Ariovistus faced him and in his eyes Julius saw a glittering fear. It didn’t match anything he had seen so far, and Julius wondered at the reason.

Before the king could answer, another flight of arrows whined overhead and Julius wheeled his horse away, crying “Ha!” to force a gallop back to his lines. Brutus, Domitius, and Octavian went with him, pounding over the ground. Behind them, Ariovistus too dug in his heels and his men sent up a great cheer as they saw him return to them.

Julius issued a flurry of orders as he came back to the Tenth. The fastest of the extraordinarii galloped south to Mark Antony with instructions to make all speed in support. Others were sent into the forest to the west, to scout for hidden archers or a surprise force. The Gaulish ponies were taken to the rear and the Tenth were free at last of their distraction. They formed a huge defensive square, with shields overlapping against a cavalry charge. Spears were readied and arrows fitted to the sinew bowstrings. The front rank waited patiently to repel the first charge.

It did not come. To Julius’s surprise, Ariovistus vanished deep within the mass of horsemen and suddenly they began to retreat in perfect order. Some of the Tenth shouted and jeered at them, but the scouts were not back from the woods to the west and Julius was not about to risk an advance without knowing who lurked in those green depths.

Ariovistus took his men out of spear and then arrow range before halting once more. Though there were clearly hotheaded youngsters in the Suebi lines, they showed their discipline in the retreat, with sections of them covering others as they moved back.

“What’s his game?” Brutus muttered at Julius’s side. “While he delays, he must know our legions are coming up behind us.”

“He may mean to draw us in. I don’t like the look of those woods,” Julius replied.

As he spoke, the first of his scouts galloped back to the Roman lines.

“Nothing, sir,” the man panted as he came close and saluted. “No tracks or old fires and no sign of any force in hiding.”

Julius nodded, suddenly remembering the last time he had taken a scout’s report without corroborating it.

Two more of his riders came out of the trees and reported before Julius was satisfied and baffled by the situation. Ariovistus had acted as if he were about to launch a wild charge, but his men stood with stolid indifference, unmoved by the beckoning gestures of the Tenth front line.

Julius tapped his fingers irritably on his saddle. Had they trapped the ground perhaps? It seemed unlikely. Spiked pits would be more of a hindrance to their own army while they outnumbered the single Roman legion.

“Shall we wait for Mark Antony?” Brutus asked.

Julius calculated the time it would take for the legions to reach his position and let out a sharp breath of frustration. It would be hours before they were there to support him.

“Yes. There is something here I do not understand. Their forces are swift and together they outnumber us perhaps two to our one. Ariovistus should attack unless he was bluffing, though I can’t see how he could have been. I will not risk the lives of my Tenth on a trap until we are supported.”

The soldiers who heard this exchanged pleased glances, though Julius didn’t see it as he stared toward the enemy. A commander who looked after his men was a valuable one, as far as they were concerned.

The horsemen of the Suebi stood silently a thousand paces from the Tenth, and a fly buzzed around Julius’s face as he looked over their lines.

“Stand ready, gentlemen. For now, we wait.”

By the time the vast column of legions had joined the Tenth, Ariovistus too had summoned his main force. At the best estimate of the scouts who dared the darts and arrows of the enemy horsemen, there must have been sixty thousand of the Suebi warriors. Each rider brought a running soldier, keeping up a terrific pace as one hand gripped the mane of the horse he ran alongside. Julius was reminded of the Spartans running to battle in the same way and hoped he would not face opponents of a similar caliber.

Brutus had made a wry remark about the battle of Thermopylae, remembered from their tutors years before, but the Spartan king had been able to defend a narrow pass in mountains, whereas Julius could be flanked or even surrounded by such a mobile force. A better model was the battle of Cannae, he thought, where the Romans had been annihilated, though he did not voice the worry aloud.

Two hours after noon, Julius had his sixteen scorpion bows set up and pointing toward the enemy.

They were perfect defensive weapons against a charge, but were so poorly maneuverable that they fell behind an advance after the first shots.

“I have never known a battle like this, Brutus, but they have waited too long now. Have Octavian protect our flanks with the extraordinarii. The rest is up to us.”

He chopped his hand down and all along the lines, cornicens blew their long horns in a single note that matched no order. The sound was intended merely to frighten the enemy, and Julius saw a restless shifting amongst the Suebi as they reacted to it. Moments later, the scorpions fired and bolts as long as a man blurred across the distance between them, faster than could be seen or avoided. Horses in the front lines were spitted, the great bolts continuing on to kill indiscriminately behind them. As the scorpion teams worked feverishly to reload, Julius signaled the advance, and with the Tenth at their head, the legions began their loping run toward the enemy, spears ready in their hands. Though they moved quickly, no man left his position, and if the Suebi charged them, they could form impregnable squares with barely a check to their pace.

With the perfection of discipline, the legions spread out as soon as they were through the pinch between the forest and the Hand. Brutus commanded the Third on the right flank and Mark Antony took the left.

As they came into range for archers, the men readied their shields, but without warning the Suebi lines began to move away once more, faster by far than the Roman advance. Thousands of warriors cantered clear and re-formed half a mile distant.

It was not too far, though Julius feared being drawn out onto the green fields. Ahead of him, he could see the first of the Suebi camps struggling to close its gates. Hundreds of cart drivers were in a panic as they tried to get in. Julius shook his head in amazement that Ariovistus had abandoned them.

Bericus detached to the west to handle the stockade, and another of the Ariminum legions moved smoothly up to the front to take the place of that five thousand. They swept past the stockade as Bericus took the people there without fuss or bloodshed. Julius saw their arms raised in panic as he passed them, but the rest of the Suebi were once again on the move, the solid formations becoming liquid as they broke apart to re-form another half mile distant.

Julius signaled the halt and the legions crashed to a panting stop. Brutus came galloping in from the right wing.

“Let me take the extraordinarii. I can stop them long enough for you to bring up the rest,” he said, glaring at the enemy in the distance.

“No, I won’t risk the only good horsemen I have,” Julius said, casting an eye over the whooping, raggedlooking Aedui, overjoyed to be reunited with their ponies. “We are deep in his lands now. I want a hostile camp set up around the stockade as a base. I am not going to exhaust the men by charging all over Gaul after him. I want the legions behind camp walls and gates before nightfall. Have the ballistae readied when the carts come up behind us. Some hot food as well. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Julius looked over at the black mass of horsemen of the Suebi and shook his head.