Chapter Four – The Amber Road (Part Two)
[image]
I waited until we had put a few more leagues behind us before I unleashed more ill tidings. And so when we reached the outskirts of Veluzna two days later, I called Velthur, Marce, and Cneve to my tent to hear Arnth's message. I'd since made Marce my lictor. This will allow him to always be at my side while he's with us.
“Brother,” I began reading. “I hope this letter finds you, even if it can't persuade you. I told you not to come, and you did not listen. Instead you've brought over two thousand men with you.” I wish it were still that many. “And what of the oath we both swore to our father? What of Tarchuna? Oaths carry men along their lives, as the wind to the square sail. We have no more liberty to forswear a vow than the sailcloth refuse the gust. But if I cannot stop you, I can at least warn you.
We came upon a hundred men, most of them some horsed, from Viesul. I told them they were marching in the wrong direction and asked who held their charge. A man introduced himself as the purthsvana of the city, now in command of its host. They were what remained of Heralds of Usil, the army of Thefarie Tulumnes, Viesul's zilath, who had designs on taking back Sarsina.
[image]
They had avoided the road and instead couched their movements by following along the valley of the Arnus river. In this way they would go around Brennus and retake Sarsina before Brennus caught wind of it. How Brennus could have known they were coming, no one can say. I've heard his spies number as the stars and that he pays well for intelligence.
They caught the faintest flash of light atop the hill before them. Perhaps the sun glinting off metal. But that couldn't be. The sky was overcast, with only a few rays of sunlight breaking through. Were they camp fires? [I see what you're aiming for here, but this type of question seems odd coming from Arnth, given that he's writing about this after the fact, and from what he heard related from someone else. Maybe change it something like "The men from Viesul thought them perhaps campfires, and Tulumnes ordered..."]Tulumnes ordered the train to halt. Then, the fires began to move...
[image]
Their zilath ordered his men to withdraw. Instead they held fast, looking around at one another. Paralyzed not out of fear, but out of confusion.
[image]
Screams erupted as men went up in flames. The smell was sickening. Some had flesh melting off their limbs, making a sizzling sound as fat dripping off of a spit. Smoke billowed and they stumbled in confusion. As their zilath attempted for to form them back into ranks, cataracts of stones began falling upon them. Slingers in the wood ahead. Tulumnes shouted to raise their shields for cover as he charged after their skirmishers.
[image]
Then, shapes as pale as corpses emerged out of the wood.
[image]
The first rank readied their spears...
[image]
As the second rank of advanced to reinforce them, suddenly arrow fire began flying from behind them.
The second rank had to then turned their shields and ran to give shelter to the peltasts behind them.
[image]
Then Finally they saw who it was firing upon them,. A and their hearts sank when they came into view: their own countrymen.
[image]
With their reinforcements gone, the first rank was soon overwhelmed, and their line began to break...
[image]
The second rank did not see the pale swarm charge into their rear.
[image]
When Tulumnes returned after taking care of the slingers, he saw his army utterly destroyed.
[image]
The purthsvana felt the gaze of someone behind themhim. He turned, and knew who it was.
[image]
The Gallic king surveyed his art, and found it to his liking. Tulumnes gave his seal, the ring of office, to his purthsvana, and said to give it to the first Etrusci general he met. He then unburdened himself of his cuirass, drew his steel, and stained its edges with the last of his honor. [This is a lovely and tragic sentence. It is beautifully constructed, and captures exceedingly well the weight and sadness of that final moment.]
They say Brennus only lost ninety men.
Nearly the entire city garrison had gone out to reinforce Tulumnes. There was no one left in arms behind its walls. Hearing of Brennus's victory, his own adjutant Epidos tried to take Viesul. Brennus chose not to reinforce him, but instead let him die. Likely he thought it useful for Viesul to think they had driven off the Gallic attack, before the true Gallic attack came. [I don't like the repetition here. Maybe consider some slightly different phrase for the second "Gallic attack".]
Reaching Viesul, he stayed out of view. The denizens of Viesul the doomed city waited for the hellish roar of the Gallic carnyx. Instead, they heard the Etrusci tuba. And for a moment, they thought they'd been saved.
[image]
In the night, no one would know this invading army from their own garrison. When they were within the city, they did not hide, they even carried torches.
[image]
And when the invaders had taken all the towers and gates, securing the city for the Gauls, they cheered. And the people of the city sighed in relief and wept, not knowing that they had cried tears of joy for their own conquest.
The Senones weren't the only ones who suffered from the meager harvest, brother. The smaller vassal towns of Etruria Padana were near famine, their grain havingen been taken by Sarsina and Viesul to distribute to their people. The purthsvana said that after taking Sarsina, Brennus went to the nearby villages. He lined up the men of fighting age. Most were farmers and small land owners. He showed them his calloused hands and the dirt beneath his fingernails. A translator spoke for him:
“These fingers like your own, have known the selfsame soil. This belly, like your own, has known the selfsame hunger. Take back your stores, swains of Etruria. With sickle and spear, with pitch fork and axe, take back your stores. Loose the oxen and stretch his leather into shields. Fill your belly and your purse. Take back your stores, and let us break bread together in Viesul.”
And so they did.
And thus brother, your have your report of our diminished holdings. We will retreat into the mountains. The hour is late. Though only mid-autumn, the winter snows are already starting here. Soon, the snows will make the mountain passes impassable. It will be our fortress walls as we gather their our strength and prepare. I've sent riders out in all directions to bring all those dispossessed by the Gauls, and all who may be bold enough to pen the boar. We hope for an offensive soon, but more I cannot say. Avle, if you can reach us, our combined army can attack. If not, we will quarter until spring.
Do not engage the Senones without me.
Rasnele.”
I asked Velthur when the soonest was that we could break camp. We'd make for the Amber Road as quickly as possible. The window to reach Arnth in time was rapidly closing. Velthur stood in silence. I asked if Velthur Velchae was truly withholding his opinion. Someone should note this in the annals.
[You were missing a line break here.]
Velthur wrote in his tablet that perhaps they should discuss this in the morning. I said that if I had wanted to discuss it, I would have. He paused. Finally he asked if he could speak to me privately. I said all private matters can be discussed privately, but all matters of war will be discussed openly. He nodded, and then wrote that I was making a mistake. We didn't even know where Arnth was. I said that Cneve could find him. Cneve looked hesitant, but replied that if given time, he could find anyone. However, as soon as we moved our army to meet Arnth's we would arouse the attention of the enemy. Thus, we would lead them right to him. I asked Velthur what his alternative was.
He wrote in his wax tablet, ”If you can go neither backward nor forward, then you you wait. Our only advantage over Brennus is that his rashness exceeds our own. At least for now.”
Can't go forward? I reminded Velthur that only two days ago he urged us on. Despite the Romans taking Cisra and the decrease of our commission, he urged us on. Velthur then wrote, and wrote. I sighed as I knew that I was in for another rant.
“I taught Arnth all he knows.” he wrote. “Before he even lost his baby teeth, I taught him to never allow his adversary to be the keeper of his calendar. From then on he will always dictate the course of events, while you scurry to and fro trying to react to his latest move. Only act at a time of your choosing. Brennus needs to face unprepared armies who are trying to beat the snow. He wants to draw us out and for us to give battle in haste.”
Velthur suggested that we should winter in Aritim. He wanted time to train the men properly anyway. I slammed the letter down on the table, surprising even myself. There will be no wintering, I said. I'm not one for displays of anger. But the decision had been made.
Velthur glared at me, nose to nose. Everyone in the tent watched the two of us. Finally, he wrote in his tablet, handed it to Marce, and stormed out. Marce read it aloud: “Always the gambler, I see. Get you back to the trigarium, Spurinna. Get you back to frittering away what remains of your father's fortune, instead of wagering other men's lives. Aita is a less forgiving collector of debts. As am I.”
I rubbed me eyes, which grew tired. Marce of course tried to mend the situation. He said he was with me, and in time Velthur would be too. “He doesn't mean it. It's just his manner.” Marce said. No,But it was more than that. Velthur trusted Arnth to stay alive more than he trusted me to reach him in time. I was, and am, merely a hister playing the part of a general. Perhaps I did belong back at the track, and should leave soldiery to the soldiers.
Marce said that this wasn't about Velthur and I, but Velthur and Arnth. Velthur was seeking a target for the darts of his own guilt. Velthur was harsh in Arnth's training, Marce said, perhaps more so than he had to be. During the war between the houses, he told Arnth that treacherous Metru and the Spurinnae had not only overthrown their crown but would not be satisfied until they had destroyed their family, root and branch. It was up to Arnth to defend the family to the death. Arnth's father could not be a father to him, lest he soften him. He had no one. Velthur's shame is that the first man to ever show Arnth any familial love or kindness, was treacherous Metru. Velthur knows that he should have been Arnth's second father. And if Arnth dies, now he may never get the chance to make it right.
Velthur might have his conscience soothed knowing that I was no better to Arnth. I wasn't a brother to him when he entered into our house. Not until our father died at Veii did it bring us close enough to call ourselves true brothers.
But since I can't remain serious for very long, I joked and changed the subject. I told Marce that he would have to take the tebenna sooner than expected. I was givingen him command of one third of our host whose former commander headed back to Cisra. Poets sometimes make the best commanders, I said. After all, Aeschylus had distinguished himself in command during the Persian wars,. M and men move other men with words more than iron. He was taken aback, as he should be. We'll recruit at Veluzna. We'll have to make up for the desertions, and we're especially lacking in cavalry. We can't face the Gauls without cavalry. And they would be mercenaries. While Veluzna is a vassal city of Tarchuna and would levy troops if I commanded it, we can't wait for weeks while they muster as we did in Cisra. From there, we will take the Amber Road. Marce nodded and began to exit the tent, but I stopped him.
The “Heralds of Usil”, the name of the army that was ambushed...it was appropriate. It was common for many in norther Etruria to adorn the fronts of their chariots with an image of Usil. I asked Marce if he knew why the god that drove the sun chariot was such a popular divinity in those parts. He shook his head. I asked him if he knew why the Amber Road was associated with Usil. This, he did not know either. After Phaeton, the son of Usil, stole the chariot of the sun from his father, he crashed into the river Po not far from here. It is there that Phaeton's sisters, the Heliades, eternally stand vigil at that and weep tears of amber, frozen sunlight. This is the road we will take, the road of hubris and tears. I asked him if, hearing that, he wanted to decline the offer of command. He said no. In fact, I had inspired him to write a verse or two about it.
Don't let that worry you, Ramtha. I'm safer here than I was in Tarchuna. Back there I only had my satelles. Now I'm surrounded by a thousand armed men, all of whom are more schooled in war than I. Still, I hope you'll reproach yourself a little now for all the times you've teased me with the nick name “Phaeton”. I suppose the name is more apt than ever now...
...after all, I too have just stolen my father's chariot.
|