The Gods of War. Conn Iggulden
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Ahenobarbus bellowed at his recruits to stand still. The ranks and files had twisted beyond recognition until they were just a crowd of angry, bewildered men. Seneca had given up shouting and looked as lost as any of them. There was nothing in the manuals to answer this. Panting, Ahenobarbus grimaced, waiting for the attack. Though it was hopeless, many of those around him raised their swords in defiance and he was proud of their courage in the face of defeat.
Ahenobarbus watched as riders approached. Part of him raged at the thought of having to meet such men. He did not want to look them in the eye and be humiliated, but anything that delayed the killing was welcome. Every moment had become precious.
He saw that two of them held shields ready for the Third and knew he was looking at the man who had beaten Gaul and now threatened their own city. The rider wore no helmet and simple armour with a dark red cloak that was crumpled under him, spilling down his mount’s flank. In a crowd, Ahenobarbus might not have noticed him, but after the manoeuvres that had broken his guards without a single spear or sword thrust, the man seemed like some creature from the dark river, come to taunt him. It was easy enough to imagine the Roman blood that would stain his cloak.
Ahenobarbus stood straighter. ‘When he comes close, lads, we rush him on my order. Pass the word. We might not be able to beat these bastards, but if we can kill the general, we haven’t been wasted.’
Seneca stared at him and Ahenobarbus held his eyes long enough to force him to look away. The young man still thought this was some elaborate tactical game, with Rome open behind them. Some of them knew better and Ahenobarbus saw nods of assent spread out from him. Sometimes, a man could forget that his life was not the most important thing in the world, that there really were things worth dying for. In the chaos and fear, Ahenobarbus had been almost resigned to surrender, before the truth came back to him. This was an enemy, Roman or not.
Seneca came close, so as not to be overheard by the men. ‘Sir, we cannot attack now. We must surrender,’ the young man said into his ear.
Ahenobarbus glanced at him and noted the fear. ‘Go back, lad, and let them see you stand. When he comes close enough, we’ll cut him down.’
Seneca opened his mouth, unable to understand the dark ferocity he saw in his commander. It had never been there before and it shocked him into silence as he moved away.
Ahenobarbus chuckled to himself. He looked at the grim legions facing him. They too had halted after their display and, grudgingly, he admitted their superiority. It had been impressive enough to see the way they dismantled his rough formations. The horsemen looked eager to be sent in and the sight of those cold killers sent a shiver through his frame. On the backs of their mounts, the riders seemed enormous and Ahenobarbus knew their reputation as well as anyone else who had read the reports from Gaul. It gave the enemy a glamour he could not deny and it was hard to think of those veterans charging in amongst his inexperienced soldiers.
‘Who has led you here? Let that man step forward!’ a voice carried over the field.
Faces turned to Ahenobarbus and he smiled mirthlessly as he made his way through the ranks to the front. The sun shone and his vision seemed unnaturally clear, as if the edges of things had sharpened.
Ahenobarbus stepped out from his men, alone. He felt the eyes of thousands on him as the three horsemen rode closer. Gently, he drew his sword and took a deep breath. Let them come in and get his answer, he thought to himself. His heart hammered, but he felt calm and strangely detached as Julius Caesar glared down at him.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Julius roared, red-faced in anger. ‘What is your name?’
Ahenobarbus almost took a step back in surprise. ‘Ahenobarbus,’ he replied, stifling the urge to add ‘sir’. He felt the men behind jostle and readied himself to give the order to attack.
‘How dare you bare your sword to me, Ahenobarbus? How dare you! You have abused the trust placed in you. Be thankful none of your men or mine have been killed or I would see you hanged before sunset.’
Ahenobarbus blinked in confusion. ‘I have orders to …’
‘Orders from whom? Pompey? By what right is he still Dictator in my city? I stand before you as a loyal Roman and you mutter about your orders. Do you want to be killed? Who do you think you are to be throwing away so many lives, Ahenobarbus? Are you a lawmaker, a senator? No, you’ve been let down, General. You should not be here.’ Julius removed his gaze from Ahenobarbus in disgust, raising his head to address the guards who watched him. ‘I am returning to my city to stand as consul once more. I break no laws in doing so. I have no quarrel with you and I will not shed the blood of my people unless I am forced to.’
Ignoring Ahenobarbus, Julius walked his mount along the line, his accompanying riders moving in formation with him. For a split second, Ahenobarbus considered shouting for an attack, but then he caught the eye of one of the riders and saw him grin and shake his head as if he had heard the thought. Ahenobarbus remembered that Caesar had called him ‘general’ and the words died in his throat.
Julius’ voice echoed across them. ‘I am within my rights to have you disarmed and sold into slavery for what you have done today. I see bared swords and spears in your ranks even now! Do not force my hand, gentlemen. I am a loyal general of Rome. I am the commander of Gaul and in my person I am the Senate and the law. Do not think to raise your weapons against me.’
Every man in the guards stood appalled as his words washed over them. Ahenobarbus saw them lower swords and spears as Julius wheeled his mount and came back along the line.
‘I have not come back from ten years of war to struggle against my own people here. I tell you that you have been misled. I give you my word that not one of you will be killed if you put away your weapons now.’ He swept his gaze over the men. ‘You have a choice, gentlemen. I will treat you with honour if you make good your mistake. Look around you. I do not need to be merciful. After this, I will consider you traitors to Rome.’
He had reached Ahenobarbus once more and the guard was forced to look up into the sun to meet his eyes. Julius was dark against the light as he waited for a response.
‘Well? Your idiocy has brought them here,’ Julius said softly. ‘Will you see them all killed for nothing?’ Mutely, Ahenobarbus shook his head. ‘Then stand them down and bring the officers to me, Ahenobarbus. We must discuss the terms of the surrender.’
‘You did break a law when you crossed the Rubicon, sir,’ Ahenobarbus said stubbornly.
Julius’ eyes flashed. ‘And Dictatorships are meant to be temporary. Sometimes, a man must act according to his conscience, General,’ he replied.
Ahenobarbus looked away at his men for a moment. ‘I have your word that there will be no punishment?’ he said.
Julius did not hesitate. ‘I will not shed Roman blood, General. Not unless I must. You have my word.’
Being addressed as an equal was such a small thing, but the urge to throw away his life had faded like a memory. Ahenobarbus nodded. ‘Very well, sir. I will stand down.’
‘Give me your sword,’ Julius said.
The two men locked