“Four days maybe,” Decimus answered.
“I’m kind of glad we missed out on that little operation,” Artorius replied, looking off into the distance where he knew the Angrivarii were being sorely punished for their misdeeds.
“Serves them right,” Decimus said. “Though I admit that sticking farmers and destroying land is not one of the more enjoyable tasks a legionary performs.”
“What are some of the more enjoyable tasks?” Artorius asked, trying to make for an interesting conversation.
“Whoring, drinking, gambling, sports, and I suppose whoring some more…with a little bit of plunder thrown in!” Decimus shouted boisterously.
Artorius laughed. “Sounds like the life of Sicilian pirates!” he remarked.
“Except we get paid to do it…and we don’t have to like the sea very much.”
The wind was blowing warm and gentle. It felt good to Artorius. He still cringed from the cold winter they had had to endure. He hoped next winter would be spent mostly indoors and not out on ambush duty or building boats. The grass was green and everything was in full bloom.
“With days like today, it’s hard to believe there’s a war going on,” he remarked.
“I know,” Decimus replied.
Just then they caught movement out in the distance. There were several horsemen at the front of a large number of men. Some of the horsemen were carrying Roman standards.
“Column’s returning!” Artorius shouted over his shoulder.
This was echoed by the other sentries. He watched as several men rode on horseback from the center of the camp. With the camp being as large as it was, it was impossible to move from one end to the other at any decent speed without a horse. He recognized two of the men as Germanicus and Severus. They met the column and its legate as they rode in through the front gate.
“Looks like they had a profitable time,” Artorius remarked, looking at the weighted bags of plunder the infantry carried with them.
“Damn, I guess it’s too bad we didn’t go on this one,” Decimus replied. “Looks like the Angrivarii were quite the prosperous tribe.”
“That’s just it. They were a prosperous tribe,” Artorius retorted as he turned back to watch his sector and enjoy the warm breeze and the smells of the open fields. The paradox was not lost on him. He contemplated the scenic and peaceful view that calmed his senses. Here he was an armed, professional killer in the midst of it all. The gods have a sick sense of humor, he thought to himself.
At the same time the flying column returned from destroying the Angrivarii, reconnaissance cavalry also returned from the east. They had a full report to give to the commanding general. Germanicus had, therefore, called for a meeting of all his senior leaders within the army. Everyone from the rank of centurion pilus prior and above sat, or stood, in a circle as the lead scout drew out the known locations of the enemy onto the ground.
“You were correct, sir,” the scout began, “Arminius does intend to finally face us in open battle. Our operations against the Angrivarii have given him time to muster his minions.”
“How many does he have?” Gaius Caetronius, Legate of the First Legion asked.
“It is impossible to tell for sure. Suffice it to say, with what we were able to discover, they outnumber us significantly. Though the Cherusci themselves have amassed the largest number of warriors, there are at least twelve tribes who have joined forces with Arminius. And it looks like each has committed every warrior they have.”
“Where have they hidden their troops?” Gaius Silius, newly appointed Legate of the Fifth Legion asked.
“They’re gathering at a place called Idistaviso. It is on the eastern side of the Weser River.”
“That place is very sacred to the Cherusci,” an auxiliary commander named Chariovalda said. “It is next to a grove they have dedicated to a god not unlike your Hercules.”
“So they feel they will have their gods to support them,” Severus scoffed.
“The Weser is a wide, turbulent river,” the scout continued. “There are several places where cavalry will be able to cross fairly easily. However, we will need bridges for the infantry to cross en masse.”
“That can be done easily enough,” Severus said, “provided we can keep the bastards from attacking our working parties.”
“Is the river too wide for artillery to be effective?” Germanicus asked.
“I’m no expert, sir,” the scout said. “However, I can surmise that at maximum elevation, artillery should at least be able to have some impact on whatever forces may oppose us on the opposite bank.”
“Pilate, it sounds like you have your work cut out for you,” Severus said.
The young tribune nodded confidently. “We’ll make it happen, sir.”
“We have nearly four hundred pieces of artillery to include scorpions and onager catapults,” Germanicus observed. “I intend to use all of them to suppress the enemy. In addition, I intend to send a cavalry contingent across to harass and create a diversion.” He looked over at Chariovalda, who, in addition to being an auxiliary commander, was war leader of the allied Batavi. With him was a Roman cavalry officer named Stertinius, and a centurion primus ordo named Aemilius.
“You, my friend, will lead your cavalry across the fording site and start harassing the nearest enemy flank,” Germanicus said.
The war leader stood with his arms folded across his chest and nodded.
“Two wings of our own cavalry led by Commander Stertinius and Centurion Aemilius will cross behind you, swinging out in a wide arc and penetrating deeply into the enemy flanks. They will act, initially, as a diversion, as well as your reserve, should you get into trouble. While this is going on, Tribune Pilate will oversee placing our artillery along the western side of the river. We will keep up a sustained rate of fire with the onagers, using fire on their formations and suspected hiding places in the woods. Scorpions will be used for clear shots and will suppress the enemy archers and slingers.
“This will all provide cover for our working parties who will build eight bridges across the Weser, one for each legion. I want each one wide enough for a section to walk abreast. Once the infantry is across, artillery will form up on the bridges and cross in turn. From there we will establish a new camp and prepare for battle.”
As the meeting broke up, Germanicus motioned for Chariovalda. The Batavi leader came forward. He was a strongly built German, still maintaining his long hair, yet his face was clean shaven. He was a master horseman and was greatly respected by both his own warriors and his Roman allies. The Batavi that he led were an offshoot of the Chatti tribe. While their cousins, the Chatti, had sided with Arminius, the Batavi had remained intensely loyal to Rome. Were Germania a unified country, the conflict would have resembled a civil war as much as anything. Stertinius and Aemilius had grown rather fond of their auxiliary counterpart, and a strong bond of friendship had grown between the three men. Germanicus placed his hands on the war leader’s shoulders.
“This is a difficult and dangerous mission I am assigning to you,” he said.
Chariovalda nodded. “The honor is mine to serve underneath a leader such as yourself, Germanicus Caesar!”
“Your men are brave, but I do not want you to be careless with your lives. I know the hatred that exists between your people and the other tribes of Germania, particularly your cousins the Chatti. I only need you to engage and keep them distracted for a short time. I’m sending what cavalry we have to support you in case you run into trouble. Be careful, old friend.”
With that, Germanicus clasped the Batavi leader’s hand and then, in what many would consider a severe breach of conduct, raised his hand in salute. Chariovalda proudly returned the salute and mounted his horse, smiling all the while.
“Rome has been good to me and to my people,” he said as he turned to ride away. “I am honored to do my duty to protect her.”