'Yes, yes…' he said, waving me off absentmindedly as he scanned a dispatch one of his generals had handed him. 'Just return, will you, after his arrival at Vienne?'
He gave no thought, I noticed, as to precisely how I was to return back through the mountains in the dead of winter. The Empress, upon hearing my request, looked at me in alarm, and opened her mouth as if to say something to the Emperor about the inadvisability of my leaving them. Constantius, however, was already deep in a conversation about the eastern question and could not be distracted. I turned before the Empress could say anything to detain me, raced back to the tent and to my waiting luggage, threw it upon the horse, and galloped after Julian's train, which had just departed.
I rode up immediately to his chair and announced somewhat breathlessly that he would have an additional man for company, if he would agree to take me on. His face was still flushed in anger, but turning his head he looked at me with some surprise. It took a moment for my words to sink in, but when they did his expression immediately softened, and he stretched his hand out the litter with a broad grin and slapped my forearm in delight.
'What, you're traveling with me, then? And all the way to Gaul? I saw you riding behind us just now, but I assumed you were simply being a friend and walking me out into the street, rather than merely to the threshold.'
I grinned back. 'A truer friend than you expected,' I said. 'I've requested leave from Constantius. A sabbatical, if you will. Just until I see you safely installed in one of those secure little log huts the commanders dwell in on campaign.'
Helena beamed at the news of my accompanying them, for I had been her physician at the court as well as her brother's, and she was as much a hypochondriac as he. Julian, however, simply continued to stare at me with wide eyes, his face pale as the enormity of his situation slowly sunk in.
'Caesarius,' he confided, 'I truly had high expectations for this journey, indeed for this entire new phase of my life. The fall of Cologne, however, is a terrible portent, don't you agree?'
I stalled for an answer, unsure whether to inform him that I had already known of the disaster for some time. 'It's nothing, I'm sure, that a firm hand against the barbarians cannot resolve before the next year is out.'
He thought for a moment in silence. 'No doubt you're right. In any case, it doesn't matter. Caesarius, I've had plenty of time to myself over the last few days to consider what sort of Caesar I'm to be — or rather, what I will not be. I will not be a figurehead. I will not be the Emperor's puppet! It's beneath the dignity of a philosopher and a scholar to simply roll over and grovel to a man who outranks him not in intellect but merely in age and propensity to murder.'
He must have noticed my horrified expression at these traitorous words, for his face immediately softened and he reached over again to tap my forearm.
'I'm sorry, friend, to burden you with my resentments,' he continued. 'But I'm delighted you'll be riding with us on this journey. I'm afraid I can't offer you more than a position as assistant physician, since lame Oribasius has been given the principal duty. Still, I welcome your company, because I don't see much opportunity for conversation among this lot of hermits. I fear, however…'
'What, Julian?' I asked. 'You're the Caesar, the second most powerful man in the Empire. What is there to fear.'
'I'm Caesar in name only,' he replied. 'I fear that my promotion has gained me nothing but the prospect of death under more trying circumstances than otherwise.'
'Surely you're not that pessimistic?'
He smiled. 'No, to tell the truth, I am not, particularly since I resolved to take some control of this wretched situation. And now that I know you'll be staying with us, friend, I am considerably cheered.'
'I'm happy to hear that.'
He smiled wryly. 'At least now I won't be dying alone.'
BOOK TWO
The gods are hard to deal with when seen in all their glory.
I
Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres. So begins the famous treatise by the prince of military chroniclers, the deified Julius, on his conquest of Gaul, which I undertook to reread on our journey with an interest and imperative that had been entirely lacking during my schoolboy studies of the text, when I had been forced to focus more on the rigor and elegance of the general's Latin prose than on the concerns of his military strategy.
All Gaul is divided into three parts. Now, since as Virgil said, 'A greater theme appears before me, and I take up a grander task,' this seems the time to step back for a moment, to briefly examine the region to which fate had brought us. Much has changed since Julius Caesar and his legions swept through the hinterlands of Gaul four hundred years ago, bringing fire and devastation to hundreds of barbarian villages and towns, killing and enslaving a million men, entirely effacing from history and existence countless tribes and their distinguishing characteristics. The three original tribal divisions, the Belgae, the Aquitani, and the Celts, have largely been eliminated for all but administrative purposes and the occasional inter-legion athletic rivalry. Scarcely any traces remain of the once proud nations whose names struck fear into the first Roman settlers in the region: the Treviri, who were nearest the river Rhine; the Remi and other Belgians; the Santoni and the painted Veneti; the mysterious Morini and Menapii, who dwelt in the vast, misty ranges of the Black Forest and swamps; the strong-limbed Pleumoxii and the Parisii of Lutecia; the Aulerci Brannovices and their sister nations, the Aulerci Eburovices and the Aulerci Cenomani; the Lemovice and the other tribes whose territories adjoined the ocean; the warlike Bellovaci, the naked Atrebates, and all those in the states on the remote Celtic peninsula, who in their dialect were called the Armoricae; all are gone.
In their place, the broad empty plains, dark forests, and savage seacoasts of Gaul have been tamed, molded, and shaped, and brought wholly within the cultural and economic confines of the Roman Empire. No longer are the tall and fair-skinned men, whose savage glares and fierce natures once used to frighten outsiders, a source of wonder. The Gallic women of old, terrifying warrioresses who with swollen necks and gnashing teeth were known to swing their great white arms and deliver rains of deadly punches and kicks on their enemies and husbands alike, have softened and cultured over time into witty and intelligent maidens whose presence would successfully adorn the palace of even a Roman emperor. Where once rude wooden palisades protected thatch-roofed huts from invasions by wolves, bears, and nomadic tribes, powerful and wealthy Roman cities now flourish, from Marseilles on the Mediterranean coast to Paris in the north. Gauls have become Roman citizens and have served in the highest spheres of the Empire's administration and military. The Gallic legions are known and feared across the world for their magnificent stature, fierce bravery, and utter fealty to the Emperor. Sophisticated libraries, monuments, and churches now dot the landscape. The great Christian theologian Irenaeus, adversary of the Gnostics, hailed from the city of Lyons; and even the tiniest villages, from the remote mountain aerie of Venasque in the south, to Bourc'h Baz on the vast salt and salicorn marshes of the Celtic peninsula to the far northwest, are protected by the thick stone walls and auxiliary garrisons that are a veritable extension of the might of Rome itself.
Gaul has become Roman; indeed, it has become Rome. And the Germanic invasion of Gaul was therefore a strike at the heart of Rome itself.