Eagles at War (23 page)

‘What happened?’

‘I had only twenty men and an optio with me, sir. There were upwards of sixty warriors within the compound.’

‘But the legionaries outside must have been attacking the palisade at the same time, splitting the defences?’

‘They didn’t do so immediately, sir,’ said Tullus.

‘Was there some kind of miscommunication?’ demanded Varus.

‘I suppose so, sir.’

‘You had no trumpeter with you?’

‘No, sir.’

That was an oversight on Tubero’s part, thought Varus. ‘Bolanus, you were outside the compound. What was going on?’

‘I think the tribune didn’t quite realise the importance of diverting the defenders’ attention from Tullus and his force, sir. It was fortunate that Arminius was on hand to advise Tubero. He sent our men to the attack after that. Tullus opened the gate, and the remaining warriors were soon overwhelmed.’

Tubero must have been distracted, Varus decided, or, as Bolanus had said, he had misjudged the ‘perfect’ moment to order the attack. It was fortunate indeed that he’d sent Arminius on the patrol. ‘I am glad that you survived, Tullus. Your death would have been a sore loss to your legion, and to the empire.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Tullus, raising his glass.

Varus was about to move the conversation on to the preparations for the summer campaign when Tullus let out a meaningful cough. ‘What is it?’ asked Varus.

‘I was unhappy with how few prisoners were taken, sir. The warriors inside the stockade were our best hope, but Arminius’ men reaped them as if they were ripe stalks of wheat.’

It was curious that Tubero had also mentioned this, thought Varus. ‘They lost the run of themselves,’ he said, deciding again that the simplest answer was the correct one.

Another cough. ‘I wondered if Arminius had ordered his men to act as they did, sir.’

‘Why would he do such a thing?’ demanded Varus, frowning.

‘I don’t know, sir,’ Tullus admitted, looking awkward. ‘But I thought that perhaps they went about killing the Usipetes with more zeal than was necessary.’

‘“Perhaps?” So you’re not sure? You have no evidence to back up your theory?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Unless you have some kind of proof for me, centurion,’ said Varus in a reproving tone, ‘I suggest you stitch your lip.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Now, back to the preparations for the march east,’ declared Varus. The centurions warmed to the topic, which pleased him. He wasn’t the only one looking forward to getting out of the damn camp. When they had drunk a second glass of wine, he thanked both again and dismissed them.

‘They were being opaque about what happened with Tubero, Aristides, or I’m no judge,’ Varus said when the sound of their sandals had died away.

‘I agree, master.’

So I wasn’t imagining it, thought Varus. ‘They were covering for him.’

‘I wouldn’t know, master,’ said Aristides, ever the diplomat.

It was best to be pragmatic, Varus decided again. The desired result – the destruction of the raiding party, and the taking of prisoners – had been achieved. He had enough on his plate without having to worry about Arminius, or to dig around to discover the mission’s every detail. It seemed definite that Arminius’ men had lost their self-control, and that Tubero had been overeager in his approach to the attack on the compound, forgetting the basics of planned assaults. These were both things that were easy to remedy. He could speak to Arminius the next time they met. ‘Fetch me the manual on siege tactics,’ he ordered. ‘Write a note to Tubero, recommending that he read it. I’ll sign it. Have both sent to his quarters.’

‘Yes, master.’

That was one problem dealt with, thought Varus. His satisfaction lasted as long as it took Aristides to come into his line of vision with an armful of documents. Varus gave them a baleful glare. For every one issue that he resolved, there were always six more to sort out.

Jupiter, let the day that we march out of here come soon, he prayed.

Knock.

Varus, who was still at his desk, eyed the door to his office with something akin to resignation. ‘Enter.’

In came the sentry. ‘Arminius is here to see you, sir.’

‘For once, a visitor I am happy to receive. Send him in.’

‘Governor,’ said Arminius, saluting.

‘It’s good to see you, Arminius.’ Varus came around his desk to shake the Cheruscan’s hand. ‘You’ll have some wine.’

‘I never say no to wine,’ replied Arminius with a broad smile.

‘A man after my own heart. Aristides, do the necessary, will you?’ Varus offered his guest a chair. ‘I must thank you for what you did on the patrol.’

Arminius looked a little surprised. ‘I did my duty, that’s all.’

‘I meant the advice you gave Tubero, during the attack on the palisade.’

‘Ah, that. Anyone would have done the same.’

‘Maybe so, but it saved Tullus’ life, and the lives of a good number of legionaries.’ Varus raised the glass that Aristides had just handed him. ‘My thanks.’

With a gracious nod, Arminius accepted the toast. ‘I am grateful to you for sending me on the mission.’

‘It’s a pity that we have so few captives.’

Arminius’ face grew concerned. ‘If you’re referring to my men’s actions inside the stockade—’

‘I am,’ said Varus in a cold voice. ‘Tullus tells me that more prisoners could have been taken.’

‘True enough. My warriors did run amok,’ Arminius admitted with an apologetic look. ‘One of my best men had been cut down in the village, you see. The number of slain legionaries outside the gate didn’t help either. Nonetheless, I can only apologise, governor. They failed you.
I
failed you,’ he said, wringing his hands now.

It had been a genuine mistake, Varus decided again. Arminius wasn’t lying, that was clear. ‘See that it doesn’t happen again.’

‘You have my word on that.’

Varus smiled to show that the matter was closed. ‘Now, if you’ve come to tempt me out of here with a day’s hunting, I will have to turn you down. My conscience, or should I say Aristides, would not permit it.’

Arminius eyed Aristides. ‘It’s you who keeps the governor on the straight and narrow, eh?’

‘He doesn’t need me to do that, sir,’ demurred Aristides. ‘I’m only a poor slave.’

‘You’re indispensable, that’s what you are,’ said Varus.

Muttering his thanks, Aristides bowed and retreated to his desk.

‘You’re busy then,’ said Arminius.

Varus indicated the piles of documents before him. ‘I have twice as much to do as normal. It’s because we’ll be leaving soon, of course, which means it can’t be ignored.’

‘I don’t know how you do it, governor,’ said Arminius. ‘I loathe official-dom and the mountain of paperwork that goes with it. Thank Donar that I too have a scribe. If it weren’t for him, the quartermaster would be bending your ear about me every other day. Why does everything have to be filled out in triplicate?’

‘That’s the army for you,’ said Varus, chuckling. ‘All the empire’s property and resources have to be accounted for. It’s how it has been since Augustus became emperor.’

‘Which means we have to accept it,’ said Arminius, raising another toast. ‘To Augustus.’

Varus echoed Arminius’ words, and then set down his glass. ‘Something makes me doubt that you came here to discuss the intricacies of military paperwork.’

‘Ha! You know me well, governor. I was wondering if you had given any thought to punishing the Usipetes for the raiding party?’ He laughed. ‘I’ll rephrase that, because you will have done. Have you decided what the tribe’s punishment will be?’

‘After a fashion. The prisoners didn’t yield much information, but every last one maintained that they had left their villages without their chieftains’ knowledge.’

‘And you believe them?’

‘They were treated in a most unpleasant fashion. I do.’

‘I see.’

‘With this in mind, I concluded that the most punitive type of response – burning settlements and killing the inhabitants, you know the drill – would be counterproductive. We are trying to pacify Germania, not set it alight. The raid can’t go unanswered, however. The Usipetes’ leaders may not have known what those warriors would do, but they should have. They have a responsibility to Rome to prevent their people acting in such an unlawful and barbarous manner.’

‘Taxes, then?’

‘Indeed. A heavy tax. I haven’t decided the exact amount, but it will be determined by the number of dead in the settlement, as well as the number of soldiers, Roman and auxiliary, who were lost in the action.’ Varus cocked his head. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I wondered if you would allow me to be among those who delivered the message to the Usipetes – either with a sword, or a letter demanding more tax.’

‘You are ever the empire’s servant, Arminius,’ said Varus, looking pleased. ‘Very well. You shall be in charge of the patrol.’

‘I am grateful, governor. How strong a force will it be?’

‘Strong. Although their villages will be spared, the Usipetes need to see – and fear – Rome’s might. Take your entire command; I will also send three cohorts of legionaries. Tullus, whom you know, will be your second-in-command.’

‘Tullus is a fine centurion,’ said Arminius. ‘What about Tubero?’

Varus studied Arminius’ face for signs of sarcasm, but finding none, relaxed. ‘This is a delicate mission. I want veterans in charge.’

‘Understood. When shall we leave?’

‘The message should be delivered as soon as possible. Tomorrow, or the next day at the latest.’

XIII

THE FOLLOWING EVENING
, the sun set in a blaze of glory, staining the western sky many beautiful shades of pinks and reds. Arminius and Maelo were sitting by Arminius’ tent, and at their feet, a small pile of burning logs glowed. Around them, their warriors crouched by their own fires – it had been cooler than normal that day – and to the right, beyond their unit’s position, hundreds of legionaries were doing the same. An earth bank to Arminius’ left marked the southern rampart of the marching camp.

‘Let me go in your stead.’ Even in the poor light, the unhappiness twisting Maelo’s face was clear.

‘This is something that only
I
can do,’ replied Arminius. ‘I am the chieftain, not you.’

‘Then I should also come.’

‘I go alone.’

The camp’s position, less than a quarter of a mile from the main Usipetes settlement, had been chosen by Tullus upon their arrival. No communication had been sent to the tribe’s leaders. That would happen in the morning. As Tullus had suggested, and Arminius agreed, they could stew overnight. The centurion was a clever man, thought Arminius. Short of sacking the place, he couldn’t think of a more intimidating measure. More importantly, however, it afforded him a chance to talk to the Usipetes’ leaders in secret – this very night.

‘What if the chieftains are aware of our involvement in the annihilation of the raiding party?’ asked Maelo.

‘They won’t have heard a word.’

‘How do you know? They didn’t seem too happy when they came out to look at us.’

‘Would you react well if two thousand Roman troops appeared outside your village a few days after some of your warriors had broken the imperial peace?’

‘I suppose not,’ admitted Maelo. ‘Yet they might still know what we did.’

Arminius kept his voice level. ‘Then, when I go in there, they’ll torture and kill me.’

‘All the more reason for me to come, as protection.’

‘Two spears wouldn’t be enough, Maelo, and you know it. You would also die, and there’s no point in that. I can’t take a decent-sized escort with me either, because I’ve got to get over the rampart unseen. The Romans must not find out that I’m leaving the camp. Even if I managed to sneak a few men out, it would make the Usipetes suspicious.’

‘I don’t like this plan, Arminius.’

‘I
must
meet the Usipetes’ chieftains, and before tomorrow, when Tullus reveals the penalty for their warriors’ crimes. They are more liable to accept the punishment taxes if they understand that Varus still trusts me, that everything is in place for the ambush to work. They won’t have to wait long for revenge, in other words.’ Maelo continued to look unhappy, and Arminius said, ‘What would you have me do? When we ride east with Varus, opportunities to win over other tribes could be few and far between. This is a perfect opportunity to cement the Usipetes into our alliance. If not now, then when?’

‘You’re right,’ replied Maelo, using a branch to give the fire a savage poke.

They watched the resulting stream of sparks rise, pinpricks of light that winked out one by one.

‘The Romans’ lives will be snuffed out like those sparks,’ said Arminius, thinking of his aunt and cousins. ‘Think on that while I’m gone.’

‘Donar protect you.’

‘It is in his name that I do this.’ Arminius remembered the sacrifices he’d seen as a boy, and took strength from the memories. ‘Got the rope?’

‘I have it here.’

‘It’s dark enough. Time to move.’

They had already discussed where Arminius should go over the earthen rampart of the rectangular marching camp, which had been thrown up when they’d arrived. The four gateways – in the middle of each side – and the corners were manned at all times. At regular intervals, sentries patrolled the ramparts between these points. Arminius, Maelo and three warriors crept into position midway between a corner and a gate. Arminius could feel his heart thumping a protest. It was one thing to
talk
about getting out of the camp unseen, and another to
do
it. If he were caught, there would be hell to pay. No, he thought, it would be worse than that. Tullus would suspect him – correctly – of treachery.