"The surviving bandits are all holed up in the Aurunci Mountains. Once we wipe them out, the bandit problem in this entire region will be solved for good," Aquillius said, pointing to a spot on the map.
Brutus, Antony, Aquillius, a few other officers, and I stood together inside the command tent.
"Their numbers are larger than I expected," I remarked, staring at the map.
Just how many of these bastards were waiting to ambush me?
There had to be hundreds of them.
And they weren't just some ragtag bunch of thugs, either.
Some of them were heavily armed—practically on par with Roman legionaries—and possessed a surprising degree of discipline.
"To make matters worse, quite a few of them are former legionaries," Aquillius added.
He was effectively serving as the operation's senior planner.
Aquillius drew up the tactical plans, and Antony executed them by leading the charge at the vanguard.
"Deserters or criminals who fled the legions and turned to banditry to survive."
"They won't be an easy opponent, then."
Up until now, everything had been going smoothly.
Actually, it had been going too smoothly.
Relying on the information I squeezed out of the slave merchants, we had been systematically hunting down the local bandits.
"The map you provided has been immensely helpful, sir Caesar," Aquillius said, clearing his throat.
"But how on earth did you figure out these... 'contour lines'? I've served in the legions for a long time, yet I've never encountered such a concept."
"It just goes to show how thoroughly the allied cities prepared for this."
Yeah, I better brush this question off.
Contour lines were one of the most basic map features used to indicate elevation.
Of course, such a concept didn't exist in Rome at this time.
But I could memorize parts of the maps from the Library in my dream.
Unlike forests or vegetation, which could easily change over time, the elevation of the terrain usually remained constant.
"Regardless, what matters right now is wiping out the bandits hiding in those mountains."
I looked back down at the map.
Cavalry held a speed advantage over infantry on flat ground, but they couldn't charge up a mountain.
If the bandits had dug in and set traps, sending riders up there would result in catastrophic casualties.
"Well, at least we can take comfort in the fact that they're trapped in the Aurunci range."
The bastards were hiding in a wooded sector of the mountains.
Since it was geographically isolated from the rest of the range's forests, we couldn't climb up, but we could tightly secure the perimeter.
"They have nowhere left to run anyway, right?" Brutus chimed in. "Why don't we just maintain the siege and wait until they starve?"
"Don't be an idiot. We'd be sitting here doing nothing for months," Antony scoffed, interrupting Brutus.
"These guys are used to surviving in the mountains. The Aurunci range is full of animals to hunt. We, on the other hand, have to haul our rations all the way from the neighboring cities."
Turning his head toward me, he added, "If we don't end this quickly, the allied cities will start pulling their cavalry back. Once you draw your sword, you need to swing it as fast as possible."
"I agree with Antony," Aquillius nodded.
"We need to strike fast, before they can finish setting up their defenses. We have to seize the opportunity while they're still in disarray. If we drag our feet, we could get bogged down here for months."
Brutus was advocating for a war of attrition, while Antony and Aquillius were pushing for an immediate assault.
But ultimately, the final decision fell to me.
To be honest, what we had done so far could barely be called battle.
We had just been ambushing defenseless bandits and hauling them off in chains.
But this was different.
We had to execute a coordinated military operation against hundreds of entrenched, heavily armed bandits in mountainous terrain.
The lives of hundreds of allied cavalrymen rested on my shoulders.
I had never realized imperium could weigh this heavily on a man.
But times like these were exactly when I needed to show confidence.
If a commander faltered, fear would spread through the ranks.
Did Alexander the Great feel this way before stepping onto the battlefield?
What about Pompey?
Or my father, Caesar?
Shaking off the thoughts, I grabbed my red-plumed helmet and secured it on my head.
"Alright. We hit them as fast as we can, before they have time to fortify their positions."
If we didn't wrap this up within a month, there was a chance the allied cavalry would desert us.
If that happened, it would only embolden the surviving bandits in the region.
"However, there is one thing we need to do first."
"One thing? What do you mean?" Aquillius asked.
I smiled as I looked at the three men.
"Before you chop down a tree, it's always best to shake the branches a little."
The bandits currently gathered on that mountain weren't a single, cohesive faction.
Which meant there was a simple way to sow discord among them.
***
Meanwhile, the bandits hiding in the Aurunci range from the Roman cavalry were constantly at each other's throats.
"We need to go out there and fight while we still can! If we just sit here, we're all going to starve to death first!"
"Go out and fight?! Are you suggesting we clash with that massive cavalry force head-on? That's practically suicide!"
"We have to strike while we still have some strength left!"
These bandits had only joined together for the sole purpose of ambushing Caesar.
Forced into this unforeseen situation, they naturally turned their blades—and the blame—on each other.
It was in the midst of this volatile situation that a messenger sent by Caesar delivered a proclamation.
"Lucius Julius Caesar offers you a generous proposition! Those who surrender immediately will be sentenced to five years of hard labor, after which you shall regain your full freedom!"
"Five years of hard labor? Does that mean he's not going to sell us into slavery?"
A murmur rippled through the bandits.
For them, being sold as slaves was essentially a death sentence—a fate of endless, backbreaking toil in mines or plantations until their bodies gave out.
Compared to that, five years of hard labor was a bitter bargain, but still preferable.
"Then isn't it better to just surrender right now?"
"Yeah, he's a Roman patrician. Surely he wouldn't lie about this, right?"
As the voices advocating for surrender grew louder, a single man stepped forward.
"You gullible fools! You really think a Roman noble is going to keep his word? The second we lay down our arms, he's going to sell every last one of us to the allied cities as slaves."
The man who spoke was named Seleucus.
He was the leader of the smallest faction on the mountain, but he possessed the strongest physique and wielded a massive axe.
His greatest weapon, however, was his violent and ruthless temperament.
"If we just hold our ground on this mountain a little longer, they'll have no choice but to retreat! Do you honestly think a makeshift army from different cities is going to sit out there forever?!"
"But I'd rather do hard labor than die like a dog."
"You spineless coward!"
"What are you doing—!"
Seleucus swung his axe. The bandit boss collapsed before he could even raise a hand to defend himself.
Crimson blood splattered across the fallen leaves.
"You bastard! You killed our boss...!"
"Kill them all!"
As the rest of the bandits drew their swords and weapons, a suffocating tension settled over the camp.
"Fine! If you think you can lead us better, then come and kill me!"
Seleucus roared with laughter and threw his bloody axe to the dirt.
"Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to avenge your boss! Kill me, take command, and try leading the rest of these bastards out of here alive!" he bellowed.
"If any of you have the guts to take charge and fend off those Romans, you're welcome to strike me down! But if a bunch of cowards take the reins now, we'll all be slaughtered like pigs! That's exactly why Caesar sent that snake-tongued offer in the first place!"
"..."
As Seleucus glared at the surrounding men, a long, heavy silence followed.
A man who had been ready to charge with his sword scowled and finally spoke.
"Then what is your grand plan?"
"Cavalry might be strong on the plains, but up here, we hold the high ground. We have the advantage."
Seleucus flashed a wicked grin as he picked his axe back up.
"All we have to do is buy time."
***
"Do you see them?"
"Not yet."
"Stay alert for ambushes," Antony warned, adjusting his grip on his shield.
He and his men advanced with cautious, measured steps, checking their surroundings.
The forest was dead quiet; not even the chirp of a bird could be heard.
With only the sound of their comrades' breathing echoing in their ears, they slowly pushed up the mountain slope.
"Looks like they have no intention of surrendering."
"I heard some shouting earlier, though. They're probably ripping each other apart arguing over whether to yield or not," Antony replied.
The young Caesar wasn't the type to lead from the front lines in the heat of battle.
But he knew exactly how to twist and break his enemies' minds.
Had he joined this expedition because of the young Caesar as well?
Antony let out a quiet chuckle.
Whatever Caesar's true motives were, Antony was thoroughly enjoying himself right now.
This wasn't wasting the day drinking with his companions and loitering in the streets; this was a real fight, a chance to shed blood against a real enemy.
This thrill alone made following the young Caesar worth it.
"I'll head to the rear and report to the imperator. He'll probably want to come up and assess the situation himself."
"Wait a moment. Let's wait until the area is completely secured—"
Just then, a sharp whistling sound tore through the air, and something slammed into the trunk of the tree right next to Antony.
It was a long arrow.
Immediately after, a volley of arrows rained down, embedding themselves into the trees and the dirt.
"Enemy!"
"It's an ambush! Shields! Hold formation!"
"We outnumber them! Don't obsess over formations, just hold your ground and fight!" Antony roared.
His men were a makeshift force patched together from different allied cities.
They had only trained together for a few days; expecting them to maintain a rigid, disciplined formation under arrows was unrealistic.
"Stay calm and hold your positions! Don't let them break through!"
Bandits wielding axes and swords charged down the slope, screaming war cries.
Antony raised his heavy scutum shield, deflected a sweeping blade, and violently thrust his gladius forward.
As the bandit collapsed with a sword buried in his gut, Antony calmly yanked his blade free and drove it straight into the fallen man's throat to finish the job.
All around him, brutal fights erupted.
"Keep fighting! Don't let them get past us!"
Amid the relentless tide of bandits, Antony locked eyes on one man in particular.
A huge brute wielding a massive axe, shouting orders at the others.
"Hey, you!"
At Antony's shout, the man snapped his head around.
"Instead of hiding like a coward, why don't you come out here and face me like a man?!"
"Pretty face, but an awfully loud mouth! Fine, I, Seleucus, will carve you up myself!"
Antony raised his shield to take the axe swing head-on.
The wood splintered and cracked under the immense force.
Before the shield could shatter completely, Antony tossed it aside and lunged forward.
His sword grazed Seleucus's stomach, carving a long gash.
But Seleucus merely stumbled back, straightened up, and burst into laughter.
"You're better than you look, boy."
The duel dragged on for several grueling minutes.
Seleucus swung his colossal axe with terrifying momentum, while Antony ducked, weaved, and launched counterattacks.
Yet, neither man could land a fatal blow.
"It's been fun, patrician."
Seleucus raised his axe into the air and waved it. A harsh horn blast echoed through the trees.
Instantly, the bandits broke off and scrambled back up the mountain.
"Running away already?!" Antony roared. "I can do this all day!"
"Same here, but unfortunately, my men are a bit winded. Let's finish this next time."
Seleucus launched one final, sweeping strike.
As Antony dodged backward, the bandit leader used the opening to sprint up the slope.
"That bastard..."
Antony snatched a discarded pilum from the ground and hurled it with all his might.
But the javelin snagged on the thick canopy of branches and missed its mark entirely.
"Regroup!" Antony shouted, waving his bloody sword. "Fall in on me!"
It was right at that moment.
A sudden, burning agony flared in his lower half.
Before he could even groan in pain, Antony collapsed face-first into the dirt.
"Antony is down!"
"Dammit, he took an arrow!"
"Shields up! Cover him!"
***
"So, let me get this straight. You got shot with an arrow 'after' the battle was already over?"
I stared down at Antony, who was lying face-down on a bedroll.
Brutus stood beside him, desperately biting his lip to suppress his laughter.
"Those cowardly bastards fired an arrow as they ran away. The goddess Diana must despise me. Why else would..." Antony muttered, his face beet red.
I can't tell if he's flushed from embarrassment or pure rage.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Brutus burst into a roaring fit of laughter.
"Ah, I'm so sorry. I've read plenty of historical accounts of men taking arrows to the arse, but this is the first time I've ever seen it in person."
"Still better than you, hiding in the rear and watching the show like a coward, Brutus," Antony growled.
Realizing his slip of the tongue, he hastily looked at me.
"I didn't mean you, imperator."
"I know."
I looked back down at Antony.
An arrow to the ass was still a wound.
I gestured toward the military doctors, who was holding a pair of tongs, ready to yank the shaft out.
"Wait a moment."
"Sir?"
"Before you treat the wounded, there's something I need to discuss with you all."
I surveyed the inside of the medical tent.
Ten wounded, two badly hurt.
Thankfully, there were no fatalities, but the casualties were higher than expected.
"It seems they put up a much stiffer resistance than we anticipated."
"Yeah, they clearly have no intention of surrendering," Antony agreed, nodding against his bedroll. "It seemed like one man was leading the whole pack. Huge bastard, swinging a massive axe."
"One man is leading all the bandits?"
I fell into deep thought.
But wracking my brain alone wasn't going to produce a brilliant strategy.
I already had two excellent commanders at my disposal.
One was Aquillius, a veteran with extensive combat experience, and the other was...
"Once the wounded are treated, we'll hold another strategy meeting."
"Leave me out of it. How am I supposed to attend a meeting looking like this?" Antony sighed heavily.
Brutus looked like he was about to burst into laughter again, but catching my gaze, he hurriedly turned his head away.
"I need your opinion, Antony."
I shook my head.
There was no commander quite like Antony.
Even if his talent had not fully matured yet, the seed of military genius was undeniably there.
"We'll hold the meeting right here."
Antony's eyes bulged out of his head.
"Here?" he muttered in disbelief. "You want me to participate in a war council lying face-down with my bare arse hanging out?"
"It's a sacrifice a true Roman patriot should be more than willing to make."
A strategy meeting with his ass hanging out.
That was a particularly cruel sort of humiliation.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure the doctors wrap the bandages on your...buttocks."
And with that, Brutus burst into another laugh again.