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'Don't look up to much, do they?' sneered Sabinus.
His comment was greeted with contemptuous grunts of agreement.
Romulus' spirits lifted. It was hard to see how the lightly armed skirmishers could have any meaningful impact on their lines. Although the Gaulish cavalry would come off worst, perhaps they, the infantry, could turn the tide in Caesar's favour?
They were now within a hundred paces of the enemy. Close enough to pick out individual men's faces. To see their lips twisted back in fury. To hear their ululating war cries.
Romulus licked his lips. It was nearly time.
An instant later, the bucinae sounded the charge.
'Up and at them, men,' roared Atilius. 'Wait for my call to release your pila.'
The Twenty-Eighth surged forward.
Romulus' caligae pounded off the short grass. He glanced left and right, taking in the bunched jaws, the nervous faces and the downright terrified expressions of a few soldiers. As always, his own stomach was knotted with nerves. The sooner they closed with the enemy, the better. He sca
Here and there, frustrated groups of Caesar's soldiers had ignored their officers and broken ranks to charge the groups of the enemy that ventured close to their positions. Romulus had developed a healthy respect for the Numidians, whose tactics changed when attacked in this ma
Romulus was quite worried. Atilius and his officers had kept most of the Twenty-Eighth in position, but the Numidians' assaults were whittling away at the men's confidence. Without the officers' constant reassuring shouts, and the waving of the eagle, he thought they might have broken and run by now. Romulus could see by the wavering of the other cohorts' positions that the situation was the same everywhere.
The Gaulish cavalry was faring no better. Driven backwards by the Numidians, they were struggling to remain anywhere near Caesar's flanks. Already the cohorts on the edges were having to defend themselves against harrying attacks from the javelin-throwing horsemen. Before long, the enemy riders would have enveloped the entire patrol, blocking off its only avenue of escape. Romulus had vivid memories from Carrhae of what befell infantry when that happened. He didn't mention a word of this to Sabinus or the men around him, but there was no need. They'd heard the story of Curio, Caesar's former tribune in Africa, who had come unstuck in this ma
Panic was creeping into the faces of many.
Romulus could feel the first flutters of it in his belly too.
Chapter XVI: Labienus and Petreius
Caesar had seen what was going on. Soon orders were carried by messengers along his entire front that no one, on pain of death, was to move more than four paces from the main line occupied by his cohort. Romulus took great heart from this. Caesar was even roving between units, talking to the legionaries and bolstering their courage. In the cohort next to Romulus, he had seen a wavering signifer turn around and try to flee. Grabbing the man, Caesar had turned him bodily to face back towards the Numidians, telling him, 'Look, the enemy's that way!' It had raised a shame-faced laugh from the surrounding soldiers, and bolstered the other units' courage.
Caesar's men held their lines still, but his fighting words could not stop the relentless harrying by the enemy skirmishers and horsemen. By the time an hour had passed, scores of soldiers had been injured in each cohort, and their cries did little to decrease the general unease in the ranks. Something drastic needed to be done if the situation wasn't going to spiral out of control. Romulus could feel his own determination being drained. Cursing the wraithlike Numidians, he shoved his black thoughts away.
To add to their distress, the Pompeian leader was revealed to be Labienus, not Metellus Scipio. Formerly one of Caesar's most trusted legates during the prolonged campaign in Gaul, Labienus had changed sides after Caesar's crossing of the Rubicon. Infuriated, Caesar had sent his baggage after him. Like many of the Pompeian leaders, Labienus had taken part in the battle of Pharsalus, but after Caesar's victory, he had travelled to Africa rather than surrender. An accomplished general in his own right, he now took the opportunity to urge on his own men and to harangue Caesar's battered cohorts.
Riding bareheaded into the no man's land between the two armies, Labienus taunted the legionaries with astute barbs that showed his awareness of their inexperience. 'Greetings, raw soldiers! What are you doing?' he cried. 'You're terrifying me!'
No one replied.
Urging his mount nearer Caesar's lines, Labienus continued in the same vein. 'Has Caesar taken you all in with his honeyed words? Look at you now!' With a sneer, he pointed at their ragged appearance and the number of wounded. 'What a place your general has guided you all to. I pity the lot of you.'
The exhausted legionaries glanced at each other. Few received any reassurance. Here was one of Caesar's former leaders, whose men were wi
Romulus felt differently. Come closer, you bastard, he thought, his fingers itching on the shaft of his javelin. The Pompeian leader was still out of range, though.
Emboldened by the lack of response from Caesar's men, Labienus moved his horse forward a dozen steps. Then a dozen more. 'You're pathetic,' he shouted. 'Call yourselves Romans? The peasants from the little farms around here make better recruits than you!'
Before Romulus could react, Atilius pushed his way forward. 'I'm no raw recruit, Labienus,' he shouted. 'But a veteran of the Tenth Legion.'
Taken aback for a moment, Labienus quickly recovered his poise. 'Really? Where's your standard then?' he demanded. 'I can see none for the Tenth.'
Atilius pulled off his centurion's crested helmet and tossed it to the ground. Staring proudly at Labienus so that he could be recognised, he stuck out a hand behind him. 'A pilum,' he ordered. 'Now.'
Romulus broke ranks to give Atilius his remaining one.
'I'll show you what kind of soldier I am, you whoreson,' the senior centurion roared. 'One of Caesar's best.' Lunging forward, he threw the javelin with all his might at Labienus.
Romulus held his breath.
His pilum hummed through the air to strike the legate's mount squarely in the chest. Severely wounded, the horse collapsed kicking to the ground. Labienus was thrown free, but landed badly. There was a dramatic silence as he lay sprawled on the ground. Eventually, he picked himself up with a groan.