With a sinking feeling I knew that he was telling the truth. The soldiers had spoken of Crassus’s agents operating in the area. I myself had told Caesar how many of his enemies were counting on his meeting with disaster in Gaul. How deep had this rot gone? Were Crassus and his allies in the Senate (and Caesar had many enemies who were not allies of Crassus) actually aiding the ambitions of Ariovistus materially? Crassus was so rich that this was possible.
“You still must deal with the Roman soldiers,” I told him, “and they rarely ever see Rome. Their loyalty is to their general.”
“Roman loyalty is to be bought by anyone who has gold,” he sneered.
Now I knew that the answers were almost within my grasp. “Not all, but some. Only a few. Was it with the gold Crassus and Pompey and the others gave you that you suborned the First Spear of the Tenth Legion, Titus Vinius?”
For a moment he looked nonplussed. “It was with my own gold that I bought Titus Vinius.”
Now I was taken aback. “But Germania is not rich in iron, much less in gold.”
“That does not mean we are poor,” Ariovistus maintained. “Wealth lies in land and in fighting men. All else is to be taken when you have those. A few years ago I crossed the river as ally of the Sequani in their war against the Aedui. First I smashed the Aedui, then I took a third of the land of the Sequani.” He chuckled and rocked back and forth. “They owed me something for defeating their enemies, didn’t they? In the conquered land, my hunters found a great heap of treasure in a marsh. It was a dedication from the Gauls to their gods after a battle long ago.”
“I have heard of the custom,” I said.
“Most of the iron was too rusted to salvage, after so many years. The bronze was corroded away as well. But silver and gold last forever.” He gestured at the gold he and Freda wore. “I have plenty of gold now. I will be paid even more when I kill Caesar, unless he is wise and goes back home. It is all the same to me.”
“What was it you bought from Vinius?” I asked him.
“When the time came, when my army clashed with Caesar’s, he was to betray the camp to me. He assured me that it would be easy to do. He could weaken the guard on the wall on a night of my choosing. You Romans do not like night fighting. We do. With an enemy in your camp in the middle of the night, when you cannot form your battle lines and every man is on his own, you can be slaughtered like sheep. Tell Caesar that. Let him know that his soldiers are not as loyal to him as he thinks.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but I could not. Almost fifty years before, in the war with Jugurtha, corrupt Roman officer-politicians had sold out our legions and let the Numidians in at night, all for gold. The results had been as Ariovistus said. Even in the middle of these depressing thoughts, the light of revelation dawned over me.
“You violated a Druid sanctuary,” I said.
“What of that? I despise the Druids. They only make trouble, trying to unite the Gauls against me. When Gaul is mine, I will hang them all in the groves.” A sentiment he seemed to share with Caesar.
“But they somehow got wind of your arrangement with Vinius and decided to do you a bad turn, is that it? They killed him. Druids can’t bear arms, but they can kill men in sacrifice.”
“They will pay for killing the dog I paid for,” he vowed.
“Three have already paid,” I pointed out.
“It was not enough. I made of those three a gift to my gods, and a warning to the others that I respect their lives no more than I respect their treasure.” He seemed to be in an explaining mood, and I was in a mood to exploit that.
“How did they learn about Vinius?” I asked.
His face twisted. “I cannot be sure. I suspected that he might be double-dealing. The man’s treachery was boundless, and the Druids had plenty of gold with which to bribe him. As a pledge of the bond between us, I gave him first my counselor Molon to use as interpreter and go-between, then I gave him my sister, Freda. In truth, they were to keep an eye on him and see if he stole off privily to confer with the Druids or any other high-placed Gauls. I bade Molon be a good slave and submit to his beatings and he would be richly rewarded. Freda, of course, he had to treat well, although he was to pretend she was a captive slave.” The woman favored me with a chilling smile and I wondered how much she had told her brother.
There was something otherworldly, almost dreamlike, about this. Here I was, sitting on the dirt in a crude hut among hairy savages, hearing from their chieftain a tale of intrigue and espionage worthy of the Great King of Persia and his subtle ministers. Well, I already knew from my experience with Freda that just because you wear fur and can’t quote from the odes of Pindar, it doesn’t mean that the possibility for sophistication isn’t there.
“You misjudge your position of strength,” I told him, “and you misjudge the determination of Rome. We are at war with the Helvetii, but many other Gallic tribes lie under our protection or are bound to us by ties of alliance. And you overestimate the degree of treachery and corruption in our army from the example of a single man. Granted, it was a particularly egregious example.”
“My course was determined long ago and I am not here to discuss diplomatic affairs with you. I want you to take my words to Caesar. In return, you should be grateful to have your life. Your title sounds impressive, and Molon tells me that your name is that of one of the great families, but I know that there are many of you Senators, and more Senators are made every year, and few of you are of any importance.” For a barbarian, he had a certain clear-eyed regard for the realities.
“Then I shall deliver your words,” I said. “You have my pledge as a Roman.” I chose to ignore his snort of contempt. “And now, King Ariovistus, if I have your leave, I must return to the camp. Certain pressing matters call me there.”
“You will go when I say so,” he said, glaring like an angry bear.
“But we have no further business,” I pointed out, “and I must return at once. Caesar has charged me to investigate the murder of Titus Vinius.”
“So Molon has informed me. What of it?”
“A whole contubernium lies under suspicion and imprisoned under guard at this minute. If I do not denounce the Druids as the guilty parties, eight innocent men will die a most lingering, excruciating death.”
He and Molon muttered back and forth for a while. I suspected that the interpreter was having a hard time explaining the word “innocent” to Ariovistus. Then the king addressed me once more, through Molon.
“There are no innocent Romans.”
13
Ariovistus kept us in his camp for five more days. There were no more beatings, and we were fed regularly. Our bonds were not too tight. But we were under constant guard by men for whom the word “unsympathetic” must first have been coined. In the absence of physical abuse, mental anxiety fully occupied us. This was a barbarian king, who might change his mind at the slightest whim. Nobody spoke to us. A few times Freda walked by and I tried to engage her in conversation, but she had lost interest even in beating me. Oddly, I almost felt slighted in this. Perhaps there was a little Titus Vinius in me after all. Molon, likewise, merely shook his head when I addressed him.
So Hermes and I talked to each other for lack of better company, as men will when they are confined together. I told him that, when we got back to Rome, I would enroll him with a schoolmaster, for I would be needing a secretary in my future career. He said that maybe staying with the army and fighting Gauls and Germans wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.