He chewed his lip. This moment had come sooner than he had wished. Even these, the men of his own tribe, might give the game away after he spoke to them – not here, but later. All his work, all his plans, everything he had dreamed of since he was a boy, could be undone by a subsequent unguarded remark to a Roman in Vetera.
Maelo sensed his unease. He leaned forward, rubbing his horse’s neck. ‘Arminius, they’re loyal to you, heart and soul,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You don’t have to tell them everything, just enough so that they understand why the raiders have to die. They won’t flinch from the job. It’s not as if there’s any love lost between we Cherusci and the Usipetes.’
‘True.’ Arminius straightened his back, throwing back his shoulders. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
Silence fell.
‘We Cherusci may serve Rome, but in our hearts, we’re free men. Isn’t that right?’
‘Aye!’ came a responsive roar.
Arminius tapped his silvered helmet. ‘Despite all the trappings, I have never liked serving Rome. Never liked having to do what its emperor said, most of all when it had anything to do with our own tribe, or others. I don’t want to pay this new tax either. What am I – a faceless labourer in a workshop?’
More voices of agreement.
‘There comes a time in a man’s life when servitude can no longer be borne.’
They watched him, naked curiosity – and wariness – filling their faces. ‘Not every hunting dog loves its master, Arminius, but it still does his bidding,’ called one warrior. ‘The dog that bites its master can expect to have a knife drawn across its neck.’
‘Especially if that hunting dog sleeps by its master’s side,’ added another.
‘You speak true,’ said Arminius. ‘Auxiliaries – like us – who rebel against Rome are punished in the most severe ways. But if the Romans were to suffer a catastrophic defeat, if they were to lose thousands of soldiers at one stroke, I say that you will die of old age rather than at their hands, on a cross or in an arena. Why? Because afterwards, those Roman whoresons would be too scared to cross the damn river!’
His men liked that, but they still looked uneasy.
‘You’re talking about rebellion, Arminius,’ said the warrior who’d mentioned the hunting dog.
‘I am, plain and simple.’ He let them suck on the marrow of that, and was pleased to see increasing numbers of men nodding. He raised his voice again. ‘I have had enough of the Roman yoke around my neck. I say I am free, yet I have to do the Romans’ bidding, have to pay their damn tax. I am a leader of the Cherusci, but I serve alongside one of their legions, fighting peoples with whom I have no quarrel. It is time to change these things. Time to become my own master again. Time to stand up and fight.’ His eyes tracked over his men, slowly. ‘Are you with me?’
‘I am,’ said Maelo, punching a fist in the air.
‘And I!’ Arminius was delighted to hear the warrior who’d spoken about hunting dogs and their masters. The men around him voiced their accord. It took a few moments, but then, like the rocks that follow the first stone of a landslide, the rest of his warriors joined in.
Arminius raised his hands. ‘I am thankful that we are as one on this, but the Usipetes must not hear us, my brothers.’
‘Why in Donar’s name not? We should wake them so that we can all fight the Romans!’ declared one man.
A good number of voices called out in agreement, but they quieted as Arminius began to speak again.
‘It would give me great pleasure to act so, but the place to fall upon the Romans is not here. It’s not now. We are too few, and I wish to wipe out not two cohorts, but three legions! The attack today must go ahead. If possible, every Usipetes warrior must be slain.’ He continued as his men’s faces filled with dismay. ‘The truth of it is that the Usipetes’ chieftains have already agreed to join our cause. If they find out that we have murdered some of their kin, Roman orders or no, they will tell me to shove it up my arse. That’s if I’m lucky!’ He was pleased that some warriors laughed. ‘It’s not just about the Usipetes either. We need several tribes to join us. If the Usipetes pull out, my chances of winning anyone else over will sink into the marsh, never to be seen again.’
Silence.
‘I say this with a heavy heart, but we have to follow Varus’ orders today. We must go even further in fact, to ensure that word of our involvement never crosses the river. If possible, every last one of the raiding party must be slain.’ Arminius sat stiff-backed on his horse, his stomach twisting in knots. Ten heartbeats passed. A dozen more skipped by, and still no one spoke. Arminius held his peace, keeping his expression stern.
‘Swear that if we act as you ask, you will deliver thousands of the whoresons to us,’ demanded the ‘hunting dog’ warrior. ‘Swear that we will wash away the stain of our actions with Roman blood.’
The weight of hundreds of men’s stares bore down on Arminius. Donar, help me, he asked. The wrong word, or a slip of the tongue, and he would lose them.
‘With Donar as my witness, I, Arminius of the Cherusci, make a solemn oath. With you by my side, I will teach the Romans a lesson that they will never forget. Their blood will flow in rivers; their cries of anguish will rend the heavens. Thousands of them will die, among them Varus himself. We will take their eagle standards as our own, and afterwards sacrifice their senior officers to the thunder god. In Rome, the emperor will tremble at the news of what we have done. Never again will his legions march through our lands! Never again will they trample our people!’
‘I want to see that day,’ declared Maelo, loyal as ever. ‘I will follow you.’
‘So will I, by all the gods,’ said the ‘hunting dog’ warrior.
And like that, as if a god had passed his hand over them, his men’s mood changed from wary and unsure to fierce and blood-hungry. ‘I will do as you say, Arminius!’ ‘And I!’ ‘I’m with you!’
A moment later, the sound of trumpets rang out from the north.
Arminius smiled. He had won them over in the nick of time.
X
Tullus was standing at the head of his cohort in a mixed field of emmer and millet. To the legionaries’ left, spelt was growing; to their right, lentils. The settlement lay to their north, about a quarter of a mile away. Dozens of thatched houses were visible past the crops. A fox trotted along the cart track which separated their field from the next, casting wary glances at the interlopers to its territory.
They had reached their position without incident, leading Tullus to think that the Usipetes had killed the inhabitants’ dogs. Even at this distance, it was normal for visitors to attract a hysterical chorus of barking, yet their only greeting had been the crowing of a solitary cock.
There were no spirals of smoke rising from the roofs, so no women were up, preparing barley porridge or baking flatbread. Small boys weren’t herding cattle to pasture, or sneaking in twos and threes to the river on fishing expeditions. Tullus felt even more certain that everyone was dead, and that the Usipetes were sleeping off the beer and mead they had drunk. He put the inhabitants’ fate from his mind. Their misfortune, and the Usipetes’ lack of foresight, would see the entire matter resolved fast.
His men had already spread out six centuries wide, with gaps of thirty paces between each unit. The other centurions were experienced men – but Tullus still made one last pass along the front of the cohort, checking that the legionaries were ready to advance, that they knew prisoners had to be taken. Some looked nervous. Many were praying. That was normal. Most wore fixed, determined expressions and the tense nods they gave Tullus was reassurance that they would do their job. He hadn’t long resumed his own place, at the very right of the front rank of his century, when the unmistakeable blare of trumpets carried from beyond the settlement to the north. Tubero and Bolanus, the other cohort commander, were ready. Arminius and his men would be too. Regardless of his ambivalence towards the Cheruscan, Tullus knew the man would play his part.