Hunting the Eagles (15 page)

Bony Face stalked from the protection of his fellows, closing to within a dozen paces of Tullus’ men’s shields. ‘Tell your
governor
,’ he hissed, uncaring of the sword tips pointing at his heart, ‘that he had best come up with an offer that we actually
believe
. He’s got until sunset.’

‘Or what?’ demanded Tullus in a bullish tone.

‘Or I lead four legions against the principia,’ Bony Face retorted. ‘See how long you can hold out then.’

Germanicus was incandescent with rage when Tullus relayed the mutineers’ response. ‘The dog said
what
?’ Germanicus’ bellow was as loud as a centurion’s best parade roar.

Tullus repeated what he’d been told and, difficult though it was, continued to meet Germanicus’ gaze. ‘You have until sunset to give them your answer.’

‘Until sunset? I, the imperial governor, have to reply to
that
rabble? I, the emperor’s
nephew
, have to bandy words with scum who aren’t fit to polish my boots?’ Germanicus emitted a short, high-pitched laugh of disbelief. His eyes, sparking with anger, moved from Tullus to the other officers present. Most, Tubero included, were quick to drop their gaze.

‘It’s a terrible state of affairs, sir,’ ventured Caecina.

‘Jupiter on high, it’s insufferable!’ shouted Germanicus, pacing up and down. ‘Intolerable!’

No one dared answer him.

If only they had until the following morning, thought Tullus. Under the cover of darkness, he could have led a select group of men to assassinate Bony Face and the other ringleaders. While dangerous, the mission wouldn’t have been impossible. In daylight, however, it would border on suicidal. Valuing his soldiers’ lives more than anything, Tullus decided not to say a word. Germanicus was no fool; he
had
to realise that his back was to the wall.

‘What can we do?’ demanded Germanicus, his eyes still roving around the tent.

There was a sudden interest in belt buckles and the toes of men’s boots. Uneasy coughs vied with throats that were being cleared. Tullus’ pride wouldn’t let him bend his head, and he cursed inwardly as Germanicus honed in on him.

‘Do we lead an attack on the ringleaders, and cut off all the Hydra’s heads?’ Close up, Germanicus’ great height was even more pronounced. He glared down at Tullus.

‘I will if you order me to, sir,’ said Tullus in a monotone.

Germanicus scowled. ‘You don’t think it’s a good idea?’

‘We’re too few, sir. Even if we made it to wherever the ringleaders are, they would tear us apart. Like as not, the mob would then turn on the headquarters.’ Tullus wasn’t sure about the last part, but he was
not
going to offer his men up as sacrificial sheep on the altar of Germanicus’ pride.

Germanicus considered his words, and then he let out a long breath. ‘In darkness, we might have succeeded, but not during daylight.’

‘That would be my thought, sir,’ said Tullus, hiding his relief.

Germanicus stalked off, coming to a halt before Tubero. ‘It’s rare for you to be silent, legate. What have you to offer?’

Tubero puffed out his chest. ‘I’d be happy to lead an attack on the ringleaders, sir, but, as you say, it would be too dangerous.’

Germanicus made a little sound of derision and walked on. ‘Anyone else?’

Tullus’ frustration rose as no one said anything for several moments. Why should it be down to him to speak? Officers far more senior than he were present. Nephew of the emperor or no, imperial governor or no, Germanicus
had
to be told.

In the end, Caecina had the balls. ‘The way I see it, sir, we only have one option.’

Germanicus whirled around, his face taut with emotion. ‘What is that?’

‘The mutineers must be paid their money, sir,’ said Caecina. ‘In my opinion, that is the only thing they’ll accept.’

‘The
only
thing? The
only thing
?’ Germanicus’ face was purple with rage; the veins stood out on his neck.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Caecina, looking nervous.

Germanicus raised his bunched fists to the heavens and a drawn-out
Ahhhhh
of anger and frustration left his lips.

Everyone watched; no one dared speak.

‘If we are all slain, the mutiny will continue.’ Germanicus’ tone was flat. ‘Restoring order is imperative, even if it means giving into the mutineers.’

Heads nodded; voices muttered, ‘Yes, sir,’ and, ‘Agreed, sir.’ Tullus gave silent thanks to the gods.

‘I doubt that I have enough funds to pay every soldier in four legions what he’s “owed”,’ said Germanicus with a bitter laugh. His eyes moved to Caecina, and on to the legates present. ‘I shall have to ask for a loan.’

Tullus watched sidelong as the senior officers fell over themselves to offer their assistance. Germanicus won’t forget this, he thought. For an imperial governor and royal family member to have to beg financial aid of his subordinates was a humiliation of the first order.

‘Good,’ said Germanicus, a slight inclination of his head the only sign of gratitude. ‘From the sounds of it, we shall have enough coin to pacify the rapacious dogs.’ His gaze stopped on Tullus. ‘Will the legions return to their bases now?’

‘I’d wager so, sir.’

‘That’s all we need for now.’ There was a short pause, and then Germanicus added in an icy voice, ‘Justice can be served later.’

‘
GODS, HOW I
hate this shithole!’ Segestes’ voice carried, as it was meant to, some distance from the longhouse he’d been confined to since his arrival. ‘Donar take Arminius, the flea-ridden mongrel!’ Arminius, standing on the grass close by, laughed. So did Maelo and the score of his warriors who were there, stretching their muscles. It was their habit each morning to exercise and train with their spears and swords – not something most men did, but they were the cream of Arminius’ followers.

‘Do you want me to shut him up?’ called one of the men standing watch by Segestes’ door.

‘Leave him be. I like hearing his complaints,’ Arminius replied, causing more amusement. ‘They’re a constant reminder that I did the right thing. If I’d let him go to Inguiomerus, we would have four thousand fewer spears to call on in the spring.’

‘I’m sick of the sound of him.’ Thusnelda came bustling from the direction of the woods, a basket of fresh-picked mushrooms balanced on her hip. ‘You can hear his voice half a mile away.’

‘How can you say such things about your father?’ asked Arminius with mock seriousness. He dodged away from the clout she swung at him.

‘I respect my father, but I cannot abide him whingeing from dawn till dusk. Couldn’t you keep him further away?’

Arminius had been keen from the outset to have Segestes close to hand, the better to monitor the guards he’d set upon his prisoner. Despite his jokes, several days of Segestes’ unrelenting, high-volume complaints meant that he too was growing weary of his prisoner. ‘I suppose we could put him in one of the houses near the edge of the settlement. Just for you,’ he said, trying to slip an arm around Thusnelda’s waist.

She dodged away from him with surprising agility. ‘Get off! Don’t expect to lay a hand on me until it’s done.’

Arminius scowled after her, as Maelo chortled. The others were amused too, but they hid it a little better. Arminius pretended not to hear any of them. Allowing himself to be the butt of an occasional joke – thereby proving he was as human as the next man – was no bad thing. ‘How about a plate of fried mushrooms instead?’ he called out.

‘Move him first,’ came the sharp retort. A moment later, the door of their longhouse slammed.

Fresh laughter erupted from Maelo and his men, and Arminius said, ‘You heard the woman. I’m going to starve
and
suffer from a constant erection if we don’t move Segestes.’

‘Best get it done soon then,’ declared Maelo. ‘I can see the bulge in your trousers from here.’

As his men’s mirth increased further, Arminius let himself chuckle. ‘We’ll move him after we’ve trained.’

They had been exercising for some time – running circuits of the settlement, lifting great sections of tree trunk, sparring with swords – when Arminius’ attention was drawn to the path that led westward, towards the Rhenus. Small boys and girls, and the pups that followed them, were dancing about what had to be a party of visitors. How was it, he wondered, that children were always drawn to the newcomer?

It was beneath his station to go and see who had arrived. There was no need anyway, for people tended to converge on the open central area where he and his warriors were gathered. Nonetheless, Arminius’ attention strayed from the task at hand, allowing Maelo to land a couple of painful blows on him with the flat of his blade. ‘Enough!’ Arminius cried.

‘Take your eye off an enemy, and he’ll have you,’ warned Maelo with a leer.

‘Piss off,’ retorted Arminius, grimacing back. ‘I can take you any time.’ Wiping his brow with the arm of his tunic, he waited for the party to reach them. Instead of sheathing his sword, he let it dangle by his side. Innocent enough, given the training men around him, but also a veiled threat if needs be. Fifty paces off, Arminius recognised an unruly mop of blond hair that could only belong to one man he knew. Cupping a hand to his mouth, he yelled, ‘Segimundus!’

A hand was raised in acknowledgement, and Arminius grinned. ‘I haven’t seen him in years, maybe since the ambush even.’

‘A little odd that he appears so soon after we’ve imprisoned his father, don’t you think?’ muttered Maelo.

‘Don’t be so suspicious,’ chided Arminius. ‘Segimundus stands with
us
. Rallying the tribes would have been much harder without his support. Remember too what he did to Varus.’ Arminius wasn’t sure if that last detail was true – no one had seen who had mutilated the Roman general’s body – but rumour then and since had Segimundus as the perpetrator.

‘Blood runs thicker than water,’ rumbled Maelo with a frown.

‘Yet my brother Flavus and I cannot abide each other. I’d save your life before his a thousand times,’ retorted Arminius, challenge in his tone. ‘And Segimundus was with us in the forest when Segestes was nowhere to be seen, wasn’t he?’

‘Aye.’

‘Well, then. Set aside your distrust. He’ll want to visit his father, I wager, but I’m the person he’s come to speak with.’ Sliding his sword into the scabbard, Arminius took a few steps towards the approaching party. ‘Welcome, Segimundus! It has been too long.’

‘The years pass swiftly, do they not?’ Segimundus, an imposing figure in a priest’s dark green hooded robe, dismounted and came to meet Arminius, arms outstretched. They embraced.

‘It’s good to see you,’ said Arminius, pulling back to stare at Segimundus.

‘And you. Are those grey hairs I see in your beard?’

Arminius gave his chin a rueful stroke. ‘There are a few, perhaps. You’ve got the same, I see.’

‘None of us can stop the march of time.’ Segimundus made a solemn face. ‘They add to my authority, don’t you think?’

‘As if you ever needed that. Men always listen to a priest.’

‘Not so. It takes more than a green robe or, for that matter, a chieftainship to win men’s hearts and minds. You know that as well as I do.’

‘Aye, perhaps.’ Arminius smiled. ‘The timing of your visit couldn’t be better. I will need your help again in the coming months.’

‘I thought it would be useful for us to take counsel together. Is it true what they say – that Germanicus is going to wage a new campaign against us?’

‘It’s all that the legionaries talk about in the taverns and whorehouses of Vetera. Eight legions and a similar number of auxiliaries he’ll lead over the river, or so they say. What’s heartening is that there’s been a mutiny in two of the camps of recent days. Germanicus will have sorted it out before the spring, but he might not be able to rely on some of his soldiers – and that will help us.’

Segimundus’ expression remained dark. ‘Even if some of his troops are untrustworthy, he’ll have upwards of fifty thousand soldiers.’

‘I know,’ said Arminius with a grim nod. ‘If they are not to lay waste to the entire land, every tribe between here and the river will be needed for the fight. Will you help?’

‘Of course! Anything to keep Rome’s hobnailed boot from our necks.’

Arminius noticed for the first time the lines of weariness streaking Segimundus’ face. ‘Forgive me – you must be weary from your journey. Come. You will lodge with me and Thusnelda. Maelo will see to accommodation for your followers.’

‘Gratitude.’ Segimundus’ eyes cast about the settlement before returning to Arminius. ‘Word reached me that my father is also here.’

Arminius remembered Maelo’s suspicions, but could spy no trace of guile in Segimundus’ face. ‘That is true. He came a few days since, pretending he had come to see Thusnelda. In fact his purpose was to visit Inguiomerus, and to turn him against me.’

‘I’d heard that Inguiomerus had joined your cause – fine work on your part. What makes you so certain that my father planned to bring him back into Rome’s fold?’

‘He told me as much,’ Arminius replied with a snort. ‘As you know, Inguiomerus is a tricky customer. It’s taken years for him to shift allegiances. I am not about to let my hard work be undone by your father. Segestes has been my captive since, but every comfort has been provided for him, never fear.’