Act 1, Chapter 3 of The Ashes of Rome
“Why in the gods’ names are you here?” Brennus asked, thick brows drawing down as he frowned.
The three Romans, the source of his consternation, stood before us. Their white togas set them apart from either the colorfully clad Clusians or our own forces.
“I am Quintus Fabius Ambustus. These others are my brothers, Numerius and Caeso.” Quintus was dark-haired and bearded, and his eyes danced across our troops as he calculated our strength. His brothers were from the same mold, save Caeso’s paler hair and lighter eyes. “Our father, Pontifex Maximus Marcus Fabius Ambustus, sent us here with all haste to act as impartial negotiators on behalf of Clusium. This city is under Rome’s protection, and any violence on your part will result in war between our peoples. Will you agree to peace talks?”
Brennus thought for a moment. “We have no quarrel with Rome, but we also act on the bequest of another. We cannot set aside our arms if he does not consent.”
“Well enough. Clusium has asked that Rome be an ambassador between them and you. Who is this mystery patron who calls for violence?”
There was a shuffling of feet, and Aruns appeared. “I am Aruns of Clusium. It is by my right to vengeance that these warriors come here.”
“And will you lay down your grudge that we might avoid war?”
“I will not.”
“No?”
“There will be no peace until I have recompense from Lucomo.”
“And he has wronged you?”
Aruns nodded eagerly. “Yes, he wronged me, my lady wife, and, by association, all of Clusium. He tarnishes our honor.”
Quintus frowned. “Know then that Lucomo sent to Rome for aid against you and your barbarian horde.” He reached into his toga and pulled out a scroll. “His missive included the seals of the entire aristocracy of Clusium.” He bent his head closer to Aruns and said quietly, “I do not think they wish their king ill on your behalf.”
“Lies!”
Quintus lost interest in Aruns after that. Instead, he turned back to Brennus. “Will you return to where you came from, should Aruns’ claim for recompense be forfeit?”
I tensed. Marching all the way back empty-handed would disgrace us. The Senones never failed to complete a contract or extract equal value.
“No,” Brennus said simply.
Quintus’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You would press on? By what rights?”
“We were promised land, and we will not be satisfied with less. That is the cost of peace.”
“What gives you the right to demand anything from Clusium, rightful owner of all that you see hereabouts?”
Brennus’s grin was tight and entirely without humor. “By the right of arms, Roman. We may have no quarrel with you, but our contract with Aruns will be honored, or we will storm the city and take what is owed to us.”
That brought a smile to my face. Brennus was letting the Romans know in no uncertain terms that the only way to avoid bloodshed was to stick to the terms of the agreement. Quintus knew as well as we did that the city had little hope of holding out against a prolonged siege and that, should it come to a pitched battle, the defenders were sorely outmatched.
“Prideful fools! I will take your answer to the Clusians, and we shall continue these talks later,” Quintus snarled, anger and something else in his eyes. Anticipation? He turned and stormed off back toward the city, his brothers in tow. I could see them already deep in heated conversation.
“We appreciate you watching out for our honor and our profit, Brennus,” I said once the Romans were out of earshot. “But do you think that was wise?”
Brennus shrugged. “I’ll not bow the knee to some wet-behind-the-ears boy from a city that has no stake in the outcome here. If nothing else, perhaps it will put some teeth into our negotiations. The Clusians are more like to treat with us generously if they fear we won’t leave without spilling their blood.”
“I like that, it’s smart,” rumbled Urus as he came to stand next to me. “Those Clusians are tricky, though, from what I’ve heard. It would surprise me not a whit if they agreed to a price and then reneged, claiming duress.”
Brennus threw back his head and laughed. “Well, if they want duress, we can certainly show them the meaning of the word!”
“My kinsmen are honorable,” Aruns protested. I had forgotten the man was standing there. “If they agree to terms, they are binding.”
“Is that how it was with Lucomo and your wife?” Brennus asked, an edge to his voice.
“That’s different!” Aruns protested. “Lucomo is a devious, manipulative man who cannot be trusted.”
“It’s been my experience that what a king does, his people mimic,” I said, stabbing a finger into his chest. He retreated, expression hurt and angry.
“Let’s not squander this opportunity while they argue about what to do regarding Aruns’s claims,” Brennus said. “Talos, Urus, order our forces to surround the city, but to stay out of range. They’re like to have at least a few keen eyes among them, and it would be best to avoid being skewered by an arrow.
“Maybe we should put Aruns up front within arrow range,” Urus joked darkly as we left to carry out our orders.
✸✸✸
Another day of interminable waiting dawned on the heels of several similar days. The Clusians were in no rush to decide about Aruns, although we could clearly hear shouting within the city from time to time. Doubtless, they were arguing about how to deal with our siege. With the city fully invested, the Clusians were living on borrowed time. No supplies could enter, while we were free to take whatever we needed from the surrounding farms. However, while we were not locked behind walls and gates, the inaction chafed at us.
Fights were becoming more common, and at least two warriors had died. Brennus had forbidden fighting as a result, but you can only expect so much obedience at times like this. I was currently surveilling the assembled Gauls for signs of imminent violence to try to stave off any further deaths. The distant sound of shouting told me that tempers had already snapped this morning, and I was making all haste to calm the situation.
“Talos!” a voice hailed me.
Shielding my eyes from the early morning sun, I made out Garamaros’s outline. “Have you come to convince the Clusians to throw the gates wide with your wit and charm?”
The other man chuckled. “Would that I could. This sitting around doing nothing wears on a man.”
I nodded. “Any idea what all the shouting is about near the front lines?”
Garamaros’s smile faded. “I do, actually. Urus is at loggerheads with Belinus over something. They’re about to come to blows right in the middle of the road.”
I groaned. Belinus was Brennus’s brother and one of the higher-ranking leaders among the host. If Urus was fighting with Belinus, it boded no good for any of us.
“I’ll go see what I can do for our aurochs-headed companion. Boudia was sparring with Catta this morning. You will travel right past the training ground, so if you would pass the message along, I would count it a kindness.”
Garamaros nodded and waved as he marched off. I glanced at the sun, perhaps an hour past dawn. “It’s too early for this,” I grumbled, but made haste toward the road.
✸✸✸
I found Urus easily enough. He stood face-to-face with Belinus, and while Urus was the larger of the pair, it was not by much. The big aurochs was shouting something, hands clenched tight, although I could not make out what it was. Belinus glared back at him, hand unconsciously reaching for the dagger at his belt. This was not going to end well if we did not intervene soon.
“Has Urus taken leave of his senses?” a woman asked at my side.
I glanced at her. “Boudia, I’m grateful for your timely arrival. Perhaps you can reason with him?”
She arched a brow. “Me? What magic do you think I wield over the lumbering fool?”
I grinned at that. “The same that Catta wields over me.”
“Not so, Talos,” she said. I caught an edge of anger in her voice. “The fool’s gambling was too much for me. Not even the Oak Mothers could convince me to take that man back.”
Well, that put things in a different light and might explain why Urus was in a foul enough mood to argue with someone like Belinus.
“Could you not pretend? Just long enough to break this up before it comes to blows or, worse, bloodshed? You know how Brennus feels about his brother, and I’d hate to see his reaction if Urus were to damage him.”
Boudia laughed at that, and the resemblance to Catta was striking, despite Boudia being two years Catta’s senior. “You know I detest lying, but that might be a worthy enough cause if it keeps Urus’s hide in one piece. Brennus would flay him alive if anything happened to Belinus. But it’s just as likely that Belinus would trounce Urus.”
A roar of rage brought our conversation to a close. I looked back and saw Urus lunge for Belinus’s throat. The other man backpedaled just in time, but the glint of early morning sunlight on steel told me things were about to get much, much worse.
Boudia and I shoved our way through the gathering crowd as fast as we could. In mere moments, we had reached the two would-be combatants. Urus was picking himself up off the ground, but I saw no obvious wounds, and Belinus’s blade was as yet unstained.
“Urus, stop!” I shouted.
The great lout rose to one knee and shook his head to dispel the effects of Belinus’s blow. Then, faster than a man that large should be able to move, he got both feet beneath him and launched himself at his opponent. Urus collided with Belinus at speed, and the impact shook the earth we stood on. One great fist came back, and Urus brought it thundering into Belinus’s stomach. I heard the air rush from his lungs. Already, Urus was drawing back for another blow. Belinus, far from being out of contention, somehow managed to bring his knee up into Urus’s groin. The great fist paused, trembled, then fell as Urus clutched his bruised manhood.
“Urus!” I shouted again, but it was useless.
I decided to try a different approach. “Belinus! Stop this madness now!”
“Happily, should you convince this fool to leave off,” came his breathless reply.
And then Boudia was there, interposing her body between the two men.
Urus, on the verge of renewing his attack, fell back.
“You dolt! Is this how you win me back?” Boudia demanded.
Urus looked from Belinus to Boudia, then sat on the ground with his head in his hands. “Maybe. Did it work?” He ventured a look at her out of the corner of his eye without raising his head.
In answer, she slapped him hard in the side of the head before kneeling beside him. She took his head in her hands and looked him right in the eyes. “Fool of a man, do you really think a show of how rockheaded you are would charm me?”
Urus shrugged his massive shoulders.
She planted a kiss on his lips. “Don’t do anything so idiotic again!”
“What in the Thunderer’s name was that about?” I demanded.
Belinus was rubbing his stomach where Urus had struck him. “No idea, but I’m of a mind to ask Brennus to put him on latrine duty.”
“He would probably enjoy the solitude,” I said. “Better to put him to work building that bridge over the river.” I leaned toward him and whispered conspiratorially, “He cannot swim.”
Belinus laughed at that, and most of the tension dissolved. The crowd that had gathered began to disperse, but not without ugly mutterings. It would take very little for the lingering tension to flare up.
Just then, the gates of Clusium creaked open and, with a many-throated trumpet blast, the enemy poured out armed and ready for battle.
“Urus, get up!” I shouted. Glancing around, I spotted a familiar mouse-skin cloak. “Lukotorix, sound the alert, then make haste for Brennus. He must know!
“Bring my horse!” Belinus roared. A moment later, a boy appeared with Belinus’s mount. He looked at me, fire in his eyes. “At last! Do not let them breach our lines!” And with that, he was off, charging directly at the Clusian host, the warriors immediately around us following on his heels.
Then Urus and Boudia were at my side, their eager grins echoing the gladness in my own heart. Finally, a chance to do something! If we were lucky, we could deal the Clusians such a blow that we could end the siege. Weapons drawn, we charged with the rest, our battle cries leading the way.
We met the Clusians in a clash of steel. War cries mingled with shrieks of pain from men and horses alike. I would like to say that I acquitted myself well, but as is the way of battle, a fog descended on my mind and eyes. A man appeared before me, his round shield and crested helm marking him an enemy. I slashed with my sword before he could skewer me with his spear, but the tide of battle tore us apart, and I did not know whether he lived or died. Another foe appeared, striking at me with his sword. I dodged but felt the wind from his blade on my neck, before I lunged at him and felt my own sword strike home. He screamed and fell, only to be replaced by another, and another, and another. My arm burned from wielding my sword, my lungs burned with the ferocity of the fight, and my eyes burned with mingled sweat and blood. Then a great shout from behind told me that Brennus had arrived with more warriors, and the Clusians hesitated, some falling back.
I found myself with no opponent, although the clash of arms continued all around me. Motion from the Clusian gate caught my attention. Reinforcements streamed out, but there was something strange about these warriors. While their weapons, armor, and shields resembled those of the Clusians, the warriors themselves were paler, with prominent noses, and few wore beards. There was a shout, and a Clusian warrior rushed me, so I was forced to defend myself. The warrior thrust with his spear, and my blade was too slow to fully deflect it. I felt the tip pierce my left upper arm, and blood flowed. I hacked through his spear haft and then took his head for good measure. By that point, the new soldiers were among us.
I found that the flow of battle had swept me closer to Belinus. He remained ahorse, sword bloodied, and the morning sun glinting off his chainmail. One of the newcome warriors rushed toward Belinus, a javelin in hand. My heart caught in my throat— I recognized his dark hair and beard. It was Quintus, one of the Roman ambassadors. Beyond him, I thought I saw his two brothers, both armed and fighting on behalf of the Clusians.
I opened my mouth to shout a warning as Quintus drew back his arm, but an attacker slammed his shield into my back, and my breath burst out in a gust of useless wind. Quintus heaved the javelin, the cords standing taut in his arm and neck. Naked hatred blazed on his face as his weapon sped through the air like a lightning bolt.
“To me, warriors of Senonos!” Belinus shouted. “To me—” And then the javelin took him in the throat in a fountain of blood. I remember the look of surprise on his face and will take it to the grave with me. He slowly toppled to the ground. Quintus, the look of gleeful hatred still smeared across his gods-cursed lips, rushed forward to stab Belinus with his sword for good measure, but his armor turned the Roman’s blade away. Another look came over his face then, one I knew well, and he began trying to strip the chainmail from Belinus’s dead body.
“We are betrayed!” I finally managed to shout and hurled myself toward Quintus. He grinned as he saw me coming, then two Clusians blocked my way. I hacked through their guards, making short work of them, but even that delay was too much. Quintus had his prize and was retreating toward the city.
“Belinus!” a voice cried out fit to pierce the heavens. It was Brennus, running to the body of his beloved brother. “What treachery is this?” he demanded, but Quintus would not halt to give answer or face judgment. In a moment, he had disappeared through the city’s gate.
“Senones!” Brennus shouted, eyes ablaze with grief and rage. “Heed my words! Put away your swords and spears! Clusium is no longer our enemy.”
Across the battlefield, the sounds of fighting dwindled as warriors heard the order. The Clusians took advantage of the moment to gather their wounded and begin dragging them back into the city. Brennus mounted his brother’s horse and rode at breakneck speed for the gate, pulling up in a cloud of dust and gravel just before the portal. He stood tall in the saddle, and the gods amplified his voice so that it bounced back from the city’s walls and all present could hear what he said.
“Clusium, listen well! We will grant you your peace and leave with nothing for our troubles on the condition that you turn over the three Roman ambassadors cowering behind your walls. They have transgressed the laws of the gods and humankind! They have betrayed the sacred peace! I give you until tomorrow to decide what you will do.”
He turned and rode back to our lines at a walk, contemptuously showing his back to the enemy. No Clusian dared strike him down with javelin or arrow, and once he was safely returned to us, we withdrew to wait for word.
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