are to march three more hours before dusk."
"I agree, General…Um, General, where is Totates and his cavalry?" the Tribune asked.
"I sent him and his men on a long-range reconnaissance mission. I would have knowledge of anything that may hinder our progress," Lucius definitely answered.
"I see, that is quite the well-conceived plan, General."
"Of course it is, I would not—wait! Where…is Vitus? Where is Proculus?" Lucius muttered, twisting his head to find his sons who should have been at the front of the column with him.
"Those two? Vitus told me he and his brother were going into the forest for something, not too long ago," Antonius explained.
Lucius exhaled a mixture between a sigh and a groan and proceeded to walk in the forest to find them. After a good minute of walking, Lucius heard a muffled commotion and proceeded to investigate, only to find that it came from his two sons who were both glaring at each other with drawn swords and with Proculus' new bodyguard, Cassius, in the middle of them. Lucius gritted his teeth and clenched his fist at the sight, Have they gone mad? They are fighting at a time like this? I wonder who provoke who this time?! But before the livid father could say a word to stop this apparent fight, Cassius spoke up to the two sons, "Remember, you hold real steel within your hands, so do be wary." It finally dawned on Lucius that his two sons were simply sparring. "Ready? Go!"
Proculus struck first as he unleashed a barrage of strong yet precise attacks pushing Vitus back on the defense. Lucius' jaw dropped at what he saw, seeing his older son actually fight like a true Roman. With his eldest son's disgrace on his birthday still fresh in his mind, this "new" Proculus was different from the one he saw nearly two months ago. Instead of his heavy but slow wild strikes, he was now using quick, strong, yet controlled strikes. Unlike how he swung wildly, this time Proculus was picking his targets across Vitus' body. During their last match, Proculus moves were so sloppy that Vitus could see them coming and dodge them with ease; but this time, Proculus' controlled striking forced Vitus to block all his incoming attacks, with the metallic clanging of their swords ringing through the forest. Proculus' form was perfect, his fighting temperament was controlled, Lucius shook his head in amazement, Proculus' fighting really did improve! But yet it means little if Vitus is his opponent, for Vitus is the better fighter.
Vitus was thinking rapidly on how to escape his defensive position. He took the gambled and timed it perfectly. As Proculus swung his sword out horizontally at Vitus' neck, expecting his younger brother to block the blade; Vitus however ducked the incoming blade and pivoted and then spun out behind Proculus in one fluid motion. As Vitus' back was facing Proculus' back, using the spinning momentum; Vitus hammered the ball of his gladius against the middle of Proculus' back, sending the older brother crashing to the soft dirt in pain.
Proculus quickly recovered and jumped back up, without losing his composure. He grabbed his sword with two hands and did an overhead slash down on Vitus, nearly trying to cleave him in two. But Vitus raised his sword up and blocked the heavy attack and the brothers were now locked in a clash of sword and strength. The bigger Proculus was easily overpowering the smaller Vitus and began pushing him back. Proculus smirked at the struggling Vitus and kneed him square in his stomach, forcing Vitus to bend over in pain. Proculus then kicked out the back of his younger brother's knee, sending him crashing to the dirt. Proculus wasted no time and pounced on top of the laid out Vitus and pressed his sword to his throat and told him, "Well brother, looks like I win."
"You…cheated," Vitus softly grunted as Proculus got off of him.
"Oh come now, in battle, do you really think the enemy is going to fight with honor?"
"…No, you are right."
"Combat revolves around life and death," Cassius spoke up, "If you are not willing to do whatever it takes to preserve your life, then you do not really deserve to live."
Vitus groaned as he stood up, rubbing his stomach to ease the pain. He looked up at Proculus smugly, and smirked, "Alright then, Proculus, let us have a rematch." Proculus smiled back and accepted the rematch. Both brothers took their positions and readied their weapons, and locked their eyes intently at one another. Cassius told them to start and Proculus immediately took the offensive once again and rushed Vitus. Vitus did not move, he just stood his ground and smirked at his rushing brother. Once Proculus was within handshaking distance, Vitus took a simple step forward and kicked Proculus hard in his testicles. Proculus' eyes grew large as he let out a high-pitched wail and collapsed into the dirt, clasping his genitals. Vitus bawled out laughing at his elder brother's expense.
Proculus slowly rolled around on the ground, groaning in masculine-wounded agony with tiny pricks of tears swelling in the corner of his eye. Cassius had to turn away and shake his head, for he himself felt the pain that Proculus endured. Vitus stood over top of Proculus in triumph, still snickering at the wounded Proculus.
"Vitus…you…fuck…" Proculus groaned in a high-pitch squeal.
"Well brother, you did say the enemy is not going to fight with honor," Vitus said with a sly grin.
An intense, juvenile rage flew over Proculus. He weakly got to his feet, but was still stumbling and bent over, holding his groin. Proculus met his smug brother's eyes and shouted at him with his voice coming back an octave lower, "You bastard! I will…fucking kill you!"
Lucius received quite a humorous sight. He watched as Proculus, who was still bent over and moving in a limp, was chasing after Vitus who was running away from his elder brother whilst laughing mischievously at his misfortune. And meanwhile, Cassius stood where he was observing the wild scene, laughing hysterically. Lucius shook his head and chuckled, this brought back a flood of memories. Seeing his two sons messing with each reminded him of when they were younger and got into brotherly quarrels with each other frequently. Even when these quarrels were trivial in nature, the brothers would quickly laugh it off and go about their day forgetting what had occurred. Lucius sighed nostalgically at the thought when times were peaceful, but now was not the time for vivid daydreams.
"Proculus! Vitus! What are you two doing?" Lucius asked as he came out from hiding with a broad smirk on his face. Cassius and Vitus quickly stood at attention, while Proculus moved rather slowly to stand up straight as he was still coddling his groin.
"Father! Apologies for not telling you, but we were engaging with practice of the sword at Proculus' request," Vitus answered. He quickly examined Proculus and said, "But…such events quickly spiraled out of our control…"
"My eyes bear witness to such an event," Lucius said, "Proculus, how are you feeling?"
Proculus was taking huge inhales and exhales and bent over once again to mitigate the pain, "Oh Father…Oh Jupiter, I think one of them popped…"
"Just keep breathing and you shall be fine," Lucius chuckled.
"Vitus you bastard!" Proculus whimpered in pain, "Unlike you, I actually use these!"
Vitus stopped laughing and blushed hard. "What?! How dare you insinuate—"
"General! General Julius! Where are you?!" Antonius screamed as he ran through the forest.
"I am here! What is the problem, why do you scream like you have gone mad?" Lucius asked his Tribune who finally made his way to him.
"General! Totates has returned! And has brought news that a colossal Germanian army is on the march south!"
Lucius eyes grew large at the news, he immediately took off on a dead sprint back towards the legion with his sons and Cassius right behind him. Once out of the forest, they were greeted by a saluting Totates, who had torrents of sweat coating his dirt covered face.
"Totates! What news do you bare?" Lucius asked.
"General! Me and my men have scouted north as was your request. But we found a large Germanic army marching down this very road about 2 miles from here!"
"Two miles? They are only two miles away?!" Lucius exclaimed.
"Yes General! They are, but are separated by rolling hills and heavy forests. But they are taking the road we are taking and will be here soon!"
"How many men?"
"In the thousands! Their numbers were too great for the legion...we estimate around 12,000 men."
"Jupiter help us…" Proculus whispered to himself, distraught of the obvious disadvantage they faced.
"Father, how we can—" Vitus prepared to ask his father.
"That is not all," Totates continued, "We saw the banner of the Crimson Boar marching in front of the army; the Germanic king, Cunovindus the Butcher, leads this army."
Lucius took a moment to himself to think, "Cunovindus…he leads…interesting…"
"General, we must fall back to a more open terrain," Antonius suggested, "We cannot fight in this narrow space! The legion must have open ground to fight and the rest of the road is squeezed to a narrow passage."
"Totates, you did speak about rolling hills up north?" Lucius asked the barbarian mercenary.
"Yes, since the Germanians are marching from the north, they will have to cross several chains of hills."
"Is there any hill that is most monumental? A hill that is large enough to hold an army?"
"What relevance does this hold?" Totates perplexedly asked the Roman General.
"It could hold the relevance of victory or defeat, now quickly answer the fucking question before the Germanians move ever closer!" Lucius snapped.
"Yes, there exist such a hill that can hold an army on its summit…the hill is named after the mighty warrior, Praxus. The hill itself lies only one mile away. It is colossal compared to the other small hills that surround it. Praxus has a slope that extends into large plains that leads into the forest; the road we take, leads around the hill on the right."
"General, why are so interested about this hill?" Cassius asked.
"Because, it is the only terrain that we can fight upon. We need the high ground to fight off the number of Cunovindus' warriors." Lucius turned to the trumpeters and told them, "Sound the horn! We are moving out immediately!" The trumpeters sounded their horns in a short rhythm and all of the legionaries sprang to feet in a hurried bustle.
"But General! There…there exists a problem," Totates spoke up.
"A 'problem'? Explain?"
"The Germanians! They are most likely willing to take the hill as we speak, they are not too far away and could use the hill to stage their camp! We will have to hurry if we are to claim the hill for ourselves!"
"Damn! General, Totates is right! But it will take the legion about ten to fifteen minutes to fully organize before they can mobilize," Antonius added. "We cannot wait that long!"
"You are right. Totates, can you ride to the top of the summit?" Lucius anxiously asked.
"We cannot, our horses are too tired. My men nearly killed their horses to reach you with our news in time."
"I will go, Father," Vitus volunteered.
"As will I!" Proculus spoke up.
"No, I will not allow it!" Lucius argued.
"Father, you need men to go on the hill and claim it for Rome! Our stallions are the fastest in the legion, we can accomplish this task for you," Proculus explained. But his father was too anxious to let his sons go before he completely knew the situation.
"Do not be distressed, General. I will look over them," Cassius said firmly as he saluted Lucius.
"As would I," Antonius said confidence. Yet Lucius was still torn.
"No! I will not allow it! I cannot have you both—No, I will not! You cannot do—I-I…very well, you two may go and reach the hill," Lucius finally relented. He then turned to his aquilifer and ordered him to hand over the golden standard of the Twenty-Eighth over to Vitus. Vitus carried the large pole with the heavy golden eagle on top with confused pride and wonder.
"Father, why did you give the standard to me?"
"You will know why, Antonius will tell you once you reach the hill! Now you four, you must hurry and reach the hilltop before the Germanians! The legion depends on it!"
At those words; Antonius, Cassius, Proculus, and Vitus, jumped on their horses and race ahead of the still organizing legion to the top of the hill to prevent the Germanians from seizing the high ground. Their horses galloped along the road at terrific speed, but the horses that were in the lead were Vitus' Romulus and Proculus' Remus. These two horses were different in size and in nature; Romulus was strong and wild, while Remus was short yet tame, but what these two horses could relate to each over was the speed of their gallop. The brothers rode side-by-side on the road, braving the stinging wind that brushed off their faces. Vitus began going faster and eventually took the lead; Proculus however witnessed it, and kicked the spurs of Remus to make him gallop faster until he caught up with Vitus. Both brothers looked at each and their eyes locked together, both of them cracked a grin and without saying a word, they had a race towards the hill. For two whole minutes, both Vitus and Proculus completely forgot about their mission, they forgot about the war, and they forgot about their father; in those precious two minutes, they were having fun as brothers that they did not have in a long time. Yet sadly for them, the "race" had come to an end without a winner.
The four men finally reached the foot of Praxus Hill and basked in its intimidating size. The hill itself was covered completely with grass that extended up to a man's ankle. The hill however, was not that steep despite its apparent size; the slope that the four men took their horses up on was angled enough where the horses could still gallop at half-speed. The legionaries could walk up the hill in full pack and armor with moderate to intermediate difficulty.
After exhausting their horses making the climb to the top of the hill, Vitus was the first one to reach the hilltop. As he rode on the summit of the hill, he was amazed by the sheer land mass of the summit. The summit itself was formed in a near perfect circle with the size of holding an entire legion on the top, plus its baggage trains. There were no trees on the summit itself along with little to no stones as well. It was a perfect, flat, grassy summit on Praxus Hill.
"Vitus, why do you daydream?!" Antonius shouted at him as he passed him by, "We have to hurry to the crest of this hill!"
The four men made their way to the crest of the northern slope and stopped at the edge. Their jaws dropped at what they saw. Praxus Hill's northern slope ran down into a large open, grassy flatlands that extended out for 300 yards until the plains ran into the edge of the thick forest. And out of the edge of the forest marched over 500 Germanic swordsmen who were heading straight towards the hill; straight towards the four men.
"Jupiter's cock! Look at them all!" Proculus exclaimed.
"They already made it here this fast?" Cassius said to himself.
"Antonius! The Germanians are already closer here than the rest of the legion! What are we to do?" a panicked Vitus asked the battle-hardened Captain of the Twenty-Eighth.
"Calm yourselves! Steel your nerves and your hearts!" Antonius bellowed at the frightened young men, "Vitus, you hold the answers in your palms, raise the eagle high and ride from side-to-side around the crest."
"Yes Antonius. But what feat will this accomplish?"
"Do as I say, Commander!"
Vitus obeyed Antonius and raised the golden standard of the legion high in the air and spurred on Romulus to ride around the crest as he waved the standard like he was a man possessed. However, the Germanic vanguard kept approaching, until a bellowing horn sounded from the Germanic army, and the men stopped marching.
"They…they stopped…" said Cassius astonished.
Antonius cracked a smirk, "Of course they did."
Down the hill and across the flatland where the Germanians stopped, the Germanic king, Cunovindus the Butcher, and his Brittonic ally, Lugotorix the Bloodyhanded; rode out of the forest on their magnificent horses. They stopped at the edge of the trees and examined Praxus Hill where they could see the outline of four Roman riders with one of them carrying the golden Aquila of the Roman Legion.
"Those riders, they carry the eagles of Rome…" Cunovindus sneered under his breath.
"Damn him! Damn that Roman!" Lugotorix cursed Lucius Julius as he slammed down his fist, "He has already claimed the high ground! Cunovindus…we have lost the advantage."
"But we may still get it back. I can send my warriors up the hill and seize it from the Romans!"
"Do not play the fool, Cunovindus! His riders are already on top of the hill, which means the rest of his legion is already there. We cannot afford a battle at this moment. Besides, look at your men, they are tired from running across this great distance. They must rest. I advise you to break camp and fortify positions for the night and send out spies to collect knowledge on our…Roman adversary."
"I agree with your judgment, it seems most sound." The Germanic king turned to his trumpeter, "Alduern, sound your horn to tell our warriors to fall back within the forest and set up camp for the night." The trumpeter blew his ram's horn and signified the Germanic withdraw.
From on top of Praxus Hill, the four men watched as the numerous barbarian warriors turned around and vanished into the forest. Cassius, Proculus, and Vitus were stunned silent and it was only because of Antonius' proud laughter that snapped them out of their muteness.
"They…they are leaving! Look, they are leaving! Why do they retreat? Do they not know that it is only the four of us on this hill?" Proculus asked the chuckling Antonius. Vitus instantly understood.
"So that is why Father gave me the standard," Vitus said out loud in a display of genuine wonder, "By having the standard, it made the Germanians believe that the entire Twenty-Eighth Legion was on top of Praxus, not just the four of us. And that is why they did not advance. Proculus, our father knew this would happen."
"Your father truly has a brilliant mind," Cassius told the brothers.
Antonius chuckled louder, "Of the course the General is brilliant; a brilliant mind is needed to lead an unstoppable legion! Those Germanians are right now building a camp for the night. We must wait until the rest of the legion joins us on this hill. That reminds me, Proculus, Vitus, you two deserve to remember; deception is one of your greatest weapons in war."
Six hours had passed since the Twenty-Eighth Legion had finally walked on top of Praxus. The half-moon had already filled the sky and the blackness covered the entire area. They quickly solidified their position and established a camp at the very edge of Praxus' crest by the southern slope. They had set up barriers on the northern slope, the slope which faced the forest where the Germanians would eventually come out from. But in that forest, the Germanians were doing the same as well, they had set up camp and barricades to solidify themselves in case the Romans tried a night attack. Walking throughout the camp was the Brittonic king, Lugotorix, who made his way into Cunovindus' tent to discuss their plans.
"Who enters my tent?" Cunovindus asked with mild annoyance.
"It is I," Lugotorix answered, "I carry news about my heavy cavalry."
"Why did you fucking wait? Tell me now!"
"They have just arrived and are being situated inside this camp, I have with me over 200 horsemen."
"Such wonderful news!" Cunovindus grinned, "This upcoming battle will fall into our hands!"
"Agreed. All we need to accomplish this is to let your army rest for another day, then we leave the forest and hook around the hill and move south to draw away the Romans."
Cunovindus looked at the Brittonic king with startling confusion, "Do you speak of retreating?"
"Not retreating, Cunovindus, redeploying," Lugotorix explained, "There must be a town that the legion came from that is close to here."
"Yes, they were garrisoned in Alesia, the former Gallic capital. What are you trying to say?"
"Well…I was under the notion that since they took Praxus, we will have to lure them off the hill to fight them. And what better way to lure the Romans, than by making them believe we are attacking their city."
"But the enemy is here, and I intend to crush them here," Cunovindus replied with pride.
Lugotorix's face twisted in horror, "By Tyr, you really are a fool…you want to fight the Romans on high ground?!"
Cunovindus stared into Lugotorix's eyes and sneered, "I do. I have more men then they and my mighty warriors will slaughter all Romans on Praxus."
"But Julius still holds the high ground, you cannot—"
"A minor inconvenience, but the sheer length of Praxus will force Julius to thin his line so that he may not be flanked. And with his Roman line stretched thin, my warriors will punch a hole through his line and his legion will collapse! This plan is feasible…more so than yours."
"My plan, will not involve sacrificing an entire army!" Lugotorix shouted, pounding his fist on an end table. Cunovindus remained locking eyes with his "ally" not wanting to be looked down upon. Lugotorix exhaled and continued what he was going to say, "Listen to my words and take precedence on what I will say…since Julius holds the high ground, he will not attack because of this favored position, the initiative lies with you and your army. There are uncountable reasons why attacking an enemy on high ground is folly, so I suggest that we redeploy the army into following the road and thus marching around the hill and heading towards Alesia.
"Julius will think that we are targeting his city, so naturally he will chase us to stop our efforts and thus he will leave the safety of Praxus. That is where my cavalry will come from behind the legion as they are chasing your army, and we will strike from behind. Once Julius focuses on us, your army then turns around and attacks him; and the Romans are caught like fish in a net."
"That is a well-constructed plan, Lugotorix…but I will not be deterred. I am attacking with my army tomorrow and we will destroy the Romans, and your will be in reserve for when I need your aid," Cunovindus stated.
Lugotorix wanted to tear his hair out, he wondered if the Germanic king was even listening to him. This plan of attacking a hill was so flawed that it was an amazement how Cunovindus was even a king. But, he was right about a few things. Cunovindus did have twice the number of men than the Romans and the crest of Praxus was very long, which meant the Romans would have to stretch their lines thin to defend every inch, making it easier for the Germanians to penetrate their defensive lines. Lugotorix accepted Cunovindus' plan of battle tomorrow and told him of what to do for tomorrow's battle, but in the back of the Brittonic king's mind; he knew damn well that everything had to go right for the Germanians and everything had to go wrong for the Romans.
Inside the Roman camp, all men of importance were gathered inside General Lucius' large tent to discuss the plan for the upcoming battle. The people that were inside his tent were: Lucius' ancillaries, Totates and the mercenary leader of the spearmen, all of the centurions in the Twenty-Eighth Legion, and Vitus and Proculus along with Cassius. The tent was quite noisy with the men talking amongst themselves about what to expect when the would Germanians attack them. But once the tent flaps opened up, Primus Pilus Cossutius, the most senior centurion in the legion, bellowed out, "Attention!" Every single man in the tent stood at attention and instantly fell silent.
General Lucius Julius and his Tribune Gnaeus Antonius walked through the tent with a strong, prideful swagger. As Lucius walked up to his table, both of his sons promptly saluted him; Lucius simply nodded in appreciation of their sense of militaristic greetings at this appropriate time. Lucius faced his tent filled with his men and told them to be at ease before beginning to speak.
"As you all are aware, the Germanians are camped at the edge of the forest to the north, across the plains from the hill. And as is confirmed by our scouts, their king, Cunovindus, leads them into battle. He is an aggressive, ruthless creature, who is filled with pent-up bloodlust; which means…that the Germanic army will attack us tomorrow with an army of over 12,000 warriors."
Lucius looked at the faces of his centurions to see if they had worried or disturbed expressions on their faces. To his pride, almost all of his centurions kept their rugged and strong faces that they wore so often in battle. The only exceptions were the newly commissioned centurions who were with the inexperienced Tenth Cohort. Yet it was only natural for them as new men to be worried about such concerns as numbers against barbarians, but Lucius was sure that once they killed their fair share of barbarians, their concerns would quickly evaporate. Lucius continued.
"Because the enemy is going to attack us tomorrow, we will maintain a defensive position around this hill which is known as Praxus. Praxus, as you can tell, is great elevated ground for our legion; we have a natural protection on our flanks in the form of thick forests. On the left and right of Praxus are heavily condensed forests which protects both our flanks on the hill; which will indefinitely deny the Germanians of a flanking maneuver. That also means they will come in with a frontal assault, which is what Cunovindus craves. But the one cruel sting of attaining such a great piece of ground is that the crest itself is long in length. This means, that we must stretch our line thin to prevent them from flanking our own line."
"General, how thin are we making our three lines?" Antonius astutely asked.
"That is the thing, we are not forming our traditional three lines of infantry."
The senior centurions all looked at each other with confused faces. It was standard practice to have three lines of legionaries in formation. It was always the younger and least experienced men in the first line, the seasoned soldiers and experienced men in the second line, and the battle-hardened veterans in the third line. This was the standard system.
"We will implement a two-line legionary system," Lucius decreed, "The 5th to 10th Cohort will be in the first line, and the 1st to the 4th Cohort will be in the second line. Now, to ensure that are flanks will be protected, the first in line will be spread out to make sure the centuries on the extreme flanks will be near the edge on the forests on our left flank and right flank, thus securing all of our flanks."
"General, if I may speak freely," Centurion Flavius Caelius of the 6th Century, 5th Cohort spoke up; a brave and decorated legionary, "With the lines stretched thin, how many ranks would exist within the lines?"
"Because of the stretched lines, there will most likely be four ranks of legionaries per line." The centurions clearly did not like the news, and they made sure their faces showed it. It was common knowledge that in a line, there should exist 7 to 9 ranks of men so that legionaries could rotate easier, have more combat flexibility, and hold the enemy at bay with greater ease. But with shorter ranks, it would make the line more prone to penetration if a large mass of barbarians were trying to puncture a hole through the line and would undoubtedly tire out the men quicker.
"I understand the concern that swells within your breast, but do not take fear in it. We have faced worse odds in the past, and those of you who fought with me are aware of this. There is also one thing I must add, the 5th Cohort will not be placed in the center; I will be placing the 6th Century, 10th Cohort directly in the center of the first line."
The last statement made no sense to any of the centurions, even Antonius was perplexed by his general's statement. The center of the Roman line was usually reserved for experienced men where the fighting would generally be the thickest. But the men of the 10th Cohort have never been in battle before, and the 6th Century (the most junior century in a cohort) was the unit where the newest men who just had finished their legionary training were sent to. For the newest and youngest men in the legion, and in their first battle; they would be placed where they could expect the heaviest of the fighting. The senior centurions could not even fathom what their general was thinking.
Lucius turned his attention to the centurion of the 6th Century, 10th Cohort; his name was Silvanus Cervinus, the youngest and freshest centurion in the legion. Lucius knew all of his centurions by name and a little of their origin, which inspired great loyalty from his men. Lucius knew very little about Cervinus, except that he was 30 years old, he was from the Julii capital of Arretium, and that while he was with his men he was a stern yet courageous leader, but while he was with the other more seasoned centurions, he was incredibly timid and awkward.
"Cervinus," Lucius called to the junior centurion, "Your century will be in the very center of the line, do you understand of what I ask of you?"
"Y-Yes General!" Cervinus embarrassingly stuttered, not expecting this huge task to be placed on him, "We are to defend the line where the fighting will be heavy, I-I understand what is asked of me and my men. W-W-We will not falter!"
"Of course you will not! I expect no less of any man in my legion!"
"General, if I may speak freely?" Primus Pilus Cossutius spoke up, "Is it wise to place the most junior century in the center of the line?"
"Cossutius, do you have faith in me?" Lucius asked, his expression showing that he was almost hurt by the question.
"The highest faith in the world, General."
"Do you have pride in the Twenty-Eighth?"
"General…no words in our tongue can describe the pride I feel for the Twenty-Eighth."
"Then take faith in my decision and strategy, and hold faith in your fellow soldiers. But if such concerns of yours are prominent, then for tomorrow you will be placed with the 6th Century, 10th Cohort in the center of the line to overlook this huge task. For I have a plan that will make use of this formation."
"As you desire, General. I will do my absolute best in leading the new men."
"That pleases me," Lucius smirked, "Now, let me return to the rest of the formation for the battle tomorrow…With the legionaries in this two-line formation, I will commit a third line consisting of archers and mercenaries in the center, and cavalry at the right and left flank of the third line. With our elevated position, our archers would have a longer range than their archers. Because we now hold the advantage of spearmen, they will rush to the first line to defend against any cavalry charge. Slaves will move throughout the battlefield to retrieve the wounded and the fallen in battle and bring them back to camp, thus clearing our field and keeping morale high for our men. This is the plan for tomorrow…we defend this hill, we fight at the crest, and we repulse each wave that comes against us. Does any man hold a question?"
"No, General Julius," they all replied in unison.
"Good. Now tend to your men and inform them of tomorrow, there is to be no drinking tonight for we rise at dawn tomorrow and I will not have any man succumb to morning sickness of the wine on the eve of battle. Get some sleep and say your prays to Mars, Jupiter, and Fortuna so that they may bless our fortunes. Centurions, dismissed."
"Yes General!" The centurions all saluted in unison and neatly left the tent in an organize fashion along with everyone else; except Antonius, Proculus, Cassius, and Vitus.
"This battle tomorrow…the men have not faced a Germanic army in a long time," Antonius warned Lucius.
"I am well aware. The Germanians are more ruthless and savage than the Gauls, but are not as intelligent. They are lowly base animals whose strength relies on numbers and ferocity. We will make an impenetrable line tomorrow that the Germanians will be forced to crash into."
"I agree, General. But something still concerns me…it is the road. That road that we march upon this whole campaign that leads us north which also led the Germanic army to us…that same road hooks around the hill to our right and heads towards Alesia. If the Germanians are smart enough, they may send a small but capable force of warriors up this very road to flank us on a rear, and they will come up from behind the hill and destroy us."
"I express such notions as well, Antonius. You indeed think like a general, but I find it difficult of what I can do." Lucius casually ran his fingers threw his thinning hair as he tried to think of what was appropriate to do in this situation. "I want to place a unit of over 200 men on the road to protect our rear flank, but I do not lay trust in the mercenaries enough to give them the duty; and at the same moment, I cannot subtract any cohort or else the line will be weaken further."
"Father, I may have a solution…" Vitus spoke us as he walked towards the two military leaders, "If we need to place men on the road to protect the hill, I think no unit would be better suited for this task than the Auxilia."
"You would have your father place Thracians on the road to protect us?" Antonius chuckled.
"The Thracians themselves are more battle-hardened than the barbarian mercenaries we acquired and the Thracians are not heavily prevalent in the hilltop formation. Most men in the Auxilia have fought for the same length as men in the First Cohort. I put absolute faith in them, that they will repel any flanking force that desires to see the destruction of the Twenty-Eighth come to pass."
Lucius reflected on the subject for a while before finally reaching a decision, "What you say is true, Vitus…very well, I will place the Thracians in the rear on the road to protect our last flank."
"If only we had a Roman to spare to oversee them," Antonius remarked half-heartedly.
"I agree, they may break and rout without proper leadership," Lucius joined in.
"Father…I-I-I…with your permission, I request that I take command over the Auxilia for this battle," Vitus said to his father.
Lucius' jaw nearly dropped, but he retained his composure and told him, "There is no reason for me to grant such a ludicrous demand."
"But Father, you said they need leadership and—"
"That does not mean that I will send you into a trained leader's stead! Vitus, you will not go."
"But you have taught me in the ways of commanding a unit! The Thracians know me and they offer me respect, more than any other Roman in the legion. They will listen to me."
"And I told you that I will not allow it! I would rather you be by my side observing how to lead a legion!"
"Father, if you require a son to witness your strategy, then why not Proculus? He is the eldest and is the natural choice of inheriting the legion. Seeing you order your legion to victory will be better for him than me!"
Proculus smiled at the suggestion, "I found pleasure in what my brother said. Father, I would not mind—"
"Still your tongue, Proculus!" Lucius said without evening looking at his eldest son, "Vitus, it is too dangerous for you to be out on your first battle!"
"Father, you broke words on how the Germanians are too foolish to think of this flanking strategy. If that is so, I shall not be in harm's way. And if trouble should arise, I will send a runner to notify you, Father. Father, do you not have faith in me? I…I had learned my lessons from what had occurred with the Candevaci. Harsh as the act was…it opened my eyes to what war really is…Father, all I ask is that you place your faith in me and give me a chance."
Lucius exhaled loudly as he scratched the back of his neck. He could tell by Vitus' eyes that he was sincere about his efforts of leading the Thracians and that part of the innocence that was held in his eyes at the beginning of the campaign, was gone. He was turning into a hardened leader, and this would be his first chance to prove it.
"Alright, Vitus," Lucius finally said half-reluctantly, "I give you my blessing in leading the Auxilia…but, I will give you some bodyguards from Totates' own men. And that will not be negotiated. Proculus, you will be by my side and watch me command the legion."
"I thank you for the privilege, Father," Proculus said, trying hard to contain his huge grin.
Lucius continued, "If no man here has any further questions, then I suggest everyone withdraw for the night and catch some sleep for the horns will sound at dawn precisely. We will be victorious today, the Gods will see to it. Dismissed."
As soon as the meeting in the General's tent was over, Proculus and Cassius returned to their tents as Vitus quickly strolled off into the Auxilia's camp to tell Oroles of what was to come tomorrow. Cassius began sharpening his sword for tomorrow and polishing his armor before he slept in his bunk. However, Cassius noticed that Proculus was unusually quiet. This boisterous Roman would often regale Cassius with wild stories (which often times Cassius didn't want to listen to, but put on a smile anyway and listened), but Proculus was simply standing by the edge of the tent peering out into the darkness.
"Proculus, does something bother you?" Cassius asked, putting his sword away and seizing the wine. Proculus didn't answer. "Proculus! What grabs your attention?"
"Huh? W-What?" Proculus asked as if he was in a daze.
"I called your name twice, what bothers you?"
"Nothing, I am fine."
"Such obliviousness hardly contends to one being fine," Cassius smirked as he offered the man who he was to protect some wine, "What troubles your mind? You can tell your friend…is it about tomorrow's battle?"
Proculus' face slightly blushed at the subject, "Yes, it is. I do not know why it troubles my mind, but as soon as I left Father's tent, I…I started to think about it; I can feel my heart beat rapidly within my breast and I feel like I have to shit."
"Uh…that information was not needed," Cassius remarked as his faced scrunched up in disgust.
"I am so apprehensive about what will come tomorrow, that it…it…it eats at me."
"It is simple, you are afraid," Cassius calmly told Proculus.
"Ha! Me? Afraid? Such a ridiculous notion! The day I am afraid of battle is the day Venus opens the heavens and bares her cunt to the world!"
"For a man who claims that he does not fear battle, you are making a rather poor attempt at hiding it. It is terrifying to fight for the first time."
"How would you know? You have never been in battle."
"What you say holds true, but I have killed before in defense; and I recall when a Gallic bandit first made an attempt on my life and I killed for the first time. I was so wrapped in fear that I almost could not move. But I prevailed over it and over him. So tell me Proculus, what is it that you are afraid of: killing, dying?"
Proculus bit down on his lip and lowered his head, "No…it is the thought of being useless to my father and failing him tomorrow…I have the notion that tomorrow will be horrible, and it is specially directed against me. He wanted Vitus to be there instead of me, and now I have a chance to prove to my father, but…why do I feel like I will fail?"
Cassius walked up to the sulking Roman and wrapped his arm around his shoulder and told him with compassion in his tone, "Proculus, do not believe that. Are you not here because you want to redeem yourself? Do not implement these doubts within your mind, you are stronger than you think are. I know it, I see it in your eyes. Now you will have to show your strength to everyone, and this I believe you can do. You told me days after I met you, that you feel that you are destined to rule the Julii, this is your first step towards your destiny. Now grip that dream and prove it true."
Proculus slowly nodded in agreement and his face quickly brightened as he reflected more on what he was told. He joyously hugged his bodyguard and walked back over to his armor stand, looking upon his reflection and seeing what he was meant to do. Without any words being said, Proculus looked into Cassius' eyes and nodded his head, thanking him for the words of encouragement.
As Vitus entered the gate to the Auxilia camp, he witnessed a dozen Thracians meagerly sitting in a circle surrounding the camp fire, and among them was Oroles. One of the Thracians spotted the Commander and alerted the rest, in which they all stood up and saluted Commander Vitus with pride.
"Oroles, I would break words with you in private," Vitus called out to the Auxilia Commander.
"As you desire, Commander," Oroles complied, walking towards Vitus and moving to a secluded location in camp. "This is a recent surprise, Commander. I have not seen you within a week, has your father finally allowed you to visit the Thracian camp?"
"Oroles, I would have you know that we are going into battle tomorrow against the Germanians…and the man that leads the Germanic army is their king."
"The Butcher? He will strike aggressively then…but I know your father's legionaries will stand tall in the face of the Germanians," Oroles reassured, "So…in what part would my men play?"
"You and the rest of the Auxilia would be held in the rear, off of the hill to defend the road that connects to the hill and which also leads to the Germanian lines. If the Germanians send some men up that road, they will come from behind the hill and flank us."
"Defend the road? I am surprised that your father didn't send a cohort to do it," the Thracian leader scoffed.
"Well, Father at the moment could not spare a unit without it weakening his line. And it was I who chose you for the task; because I believe that you can accomplish this feat. And I also...volunteered myself to lead the Auxilia."
Oroles' eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets, "You…you volunteered yourself to lead us into battle?"
"Yes, I did…apologies, I did not think that you would mind," Vitus said after witnessing the surprise on Oroles' face.
"No, it is not that…I am surprised that your father would allow it."
"At first he did not, but honest fact-giving and pleas of having combat leadership reached his ears and he relented."
"I see, but, if we do have to fight tomorrow, we will need to slay the Germanians; and after what had happened with the Gallic chieftain…well…how do you feel?"
"What I did to the chieftain…it was wrong, but I cannot do anything about it since it will not restore his life. Me, murdering a man who surrendered cannot be justified; but me slaying a man in battle, is justified for it is the act of war. I believe my soul will rest easy if I take a man's life in battle if it means to save others."
Oroles smiled and patted the young, moral Roman on the back, "It lifts heart to hear your spirits have returned. Rest assured, I will aid you with every step in leading these men when the time comes tomorrow. The men would reluctantly listen to a Roman in command of them, but you, they will actually respect you and die for you for what you have done for them in the last month."
"And you, would you die for me?" Vitus asked with brimming eyes.
Oroles thought to himself for a moment before patting Vitus' back once more with a smile, "For you, no. I would only die for a fellow Thracian. For you, I would do everything in my power to keep you alive."
"Except to die," Vitus chuckled.
"I told you, only if you were a Thracian," Oroles furthered jested.
"Well judging by me having dark red hair, I could be part Thracian," Vitus joked.
The 40 year-old Oroles' smile had faintly formed into a smirk, as he twirled a piece of Vitus' wavy auburn hair between his fingers, as he examined the hues of red that ran through his hair, "Yes Vitus, you just might be. You shall do fine tomorrow."
This is it, the next chapter is the one you all have been waiting for, the battle between the Romans vs. the Germanic barbarians! As of note, this chapter will take me quite a while to finish and be warned; the next chapter will be long. But it is all needed to write out the battle and capture the glory, the violence, the gore, and the death. The next chapter is getting me so excited to write. But as usual, I like to thank everyone who is continually reading this fic and leaving comments for me. I want you all to note that it is keeping me committed to the story.
-Kanuro5