‘How many more to go, Ansigar?’ Paetus shouted at a fullbearded decurion — the Batavians served under their own officers.
‘Four, sir,’ was the heavily accented reply.
‘It looks like your turma is going to win.’ Paetus looked up the stone quay at the queues of horses waiting to board the other five ships. ‘That’ll be as much beer for you and your lads as you can drink when we get back to our camp.’
Ansigar grinned. ‘If the Norns who spin our fate have made our life threads long enough, but they’re devious bitches.’
Paetus slapped his subordinate on the shoulder. ‘That’s women for you.’
‘No, prefect, that’s goddesses for you.’
Paetus gave a loud laugh. ‘Female gods! Tricky beasts; nothing worse, eh?’
‘No wonder the pompous arsehole doesn’t like him,’ Magnus observed, walking up to Vespasian with Ziri who handed him an old and battered travelling cloak. ‘He can’t even bring himself to acknowledge his men let alone join in with a bit of banter.’
‘I presume you’re talking about Corbulo, the former Consul.’
‘The one with a long nose who spouts hot air whom I’ve just passed in an advanced state of outrage barging people out of the way on the quay? Yeah, that’s the one.’
Vespasian shook his head, sighing, and took off his military cloak, giving it to Ziri. He looked up at the sun; it was reddening as it fell towards the western horizon. ‘Where’s Sabinus?’
Magnus grinned. ‘He’s got a bull and is waiting for sunset to sacrifice it to Mithras for the success of our mission.’
Vespasian tied the travel cloak over his lorica hamata, the chain mail tunic issued to auxiliaries. ‘Well, he’d better hurry up; I want to get going as soon as it’s dark.’
‘Get going where, though?’
‘We need to get as far downstream as we can and then cross the farmland on the other side of the river with as few people as possible noticing us and be in those hills before it gets light.’
‘Yeah, I know that, sir; what I was asking was: where are we actually going?’
‘What do you mean? You said that you knew the way.’
‘Did I?’ Magnus paused as a look of understanding slowly dawned on his face. ‘Oh! I see. You expect me to get us to the Teutoburg Forest.’
‘It’s the obvious place to start looking.’
‘It may be the obvious place to start looking but if you want me to find it then this ain’t the obvious place to start from. We were based at Noviomagus up in the north. We started by going east along the coast and then headed south through the lands of the Chauci. We got to the battle site by following a river called the Amisia.’
‘Well, that’s a start; we’ll head northeast until we find that river. Paetus has got men with him who know the country. Once we get there, you can show us the site of Arminius’ greatest victory, and we’ll send a message to Thumelicus telling him that we have something of interest to him, something of his father’s, then he’ll come; his curiosity will force him to.’
Magnus looked dubious. ‘Won’t his first reaction be to suspect a trap?’
‘Maybe; but that’s why I’m only taking six turmae with us. A man of Thumelicus’ standing will be able to muster a lot more than a hundred and eighty men; he’ll have nothing to fear from us.’
‘But we’ll have a lot to fear from him! Fucking great, we’re going to go to the site of the biggest massacre in living memory and invite a repeat performance, even if it’s on a much smaller scale.’
‘Well, you didn’t have to come.’
‘Of course I did, I always have to because I owe my life to your uncle.’
‘You’ve paid that debt off many times over by now.’
‘Perhaps,’ Magnus muttered. ‘Anyway, do you know where Thumelicus is?’
‘No.’
‘Then how are we going to get a message to him once we get there?’
Vespasian shrugged.
‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘No,’ Vespasian admitted, ‘I haven’t got that far yet.’
CHAPTER VII
‘Easy with him, lads,’ Paetus hissed as one of the Batavians’ horses started to shy whilst being led up the ramp from the boat’s open hold.
Vespasian’s fingers twitched behind his back as he watched two auxiliaries fighting to control the beast, pulling down on its halter, whilst stroking its muzzle and talking soothingly to it in their strange, unmelodic language. The words seemed to calm the animal and it eventually allowed itself to be led up the ramp and then down another, over the side of the vessel and into the shallow water just a few paces from the eastern bank.
Vespasian shivered and pulled the travel cloak tighter around his shoulders. Upriver to him the five other transports were hove to, as close as their shallow hulls could get up the river’s bank. In the thin light of a quarter-moon the silhouettes of horses and men could be seen disembarking. Each whinny, muffled shout or splash caused Vespasian to tense and peer east into the gloom; but there was nothing to see.
Once Sabinus had rejoined them, having made his sacrifice, they had sailed downriver for six hours until they had found a stretch of bank devoid of any glimmers of light from farmstead windows; but that did not mean that there were no dwellings nearby. Vespasian was anxious to get his small force ashore without it coming to the attention of the local population; he did not want news of their arrival to precede them on their journey. Although the tribes along the river lived and traded in peace with the Empire, the more inland ones were not beyond butchering even the best-guarded Roman merchants’ trains.
‘I’ve sent Ansigar and eight of the lads out to scout around whilst we finish disembarking, sir,’ Paetus informed him as another horse plunged up to its chest into the river with a worryingly loud snort.
‘Good. Can’t this be done any quieter?’
‘This is quiet; all our mounts have done this before. You’ll realise just how noisy it can be in a moment when we try and get your four horses and the spares out; they won’t like it.’
Vespasian grimaced. ‘Do it as quickly as you can, then; I’m going ashore.’
‘Probably best, sir. It won’t sound nearly so loud there, you’ll be able to relax more.’
Vespasian glared at Paetus but his back was already turned, his attention refocused on the disembarkation.
‘Coming round to Corbulo’s point of view, eh, sir?’ Magnus asked lightly, heaving his kit bag onto Ziri’s shoulder.
‘Bring mine ashore too, Ziri,’ Vespasian snapped a little more tersely than he meant to. Annoyed with himself, he walked up the ramp.
He emerged cold and wet from the river to find Sabinus already on the bank rubbing his thighs vigorously with a cloth. All around the auxiliaries were busy saddling their horses; most were now on land.
‘Did you talk to Paetus?’ Vespasian demanded; his mood had not been improved by the dunking.
‘I did as a matter of fact and very accommodating he was too.’ Sabinus handed Vespasian his damp cloth.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that he was very grateful that I brought the subject up; he didn’t know about the debt at all and as a mark of his gratitude has waived all interest apart from the first two years and has told me to repay it as soon as I’m able; assuming that I survive this expedition, of course.’
Vespasian rubbed his arms irritably with the cloth. ‘He’s let you off thousands; I can’t believe it.’
‘I knew that you’d share my relief, brother. I’m coming to the conclusion that he’s a very generous and decent young man, just as his father was, and what’s more he comes from a powerful family and will surely be consul one day — if we don’t get him killed first. Just the sort of man I’d find useful as a son-in-law; after all, my Flavia’s eleven and I’ll be looking for a husband for her in a year or two.’
‘You’d marry your daughter to him so you could take advantage of his money?’
‘That’s what daughters are for, isn’t it?’
A pounding of hooves on wood and a shrill equine screech prevented Vespasian from expressing his opinion; he turned to see a horse rearing up at the top of the ramp. It brought its front hooves crashing down with an echoing report and then kicked out with its hind legs, catching an auxiliary’s outstretched forearm, snapping it back like a twig so that a jagged shard of bone tore through the flesh. The man screamed as he clutched his shattered limb, adding to the horse’s terror; it jumped forward half landing on the descending ramp, buckling a foreleg beneath it at an impossible angle and then rolled, with its three intact legs thrashing, shrieking into the river with a mighty splash.