‘Nonsense,’ Varus declared. ‘Here, I have no paperwork to deal with, no clerks with urgent requests. I am my own master. That, let me tell you, is something that money cannot buy.’
Arminius cocked his head. ‘What do you say, Tullus?’
‘Eh?’ Tullus was watching the fifteen purple-faced, sweating legionaries, who were beginning to appear. The road was perhaps two miles to their rear, but the soldiers looked as if they’d just marched five times that distance.
‘How are you bearing up?’ asked Arminius.
‘Better than those poor bastards.’ He gestured at the legionaries, and added, ‘I’ll be content if we don’t come away empty-handed by the day’s end.’
‘Maybe Donar doesn’t want us to find anything,’ offered Varus. ‘Have you thought of that, Arminius?’
‘He will reward us if we persist. This is perfect ground to find a boar.’ Arminius pointed at a nearby fallen tree, the gnarly trunk of which was covered in exuberant growths of fungi. ‘They love rooting around those, searching for insects and worms. There’s a boggy area by a stream not far away too. During hot weather, they like to roll in the mud. Even if we don’t find a boar, we’re bound to see a deer.’
‘Gods grant we bring down something. My belly’s clapped to my backbone,’ said Varus.
Arminius rummaged in the pouch at his belt. ‘Here,’ he said, proffering a dark strip of material.
Varus eyed it with some suspicion. ‘What in the gods’ name is that?’
‘Dried bear meat.’
‘There’s a first time for everything,’ said Varus, putting it in his mouth. Tullus, who had eaten bear before, watched with some amusement as his commander chewed and chewed. ‘I’m glad I still have most of my teeth. It’s as tough as old leather,’ Varus said when he’d swallowed it. ‘Tasty, though. Is it from a bear you killed?’
‘Indeed it is.’ Arminius thrust back and forth with his spear, miming. ‘He was a tough one. Killed four of our dogs before I took him down.’
‘You have my respect. Bears are formidable creatures,’ said Varus. ‘I have never slain one, and I am not sure I ever want to get close enough to try.’
‘Your stout heart and steady spear would see you through,’ declared Arminius.
Varus looked pleased, but the compliment made Tullus uneasy. Arminius is a born charmer, he thought. Some might even say arse-licker.
BOOOOOO! BOOOOOO!
Food, drink, idle chat forgotten, the three twisted to face where the horns had blown, to their front.
‘They have found something,’ announced Arminius. ‘Best hurry, or it will have fled.’
‘Follow as fast as you can,’ Tullus ordered the nearest legionary, who nodded dully. As they outstripped their escort with ease, he worried again about an ambush. The recent trouble with the Usipetes brought them first to his mind. It wasn’t impossible that a dozen well-armed warriors might jump out from behind those sessile oak trees, for example, or that massive beech. He and Arminius wouldn’t stand a chance. The governor of Germania, dead, just like that. Tullus quelled the grim image. The Usipetes don’t know we’re here, he told himself. Relax.
Trampling the green-leaved wood melick that grew everywhere, the three ran towards the horns.
BOOOOOO! BOOOOOO!BOOOOOO!
Arminius was the youngest and fittest, and soon drew into the lead. In response, Tullus slowed until he was last. It felt better to watch Varus’ back, and it let the governor determine the pace. They went down a sloping bank, trampled through a dry stream bed and up the other side, into a mixed area of sessile oaks and beech. Tullus cursed as the tip of his spear snagged against a low-hanging branch and wrenched his wrist to the side. There was no time to check if it was sprained: Arminius was shouting something about being quite close. Tullus ducked his head to avoid a whipping bramble caused by Varus’ passage, but didn’t see the second, spindly length that followed. Thorns tore all along his cheek, and then he was free. Tullus dabbed at his face, and his fingers came away red. He kept running.
Perhaps three hundred paces further on, Arminius halted to check his bearings. Despite the chorus of squeals and barks that was audible ahead, Tullus was grateful for a reprieve. The heat and the muggy forest air were more strength-sapping than he cared to admit. Varus, who had done well thus far, was in a worse way than him. Sweat was pouring down his bright red face, and his chest was rising and falling like a smith’s bellows as it coaxes a fire to life.
‘All right, sir?’
‘I’ll … be fine. Give me … a moment.’
Tullus walked a few paces back into the trees, unsurprised to see no sign of their escort. He found he was holding his sword hilt, but he let his fingers fall away as he turned back to the other two. It was better that neither see his unease.
Maelo had appeared by Arminius’ side. ‘It’s a boar. A big male,’ he announced. ‘The dogs caught up with it, but it escaped. You need to hurry, or you’ve got no chance of a kill.’ Both Cheruscans cast a look at Varus, who waved a hand. ‘Lead on. I won’t fall behind.’
‘Just follow the noise.’ With a grin, Arminius took off after Maelo. It wasn’t long before their dark clothing blended with the trees, and they vanished.
‘Where are the legionaries?’ asked Varus, as if he had felt Tullus’ disquiet.
‘Coming along behind us, sir. They’ll reach us soon,’ said Tullus, who wasn’t at all sure that they would.
‘This is harder than I thought it would be.’ Looking rueful, Varus mopped his brow. ‘I need to exercise more. It doesn’t take long for a man to run to fat when he’s stuck at a desk every day. Best keep going, though, or we’ll kill nothing. Lead on.’
In the event, things happened fast. The cacophony of barking, yelps and squeals grew deafening as they drew nearer. Men were shouting and, through the trees, Tullus could see figures running to and fro. ‘Prepare yourself, sir,’ he said. ‘The boar could be coming back this way.’
‘Look out!’ It was Arminius’ voice.
Tullus and Varus moved apart, their eyes searching the ground before them.
The boar burst into sight half a dozen heartbeats later. A blur of motion, it came at an incredible speed. Thick-bodied, with a hump at the shoulders and covered in a thick layer of hair, it was the size of a small cart, yet it tore through the trees faster than an athlete could sprint. The tusks jutting from the sides of its slavering mouth revealed it to be a male. Barking furiously, the three boarhounds came charging after, nipping at its heels.
Tullus laughed, half amused, half frustrated. The boar would pass within fifty paces of him, but unless it slowed, it might as well be a mile away. He was no slouch with a javelin, but he couldn’t hurl a heavy spear with enough power or accuracy to bring down a beast of that size at that distance. The boar would disappear into the forest, and their pursuit would have to start all over again.
He hadn’t reckoned on the hounds, or Varus, who found a hidden reserve of energy. As one of the dogs managed to catch hold of the boar’s right hind leg, slowing its progress, Varus ran forward, his spear at the ready. Tullus blinked in surprise, and followed. In battle, a man who hesitated was lost.
Furious, the boar wheeled on its attacker. There was a loud yelp as one of its tusks connected, and the dog released its grip. Before the boar could flee, however, another hound had seized hold of its haunches. Squeals shredded the air, and the boar turned anew, gouging at the second dog’s head and neck. Droplets of blood flew everywhere, but instead of letting go, the dog clamped its jaws even tighter. This was what its two companions had been waiting for. Hurling themselves forward, they sank their teeth into whatever part of the boar came within reach.
Tullus was still about fifteen paces from the spinning mass of flesh, but Varus had closed right in. He drove at the boar with his spear. Whether it was accuracy or blind luck, Tullus couldn’t tell, but Varus’ blade sank into the beast’s neck rather than into one of the dogs. The weapon was almost ripped from his hands as the boar bucked and tossed in an effort to free itself, but Varus hung on. Tullus reached the maul and took a position several steps away. When his chance came, he too stuck his spear into the boar, taking him in the belly. Spitted on two shafts, the boar shrieked his distress, but he was far from done. With a vicious swipe of his tusks, he eviscerated one of the hounds, which fell away, yelping. At once the boar focused its attention on another of the dogs. Shouting encouragement at Tullus, Varus ran his spear even deeper into the beast’s neck. Tullus emulated the governor, shoving his weapon so far in that he wondered if it would emerge on the other side. He was now far closer to the boar and its gore-tipped tusks than he would have wished. Its rank odour clawed at the back of his throat. If it broke either of their spear shafts, he thought, they could be injured or killed.