“Yes, sir,” Severus replied with a grin, suspecting what Germanicus had in mind.
Artorius and his section were sitting by their fire when a signifier, whom they weren’t familiar with, walked up to them. Though all of them had dropped their body armor and equipment, this man was still fully dressed in armor and animal skins. As he drew near they noticed he was wearing a bear skin over his helmet and shoulders. This is the man who carried the standard of his unit. The honor and prestige of this position was significant.
“May I sit and join you this evening?” he asked.
“Of course, friend. Come, sit down,” Statorius said as he waved the man over. “So what brings you so far from your headquarters’ duties?”
“I only wished to get away from there for a while. It has been a long time since I was in a century on the line. While mine is a respectable position, I still miss being out front sometimes,” the signifier answered.
Statorius signaled to Gavius, whose turn it was to cook supper. Gavius grabbed a tin plate and filled it with wheat cakes and roasted meat. He handed it to the unknown signifier who readily accepted.
“Thank you, brothers,” he said as he ate.
There followed the usual fireside talk of battles won and lost and good leaders and bad as they ate.
The signifier eventually said, “I admit I am curious as to how soldiers in the ranks perceive this mission and our commander.”
“Our commander is a good man,” Praxus said. “A bit superstitious, maybe, but there is none other I would rather follow into battle.”
“True,” Statorius replied. “I have served with many commanding generals, and I have to say Germanicus is among the best I have ever seen.”
“What is it that makes him so special to you?” the signifier asked.
“He is tactically sound, and he leads from the front,” Artorius piped in. “I saw him after an engagement. A couple of infantry cohorts were more than able to handle the situation, yet there he was, taking the lead himself. I saw his sword covered in blood at the end of the battle. He is as brave as any I have ever seen.”
“There’s only one other I would rather serve under, and that is the Emperor himself,” Magnus said.
“Magnus, you weren’t even in the army when Tiberius was still in the field!” Decimus retorted.
“Still, his reputation precedes him,” the signifier replied calmly. “Tell me, do you think Germanicus learned capably from his uncle?”
“I served with Tiberius,” Praxus said. “I can tell you that both men are about equal when it comes to tactical savvy and personal courage. The only difference I could ever tell is, aside from having the advantage of experience, Tiberius seemed almost reckless when it came to his personal safety. Yet both men would willingly trade their safety for that of their men. I am truly honored to have served under them.”
“As am I,” Statorius added as he stared into the fire. They caught a hint of a smile in the signifier’s face, concealed as it was in the shadows of his garb.
“Thank you for your time and hospitality, my brothers,” he said as he rose. He handed Gavius his plate. “We shall meet again.” With that he left.
The signifier made a number of rounds to other campfires that night. Well past midnight he walked back to his tent. He saw Severus standing outside, drinking a goblet of wine.
“How did it go, Germanicus?” Severus asked. “Did you find the answers you were looking for?”
“I found them and then some,” Germanicus said as he removed the animal skins and helmet. He handed them to the soldier who was standing next to Severus, also drinking a goblet of wine.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome, sir,” the signifier answered, smiling.
Early the next morning, Artorius and Magnus were on sentry duty. As the sun broke the horizon they saw a lone rider coming towards them. He was a German, and he carried a banner of truce.
“What in Hades does this guy want?” Magnus asked.
“Rider approaching! Enemy from the looks of him!” Artorius shouted. Soon other soldiers were on the wall. Centurion Macro joined them along with their Cohort Commander, Centurion Proculus. The rider approached and stopped about thirty meters short of the rampart.
“Fellow warriors!” he shouted in perfect Latin. “I bring an offer from Arminius, Supreme War Chief of the Cherusci. He asks that you lay down your arms and walk away from your forts. For each soldier who accepts, we offer him twenty five denarii per day until the end of the war. We know the average soldier only makes two hundred and twenty-five denarii per year, so this will be a handsome gift. We will also give you a plot of land to call your own and a beautiful German wife!”
“Think it’s a ruse?” Magnus asked.
“Does it matter?” Artorius retorted. “Their wives and land are ours for the taking. Why else would they make this offer if they weren’t so close to breaking?”
“Then why don’t you let him know that?” Macro asked, nodding towards the messenger.
“Sir, Proculus is the senior officer present. Shouldn’t he be the one to parlay?”
“No, I think it would be just fine if a legionary from the ranks gave our response,” Macro answered.
Artorius cocked a half smile and turned towards the German messenger. “Tell Arminius we will take his lands and his women with or without his permission! Let daylight come, let battle be given! The soldiers will possess themselves of the lands of the Germans and will carry off their wives. We hail the omen; we mean the women and riches of the enemy to be our spoil. 1 How dare Arminius think that we would betray our own? We will ravage your lands and your wives at our leisure! All of you will burn in Hell for his betrayal, and the wailing of your women will be the last thing you hear!” With that he spat at the German, causing the rest of the soldiers on the wall to erupt in a torrent of insults and profanity.
The German hardened his face, threw down the banner of truce, and rode away.
“If that’s not a good sign of things to come, then I don’t know what is,” Magnus remarked.
“Does this mean I can actually get a piece of one of those blond beauties once this is over?” Valens asked.
This caused Macro to sigh heavily while everyone else stifled their laughter.
“Yes, Valens,” he replied, “you can have as many Germanic whores as you want, once the fighting is over.”
“High ground to our front, tree lines beyond that,” Severus observed, gazing at a terrain sketch one of the scouts had made. “No doubt they will use the terrain to build up momentum against us; then wait until we get close to the slopes, and try and roll over us with their superior numbers.”
Germanicus sat with his legs crossed and his chin in his hand, contemplating. He had an enormous army which he needed to be able to deploy rapidly. Combine that with the fact that he was horribly outnumbered with the enemy on the high ground, he had a lot to think about.
“The terrain looks wide enough for us to deploy four legions on line, with four more in reserve. This may very well work to our advantage,” he said at last.
“Yes, sir,” Severus agreed. “One thing they may attempt is to remain in the woods and fight us there. The trees would break up our formations and perhaps even the odds in their minds.”
“Then we smoke them out like vermin,” Germanicus countered. “Once we have all of our assaulting elements arrayed, we’ll pound the tree lines with artillery. They’ll either have to face us in the open or they can slowly burn to death as we torch their sacred groves. That should draw them out.”