The men he’d gathered for the briefing seemed to collectively lean closer to their newly reinstated tribune. In addition to Dubnus, who had acted as the 1st Tungrian cohort’s first spear while Julius had been temporarily ranked as the Third legion’s senior centurion during their time in the east, he had summoned Qadir, a centurion who hailed from the city of Hama in Syria, a man he valued highly both for his imperturbable steadiness and his men’s skill with their bows, and Cotta, simply for the veteran’s experience and forthright opinions. His German slave Arminius stood behind him, having long since become more companion than bondsman, the first member of the small group of men Scaurus had come to consider as his familia. Ignoring Julius’s disgust at being left behind, Scaurus had swiftly decided that since only a small portion of his two cohorts’ strength would be marching north he would leave a strong leader to ensure that those men left behind were kept fit and ready to fight, and since Marcus already knew the detail of their mission he’d sent the younger man home with the first spear to spend a little time with his son before the time came to leave. Taking a sip of the wine that he traditionally served at such gatherings of his officers, he pointed to the map that lay unfurled on the desk before him.
‘I’ll be taking a small party of men north to the provincial capital, and leaving the rest of both cohorts here, a distance of a thousand miles that I expect will take twenty-five days or so on horseback. From there we’ll cross the river by whatever means is deemed to be the most likely to get us onto the far bank without being discovered.’
Cotta looked up at him in surprise.
‘We’re going to cross the Rhenus?’
Scaurus’s lips twitched into a wry smile.
‘It’ll be fairly difficult to carry out the task I’ve been handed by the emperor’s chamberlain if we don’t.’
The veteran centurion shook his head with a stubborn expression.
‘But … everyone knows that barbarian Germania’s just a mess of forests and bogs, Tribune. How are we going to make any progress through that?’
He fell silent as he realised that both Scaurus and Arminius were looking at him with expressions of amusement.
‘You shouldn’t believe everything that you’re told, Centurion Cotta. The lands across the Rhenus are no better and no worse than those on the western bank, they just haven’t been subjected to Roman influence. There’s some fertile farmland, some deep forests and yes, even some mountains and bogs, but very little of it is completely impassable. The biggest challenge won’t be the terrain, it’ll be making sure that we’re not detected by the tribesmen who inhabit the land we’ll be crossing to reach our objective. Because if they find out what it is that we’re hoping to take away from them then both cohorts wouldn’t be enough to protect us. Not nearly enough.’
Dubnus stared at him in open disbelief.
‘What is it that’s so important to these tribesmen that we have to take it away? Gold?’
Scaurus shook his head.
‘It isn’t a what, Centurion, it’s a who. We’re ordered to effect an abduction, gentlemen, a kidnapping of the most dangerous person in the whole of Germania.’
‘Since you’re here you can hold this young man while I sort out their dinner.’
Marcus took his son from Annia, placing the squirming infant onto his knee and jigging the child up and down to both their delight, his misery forgotten momentarily at the sight of his son’s innocent enjoyment.
‘And you, infamous daughter-namer, can have this wriggling bundle of delight.’
Depositing her daughter Victoria into her husband’s lap she turned on her heel and stalked into the kitchen, noisily rattling pots as she prepared the two children’s evening meal. Julius and Marcus exchanged knowing glances, the heavily bearded first spear grimacing at his friend.
‘Best not to say anything when she’s in this mood. She only brings up the fact that I chose the girl’s name without consulting her when she’s raging about something or other.’
The retort from the kitchen was instant.
‘I heard that. And you needn’t pull that face either.’
Silence reigned for a while, broken only by the children’s giggles, Julius’s eyes narrowing as his daughter first found his beard and then discovered the fun to be had from pulling at it.
‘So it’s Germania?’
His question went unanswered for a moment, while the Roman watched his son’s face beam with delight at their game.
‘So it seems. A simple enough task, as long as we don’t let the Bructeri get scent of us.’
‘Bructeri?’
‘A German tribe who live on the land across the river from the provincial capital.’
He moved the child to his other knee, repeating the jigging trick to provoke another giggling shout of delight, and Julius stared at him for a moment before speaking.
‘Marcus …’ The Roman looked up at him, eyebrows rising at the troubled look on his friend’s face. ‘Are you sure that you’re ready for this?’
‘Which means you’re sure I’m not.’
Julius shrugged helplessly.
‘You’re your own man. But …’
‘But I’m not myself. Withdrawn most of the time, distant, as if I’m not really interested in what’s happening around me. Yes. I believe my wife would have diagnosed a severe reaction to a number of events that have happened over the last few years. The death of my family, several pitched battles, the killing of my enemies both for the empire and for my own purposes and now her rape and effective murder by the one man I can’t take any revenge on. I lack focus on the events around me, my former speed with my swords has deserted me and when I go to my bed sleep eludes me. I can hardly see the point of it all any more, Julius, and there are times when all I want to do is curl up in a corner and cry.’
His friend stared at him in silence for a moment, then nodded.
‘We’ve seen it before, in men who reached the limits of their courage and surrendered to their fears. And you and I both know that they swiftly become useless in a fighting unit, much less a detachment tasked with crossing the river Rhenus and taking on these …’
‘Bructeri.’
‘So why go, Marcus? Why put yourself at such risk when you’re clearly not ready? Stay here with us, enjoy your son! The gods know you’ve seen little enough of him since he was born, and here you are threatening to go away and in all likelihood never come back.’
The younger man jigged his knee again, setting Appius giggling once more.
‘I know. And I know I should stay. But I can’t. What if my friends went across the Rhenus and were never seen again? How could I forgive myself? And what is there for me in Rome anyway, other than the ghosts of my family and my wife, and the grinning, fornicating bastard that murdered them all?’
Julius shook his head in disbelief.
‘You’re going with them. You’re going to turn down the chance to rest, recover your wits and spend some time with the child, and go north as part of some idiotic scheme that’s more than likely been dreamed up by that bastard Cleander simply as a way to have you disappear.’
‘Yes. I should feel some emotion at the prospect of leaving Appius fatherless, but all I feel is … numb.’
‘He’ll never be fatherless, I promise you that.’
‘Here, you can shovel this into the little monster.’
Annia had returned with a pair of bowls, placing one on the table in front of Marcus.