Arminius was vexed. He did not know where the Romans would land and launch their invasion from, though he knew it would come deep within their territory. What he needed now was time to organize and assemble his forces. He had kept all the war chiefs as his guests throughout the winter in order to keep them close at hand when the moment came. He stepped outside. It was a warm day. He watched as huntsmen returned with their game, foresters returning with loads of lumber. All these men would soon throw down their labors and rally to their true calling. These men were Cherusci, warriors without equal in courage and ferocity. They would all be needed in order to repel the Roman invaders. Ingiomerus came walking over to him. The tenacious old warrior had almost fully recovered from the fearful wound he suffered at Ahenobarbi just a few months before.
“Well?” he asked.
Arminius turned to face him. “It is time.”
Ingiomerus smiled and turned to go find the other war chiefs. Soon, all were gathered around their leader. In spite of their hardheadedness and reckless abandon, Arminius truly loved these men. They were, after all, his people…his blood…his very life. They had faced the Romans time and again and would continue to do so until the issue was decided for good.
“Where shall we face the Romans?” Haraxus asked. He had been amongst the most fanatical and devoted of all the warriors Arminius had. With him was his young son, eager to join his father in battle.
Arminius smiled at the boy and immediately thought about his own son. He sighed. His son, if it was a son, had to have been born by now. Would he ever see him, and would the child ever know his father? It was highly unlikely. Arminius shook his head. He could not focus on such things if he was going to lead his people to any kind of military success against the pending invaders.
“Our warriors are brave, but I believe they are a bit shaken since last season,” he began.
“Arminius, your warriors will follow you into hell itself!” Haraxus retorted.
The rest of the council rumbled and nodded in agreement.
And that’s just where I’m taking them, he thought to himself.
“The Romans will fight us wherever we choose,” he said aloud, “so anxious are they for battle. There is a place where, not only will they have the courage and the valor of our warriors to deal with, they will also have the gods themselves to face! It is there that we will bring every warrior from every tribe in our alliance. There we will give battle. Come with me to Idistaviso!”
Chapter XVII: Into the Heart of Germania
Off the coast of Germania, near the Ems River
May, 16 A.D.
Artorius watched as the coast slowly passed by. Each section took their turn at the oars. At least they didn’t get blisters with all of the calluses built up from hours of weapons practice. It was his turn to man the scorpion along with Magnus. Every time he had to man the scorpion, he hoped he would see barbarians on the coast, trying to harass their movement. So far it had been quiet. Only one time had they been harassed, and he had been on oar duty at the time. Gavius and Valens had succeeded in killing one enemy assailant with the scorpion before the others fled. Today it did not look like Artorius and Magnus would get to see any action.
Everyone was a little bit on edge since they were approaching the heart of Germania. They had a feeling that Arminius was simply waiting for them to get to a tight spot on the river, and then spring his trap. They could feel the eyes of barbarians watching them as they floated quietly along the coast.
Artorius looked around. The fleet of ships and barges was huge by the time the other legions plus auxiliaries had joined up with them. A few of the unwieldy barges had foundered when they reached the mouth of the river and the breaking surf. Fortunately, none were drowned and all were pulled onto other craft. He could see neither the beginning nor the end of the formation.
“And against us the Germans will throw every warrior in the entire damn land,” he heard Magnus complain.
“Let them,” Artorius said. “I hope they do come at us with everything they have. Then we can kill them off once and for all!”
Magnus shook his head. “Still haven’t quite lost your lust for revenge, eh?”
“Oh, no,” Artorius answered, “just a little more focused is all.”
“You know, the only thing I really lust for…” Valens started to say as Decimus lifted his oar out of the water and smacked him on top of the head.
“We know what you lust for!” Decimus said.
Valens threw down his oar, turned, and jumped on top of Decimus. He picked the other legionary up and threw him into the water. As Decimus pulled himself, laughing, back onto the barge, Statorius grabbed his gladius, still in the scabbard, and smacked them both across the ears.
“Enough!” he shouted. “I will not have my legionaries acting like a bunch of fucking idiots! One more stunt like that and it will be the centurion’s vine stick for the both of you!”
“Could you, please, not rock the boat?”
They heard Carbo shout from the back of the barge. He was squatting off the back, holding on to a piece of timber while trying to relieve himself. Any sense of modesty was completely overwhelmed by the needs of nature.
“Tension’s starting to get to everyone,” Magnus whispered.
“Well, we’ve been on this barge for two weeks already,” Artorius replied under his breath. “I think boredom is starting to set in, too.”
“It set in a couple of days into this damn voyage,” Magnus said.
“Could be worse,” Artorius said. “We could be facing skirmishes, ambushes, and building damn bridges through the swamps of that cursed land like last time.”
Carbo let out a stream of oaths. “I can’t believe no one thought to put a damn privy seat back here, and who forgot to smooth the splinters on the railing? Oh, my delicate behind!” he moaned, causing everyone to laugh at their friend’s plight.
Artorius chuckled as he wiped stray wood shavings from the front of his tunic and quietly replaced his dagger.
Germanicus watched the fleet rowing their way along from his vantage point in the flag ship. He was awestruck by the tremendous power that he wielded. This was the most impressive machine of war assembled in one place. His eight legions alone numbered roughly forty-thousand men. In addition to these were auxiliaries, cavalry, archers, and over four hundred pieces of artillery awaiting his orders. Communication and coordination were an absolute necessity. As huge as his army was, he knew the forces mustered by Arminius would be much larger. It didn’t seem possible as he watched the ships and barges filling the water as far as he could see. The weather and Neptune had cooperated, allowing the men to camp on the shoreline each evening. The Ems River was soon in sight on the horizon to the east. A few days travel up the river, find where Arminius had gathered his forces, and it would, hopefully, be over soon afterwards. They had dealt Arminius a blow the year before. However, they were far from having avenged the tragedy of Teutoburger Wald.
After three days of rowing up the Ems River, the army disembarked and started setting up its fortified camp.
The camp was absolutely huge. Lumber was plentiful in the heart of Germania, but the labor involved in erecting such a massive fortification to house a large number of men had been astounding. Artorius stood his post on sentry duty, marveling at his own small role in everything. Decimus stood the post with him as well, the rest of the section either working on personal equipment issues or catching up on sleep.
“How long have they been gone?” Artorius asked, referring to the flying column that left to lay waste to the newly rebellious Angrivarii tribe.