There was a heavy impact as another spear was plunged into the boar. Tullus wasn’t ashamed to feel relief that Arminius had arrived. Even with three spears in its body, and two dogs hanging off it, the boar would not die. It wasn’t until Varus’ blade slid right into its chest cavity that that happened. Gouts of bright red blood poured from its mouth as it shuddered its way to oblivion.
Its dead weight was far too great to hold up. Tullus and the others released their spears as one, letting the boar collapse to the ground. Fierce grins split their faces as the reality sank in. ‘Fine work, sir,’ said Tullus.
‘Yours was the first strike?’ Arminius saluted Varus. ‘You did well, governor. He must weigh as much as three men.’
‘I didn’t stop him. It was that poor creature.’ Varus gestured at the gutted dog, which was being dispatched by Maelo.
‘Nonetheless, it takes balls to charge a boar of that size, and to stay with him until another hunter can get to you,’ said Arminius. He spoke a couple of sentences in his own tongue – Tullus heard the words ‘first to blood his spear’ – and the gathering warriors called out in appreciation. When Arminius pulled free his hunting blade and raised it, crimson-coated, to the sky, they joined in his shout. ‘Varus! Varus! Varus!’
His concerns about the Usipetes set aside, so too did Tullus. Varus had a name for being a brave man, an individual who got things done, and this was proof of it. The governor was a man to follow, which made Arminius’ continuous stream of compliments more likely to be genuine.
Tullus’ disquiet about Arminius lingered, however. Life had taught him that people who worked hard to win others over always had an ulterior purpose.
What was Arminius’ motive?
The sun was falling in the sky and the muggy heat had abated by the time that the party neared the Rhenus. Small boys clutching poles and strings of fish stood by the roadside, watching as the soldiers passed by. Scrawny pups by their feet yapped futile challenges. An old woman sat by a little stall covered with vegetables, crying in bad Latin that her produce was the best in all of Germania.
Tullus was riding at the front as before, with Varus, Arminius and Maelo. They had been sharing skins of wine since reaching the wagon, and Tullus was half pissed. It wasn’t surprising. He’d had nothing to eat since dawn except a strip of Arminius’ dried bear meat, and he had shed a bucketload of sweat during the long hunt through the forest. If he had been one of the unfortunate legionaries who had accompanied them, Tullus decided, or one of the warriors who had lugged the boar’s gutted carcase back to the road, he wouldn’t have made it to the end of the day. He was getting old, that was the problem. Stop it, you fool, he ordered himself. Some of your new recruits wouldn’t have kept up today.
‘Tullus.’
With an effort, he focused on Varus. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘You’ll dine with me tonight,’ Varus repeated. ‘Arminius and Maelo will be there too.’
‘I’d be honoured, sir.’
‘I will need the company. Arminius is saying that because mine was the first spear into the boar, I must eat one of its balls.’
Tullus glanced at the Cheruscans in disbelief. ‘It’s our tradition,’ said Arminius, grinning. ‘The most courageous hunter has to savour the bravest part of the boar.’
‘You’ll both have a mouthful too,’ warned Varus, also smiling. ‘But the other bollock belongs to Tullus.’
Tullus, who had been drinking from the skin, spluttered wine everywhere. Arminius threw back his head and laughed. ‘Sir …’ Tullus managed.
‘There’ll be plenty of good wine to wash it down, you have my word,’ said Varus.
‘As our host today, you must have at least one mouthful of mine as well,’ Tullus shot at Arminius.
Arminius grinned in acceptance. ‘So be it.’
Tullus winked, glad to have paid Arminius back a little. In truth, he wasn’t that bothered about eating a few mouthfuls of rubbery testicle. It was a small price to pay for the vintages that Varus had at his disposal.
Tullus’ good humour faded soon after, however, when he spotted a horse and rider galloping towards them from the direction of Vetera. No one rode that fast unless there was an urgent reason, and in Tullus’ long experience, it was seldom a good one. ‘Messenger approaching, sir,’ he said.
Varus’ mouth turned down as he too spied the horseman. ‘We’re not even over the river, and already duty calls.’ He urged his mount in front of the rest and, with an imperious wave, gestured that the rider should halt.
The man was a messenger, thought Tullus, spotting the ‘SPQR’ brand on the horse’s withers. Augustus might be the first emperor, but the mark, a vestige of how things had been in the Republic, remained in use. Men such as these carried official news the length and breadth of the empire, renewing their mounts at the regular way stations. It was possible that whatever Varus was about to hear had come all the way from Augustus, in Rome.
The messenger looked none too happy at being stopped. ‘I seek Publius Quinctilius Varus,’ he cried.
‘And you have found him,’ replied Varus in a sardonic voice.
The messenger’s face could not have fallen any further. ‘My apologies, sir. I did not recognise you.’
Varus made an impatient gesture. ‘Who sent you, and what news do you carry?’
‘Vala said I should find you with all speed, sir. Reports are coming in of a band of Usipetes that have crossed the river, some distance between here and Asciburgium. They have sacked numerous farms, and are moving westward.’
Varus let out a ripe oath. ‘How many?’
‘It’s not clear, sir. Several hundred at least.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Vala said that it was too late to send out any troops, sir. He knew that you were returning from a hunt, and would want to decide on the best response.’
Dismissing the messenger with orders for Vala to organise a meeting of his senior officers, Varus regarded Tullus with a faint smile. ‘The Usipetes were unhappy with my ruling after all. They will have to be taught the error of their ways.’
‘Aye, sir,’ replied Tullus with a grim nod.
‘Refrain from drinking any more wine. You too, Arminius.’
‘You’d like me to be part of the retaliatory force, governor?’ asked Arminius. Tullus glanced at him, wondering if he had sensed a tinge of reluctance in his voice. The Cheruscan’s face was bland, however.
‘I would. Tullus too,’ answered Varus. ‘Tubero will lead you. It’ll be an opportunity for him to learn from both of you how things are done.’
IX
When Arminius heard about the Usipetes’ raiding party, he was furious. Varus could respond in but one manner. Retaliation. Why did Varus have to pick him to be part of it? The Usipetes were his allies, secret or no. If their chieftains heard that their warriors had been slain by Cheruscans and, worse still, that he had been involved, any chance of their cooperation would vanish forever.
If Arminius could have, he would have seen that the raiding party was wiped out. Thanks to Varus’ desire for prisoners, though, the raiders’ fate had been taken out of his hands. Varus’ legionaries would follow their orders. The best Arminius could do was to order his men to slay as many of the raiders as they could, and hope that the ones who were captured and interrogated didn’t give anything away. Everything felt risky and uncertain, but he had to remain confident that the Usipetes’ chieftains would not find out about his involvement.