A little before midday I was rowed across in company with Quintus and Lucillius; while Barbatio, with the aquilifer and the cohort standards, followed in another boat. In a third boat were ten centurions whose armour and helmets, upon my instructions, had been carefully gilded. At the same time a boat pushed off from the other shore. The further bank was lined with a vast horde of bareheaded men, roughly dressed and carrying a motley of weapons; swords, javelins and throwing axes. Many had shields but none wore armour of any kind, it being their custom to fight naked as the saying goes. The boats landed and the two groups approached each other, each with an escort of armed men. A hundred paces apart the guard halted as I raised my hand, and I and Quintus, together with two senior tribunes, walked forward unarmed, to meet the two kings who would talk with me.
Rando, king of the Alemanni, was a tall broad-shouldered man with a red beard and only one eye, but the other made up for both in fierceness. He was the hardest looking man I had ever seen. He had a scar along the right arm and another below the left eye. Yet he had great dignity and I thought that here was a man one could talk to; a man one might fight and still respect. He was a king among eagles.
Gunderic, king of the Vandals, was blond haired and young. He smiled a lot and had beautiful teeth, but the smile was empty of emotion like the eyes above it. He had a finger missing on his sword hand and walked with the grace of a Greek athlete. He was a man any girl would have run after; but I would as soon have trusted the African leopard I saw once at the games at Arelate when I was a child.
I said formally, “I am Maximus, General of the West, and this is Quintus Veronius, my lieutenant and master general of my horse.”
I heard a quick intake of breath, saw Rando blink suddenly with his one eye, while the Vandal king frowned, the smile slipping from his face like a salmon from the net. “Shall we sit down,” I said. “At this table we can talk and I will listen to what you wish to say.”
Rando unbuckled his sword and laid it across his knees.
I said mildly, “I have come with no sword, as you can see. Do you always bear arms at the council table?”
“It is our custom,” said Gunderic. He glanced at my soldiers in the distance and smiled ironically.
The Aleman said, “I have not heard your name before.” He spoke carelessly as though to imply that I had been—that I was a man of no importance.
I said, “You have heard of me now. I was in Britannia during the years when your people made war on Gaul. We, too, had a great war with the Picts and the Scotti and the Saxons who invaded my island. I lived and they died.”
Rando raised his hand and signalled to one of his servants, who came forward carrying something wrapped in cloth. “I make you a present,” he said. “I hope that you will honour me by accepting it.”
The servant unwrapped the gift and held it out. It was a belt of solid silver, decorated in the Celtic fashion. It was very beautiful.
“Thank you,” I said. “It is, indeed, a belt fit for a king.”
Rando smiled. “It was made for one, though he never wore it.”
“I, too, have gifts for my guests and brothers: two white colts from the old royal herd of the Treveri, whose ancestors have carried kings.” I nodded to Quintus, who called out; at which a groom came to us, leading the animals on a bearing rein.
Rando looked at them and said, “Ah,” very softly. Gunderic grunted and, for one fleeting moment, gave a smile of sheer pleasure.
“If they are to your liking,” I said, “then it is General Veronius whom you must thank. It was he who chose them.”
Rando said thoughtfully, “It takes a warrior to choose such beasts.”
“And now, what can I do for you?”
The Aleman touched the belt that lay under my hand. “This was made from the silver out of a mine not far from here.”
“Aquae Mattiacae,” I said.
“So—that is how you call it. Yes, it came from there.” Rando paused and then looked at me directly. “Before you came there was much trade across the river; trade in silver, in slaves and in goods of all kinds. Your merchants wanted our slaves and our silver, and we wished to buy their goods in exchange. This you have stopped. Why?”
I said, “I have heard a rumour that your people are restless and wish to move to new lands. Perhaps the rumour is false. If it is then you will tell me.”
He ignored what I had said. “We made a treaty with your general—him they call Stilicho; and this treaty we have kept.”
I said, “That is so, but the treaty depended, in part, upon my government sending you subsidies—corn amongst other things. Last year there was a famine in Gaul and there was no corn to spare. When it was not sent you crossed the river at Borbetomagus and raided the land with armed men.”
“Our people were starving. They needed the food you promised and did not send.”
“We could not send what we had not got.”
Gunderic said, indifferently, “That is your concern, not my brother’s here.”
“It is certainly not yours,” I said, sharply. “King Rando, you were told the delivery would be late because the corn fleet from Britannia was delayed by storms. You should have known we would keep our word.”
Gunderic laughed.
Rando said, “In the treaty it was agreed that the corn should be delivered on certain dates. It was not we who broke the treaty but yourselves.”
Quintus said, “A king who was a king in more than name would have had better control over his own people.”
Rando said, quietly, “Then you do not understand my people. I do not rule them in all matters; only in some.”
I said, “Rome is not a feeble woman to be threatened and made a mock of in this way, as you will learn.”
Gunderic yawned.
Rando said, softly, “I hope the tribute will not be late this year.”
Quintus leaned forward. “Rome does not pay tribute to any race. It is the Alemanni, as we know, who make excellent slaves.”
Gunderic smashed his fist upon the table. “Are we to be insulted.”
Quintus said, “It is not possible. You are a Vandal.”
Rando did not move. He looked at us with quiet curiosity. He said, “I thought to ask for terms, not to listen to them.”
“I will tell you my terms,” I said. “Keep to your side of the river and we will keep to ours. It is as simple as that. There will be no more trade—not even in Roman slaves—until you have paid a fine in cattle for the damage done to Borbetomagus.”
“Is that all?” asked Gunderic.
“That is all.”
The Aleman said, “My brother needs land for his people. They wish to cross the river and settle in Gaul.”
I said, “My brother in arms, Stilicho, has made terms with you on this matter already.” I smiled at Rando. “Many of the Burgundians of Guntiarus, as well as those of your own people who wished to cross the river, have been allowed to do so up to the numbers that were agreed.” I looked from him to Gunderic and smiled again. “Are your people not happy under their own kings?”
The Vandal flushed but said nothing.
The Aleman king said harshly, “That is not in question.”
“What is?”
Gunderic said, “You have a great empire and vast lands containing many people. And you are rich and prosperous. We, too, are a numerous people but our land is not prosperous and—”
“You have no lands,” I said. “You came out of the east and abandoned your own lands. Why should you expect others to give you theirs?”