“We did not abandon our lands. We were forced to leave—”
Pride, perhaps, forbade him to mention the truth, that they had been driven out by the Huns. But perhaps he was speaking the truth: he did not know. The story had been twisted in the handing down, as fathers, determined to retain the respect of their sons, tried hard to turn stories of defeat into those of victory. Even we in Rome had done the same thing.
I said, “Italia was not your land but you tried to take it from us. Now you cross the white mountains. Why should we help you? Let the Alemanni do that, who are now your hosts and brothers.”
Rando said quickly, “It is our desire that those who wish be allowed to cross the river peacefully.” He glanced significantly at my sentries. “Without war,” he added softly.
I looked at them in silence. They had fought us in turn for years now, yet there were Alemanni serving with Stilicho, Burgundians married to citizens of Treverorum and Vandals without number in the army of the east. They envied us, they feared us and they hated us. They had never known a time when Rome did not patrol their frontiers and punish their raids with a strength they could never overcome. The enmity between us was an unhealed scar that reached down to the bone.
“Were you so peaceful when you visited Moguntiacum as a young man?” I asked. Rando did not answer me.
I said, “Let who wishes speak for himself. Do you, King of the Alemanni, wish to move your people into our lands and accept the protection of Rome?”
He hesitated. “I?” he said. “My people and I can take what we want—if we choose—if it is our wish. It is our wish at the moment to be content with what we hold.”
“So,” I said. “That leaves only you, King Gunderic, who are a king of a people without a land. It is you alone then who wishes to serve Rome?”
He said, with a smile, “In the past it was said that Rome turned kings into slaves. Perhaps that was true. I do not know. But then Rome was strong.” He smiled again. “She is not strong now, and I have no wish to be a slave. But I am willing to take service in the army of your empire if, in return, you grant to my people a third of the soil of Gaul for them to farm and to call their own.” He smiled a third time. “I understand that you need men who can work your farms and you need men who will serve as soldiers of the Emperor. All this my people will do.”
Quintus said slowly, “You were with King Radagaisus in Italia. In his army were many peoples who, when they were beaten and Radagaisus was dead, moved north out of Rome’s way. A third died at the hands of Stilicho. Do you mean to tell my general here that only the Asding Vandals are in need of new lands?” Quintus held up a letter. “It is all here in a letter to us from the Emperor’s general.”
The Aleman stroked his beard. “It is as my brother says.”
I said, “He had forty thousand men when he crossed the mountains. I am to find homes for two-thirds of those. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And if I refuse.”
Gunderic hunched his shoulders. “You cannot refuse what we ask.”
“It is not you who asks,” I said. “I can refuse anything.”
The Aleman said politely, “You have a great army, no doubt.”
I said quietly, “I would not advise you to find out.”
“I have,” he said. “We have many friends on your bank. You have only a small force. You could not stand out against one of our peoples even.” He paused, Gunderic glanced at him, and said quickly, “It would be wiser to make terms as Stilicho did.” He added harshly, “Stilicho is a Vandal. He has wisdom in this matter.”
“And I am a Roman.” I stood up and Quintus stood up with me. “You, who are a wise man with much experience, will know by now that spies so often tell their masters only what they wish to hear, especially when they receive silver from both sides.” I saw his mouth tighten as I spoke. “Besides, you forget, I came from Britannia,” I said. “I brought my legion with me but I have more on the way.” I smiled. “Nanienus who beat your father in battle at Argentaria was my countryman.” Rando gave a little hissing breath. “One horseman is worth three men on foot,” I added gently.
Gunderic said insolently, “That is what my father told me and he fought at Adrianopolis. I forget how many Roman soldiers were killed there. The plain was white with their bones.”
“Precisely. My cavalry is anxious to see if they can do the same.”
“You have not enough men.”
“Try me,” I said. “It is your wives and your children who will be sorry. Did I not tell you that the Burgundian king stands on my left side in this matter. And that is the side that matters: the side of loyalty.”
The Aleman king rose to his feet. “Remember that we asked to come in peace,” he said.
“Share your lands in peace with each other and be content with what you have.”
Gunderic glared at me. “If you offered silver as Stilicho did I would not accept it.”
“Do not worry,” I replied. “That offer was never in my mind.”
Gunderic clenched his fist. “When the spring comes—” he said, threateningly.
“Yes, when the spring comes I may decide to hold the right bank of this river instead of the left, as we did in the old days. I await only my other legions. But by that time you may be hungry. I will pray that the winter is a mild one.” I turned to the Aleman king. “I hope that your harvest was good so that you may feed your guests with true hospitality. It would be cruel if they were to be a burden to you.”
Rando said stiffly, “My friends are my friends.”
Quintus laughed, and his sudden laughter startled them. “Of course. Why not? For myself I never let my friends stay too long lest they come to think of my home as their own. Guests are thoughtless people.”
As they turned to go I said, “Remember, King of the Alemanni, there is peace so long as the river is between us. But let one of your people set foot on my bank without permission and he will be killed before he has time to dry himself.”
They left, discomfited, and we returned to Moguntiacum.
Lucillius, my senior tribune, unlaced his helmet. “I’m glad that’s over,” he said. “They scared me.”
“The question is,” said Quintus, “whether they believe our bluff.”
“They have to,” I said.
Lucillius said, “They were worried at the start when you mentioned the cavalry.”
“That was what I intended.”
Quintus raised an eyebrow. “I hesitate to criticise but—was it wise to put our dice on the table.”
“Why not? If we were strong enough I would be happy to encourage them to do battle, and beat them. But we are not, so I must discourage them from attempting to cross in any way I can.”
“But if they know how many men we have—”
“They don’t. They suspect we are a small force. Their spies told them as much. Remember, I kept the cavalry this summer always apart in small detachments. They thought us a legion in the old formation. As Lucillius says, they were alarmed at my having a master general of horse.”
“Fifteen hundred cavalry,” said Quintus softly. “Oh, Mithras.”
Lucillius said, “If only the Vandals want to cross—well, surely, there aren’t many of them, sir. Wouldn’t it be better to come to terms? We could absorb them easily.”
“Is that what you think?” I said. “Why did the Aleman king say—and he did not mean to let it slip—that we could not hold out against even one of them? Because the Vandals aren’t the only tribe who wish to make the crossing.”
Quintus looked at me sharply. “Are you sure?”
“I am certain of it. Radagaisus’ men included Ostrogoths and Quadi. They were the advance guard. If their Italian raid had been successful the rest would have followed. But they failed, their retreat home was cut off and they were forced to take refuge in the Aleman country. The Aleman are too strong to be pushed out but not rich enough to feed their unwilling guests for ever.”