Steve looked at Gene in surprise. He definitely had the feeling that Vicinius knew more about the Romans than he was telling. Gene merely shrugged.
The trail wound down the mountain slope. The Weser was often visible through the trees below. Steve could see birds in the trees, but he only heard small animals fleeing from them in the underbrush.
They had almost reached the edge of the forest down in the river valley when Vicinius stopped abruptly again. This time he pointed to the ground. Steve hurried forward, hoping to see the small footprints of MC 3. Instead, he found animal tracks in the soft ground.
“Wild boar tracks,” said Gene.
“Yes,” said Vicinius. “They are a challenge to hunt and kill, but the meat is very fine.” He grinned. “And the tracks are fresh.”
“How can you tell?” Jane asked.
“The shape is very clear, meaning that the drizzle hasn’t had time to blur the edges,” said Steve.
“It is very near,” said Hunter. Vicinius looked at him in surprise. “I see no immediate sign of it.”
“I hear it digging in the soil,” said Hunter. “It has not noticed us yet.”
“They have no fear,” said Vicinius, still looking at Hunter. “Your hearing must be very good.”
“We have no experience as hunters,” said Hunter. “We shall remain here out of danger if you wish to pursue it.”
Vicinius nodded, adjusting his grip on his spear. He crept off the trail into the brush, following the tracks. Even Steve could see the trail of trampled weeds and broken branches the boar had left.
“What if it hurts him?” Gene asked Hunter. “He wouldn’t have found these tracks if he hadn’t been taking us down to the river. Haven’t we altered his plans?”
“Yes,” said Hunter. “Stay here.” He followed Vicinius, also moving quietly and hefting his spear into position to throw it if necessary.
“It’s a difficult choice for him,” said Jane. “Ordinarily, the First Law tells him not to change history-if a boar is going to injure Vicinius, he should allow it. But if we’re responsible for creating the danger, the First Law is open to some interpretation about what he has to do.”
Suddenly a loud snorting reached them, and Vicinius whooped, taunting his prey. Steve heard the snapping of twigs, branches, and underbrush. Gene hurried after Hunter.
“Watch it!” Steve yelled, following him into the trees off the trail.
Jane joined him.
The boar had trampled a small clearing for itself a short distance in front of Hunter and Vicinius. It looked huge to Steve; he had never seen a wild boar, and this one was at least as big as the biggest modem hog he had ever seen. This boar, however, was a shaggy dark brown instead of pink, and it sported long, curved tusks curling forward from its face. With fast-moving eyes, it warily watched its tormentors.
6
Vicinius slowly and carefully crept to his right, his spear held high. Hunter stood motionless, his spear also ready to throw. The boar made a snuffling sound and feinted, but did not charge.
Gene paused a safe distance behind Hunter.
“Do not participate,” Hunter said over his shoulder. “Please back away.”
Gene moved back and stepped behind a large tree.
“Come on.” Steve took Jane’s arm in his free hand and pulled her back out of sight. “Hunter will take care of them.”
“I didn’t doubt it,” said Jane, in an annoyed tone. “But we could watch.”
“I don’t want Hunter to argue with me. This is our chance, while the First Law has him occupied. Let’s go.” Still pulling her arm, he started back up the trail.
“Stop it!” She yanked her arm free. “Are you crazy? Splitting up just gets us all into more trouble. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
Behind them, Vicinius was still whooping and calling the boar, teasing it.
“What if MC 3 is with the Romans? They aren’t far. We saw them on this side of the river. And we both know that Hunter will just give me an argument. Vicinius probably won’t want to visit them and Hunter can’t just abandon him. So we should go, while Hunter’s busy.”
“I can’t believe you want to do this, after all the trouble we’ve had before.”
“I don’t have time to argue. You coming or not?”
“No.” She glared at him with her clear blue eyes, challenging him.
“See you later.” Steve turned and hurried on down the trail. He would walk along the river until he could see either the Roman legionaries or their camp.
“Steve!”
“Yeah?” He turned to look.
“All right, I’m coming.” She hurried up alongside him, her fur cloak swirling. “But I want one promise from you.”
“What is it?”
“After we get away, we’ll radio Hunter and tell him we’re okay.”
“I don’t want to-”
“Or else I’ll yell to him right now.”
“All right.” Steve couldn’t help grinning. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Vicinius was still baiting the boar with his calls and shouts. That meant Hunter’s attention was still riveted by the First Law imperative. Gene had not noticed Steve and Jane’s departure, either. They hurried down the trail.
They reached the edge of the forest quickly. Steve turned to his right and started hiking along the edge of the trees. Jane kept up, looking behind them every so often. They couldn’t hear anything.
“If Hunter had noticed that we left, he would have yelled or something,” said Steve. He looked at the river, which looked narrow and calm under the gray sky. “I’ll bet it’s running real fast, up in the mountains like this.”
Steve and Jane kept up a good pace. Light rain began to fall again and they moved under the canopy of trees, pulling their cloaks tight around them. They had heard no sign of Hunter.
“This should be far enough,” said Jane, stopping. “Let’s radio him.”
“All right.” Steve halted and switched on the radio in the small pin on his cloak. “Hunter, this is Steve.”
“Steve, I have been calling you and Jane,” Hunter said promptly. “Is she with you?”
“Yes. We hadn’t turned on our radios. How are Vicinius and the wild boar?”
“Vicinius killed it. What happened to you?”
“We’re fine, Hunter. I want to go see if MC 3 is with the Romans and I knew Vicinius wouldn’t want to go. We’re going, Hunter.”
“We should remain together.”
“Sorry, Hunter. We’ll contact you again later. Maybe we’ll have MC 3 with us when we do.” Steve shut off his communicator again, so that Hunter could not argue with him.
“He could follow us,” said Jane. “We’ve left a real easy trail in this damp ground.”
“He might,” Steve said slowly. “Hard to say. Certainly we can’t outrun him if he wants to join us.”
“He won’t want to leave Gene behind,” she pointed out. “He can’t go faster than Gene.”
“Good point. And Vicinius will want to get the boar back to his village. He can’t carry it alone and Hunter won’t reveal that he can, either.”
“Can they carry it together? All three of them?”
“Maybe. If they do, that will delay them for a long…” He was interrupted by the sound of a horn. It came from the direction where the boar had been.
“What was that?” Jane jumped in surprise.
“Vicinius’s horn,” said Steve. “The one he’s been carrying on a strap.”
“What’s he doing? Calling his warriors?”
“I guess so. Or maybe the women of the village and the older men, too. They could bring a pack animal for the boar.”
“Does that mean Hunter is free to follow us?”
“Maybe. But let’s just go and see if he catches up to us or not.” Steve started walking again.
“I just don’t want to do what Rita did to us on the last mission, when we had to spend all our time trying to find her instead of
looking for MC 2.”
“We aren’t doing anything like that,” Steve said testily. “Come on, Jane. She was just out seeing the sights, adventuring on her own. You and I are looking for MC 3 and we’re still in touch with Hunter.”
“Well, we can’t risk changing history, either. We’ll have to be more careful than usual without Hunter around to remind us.”
“Even Hunter has changed his mind, remember? Back in the dinosaur age, he thought that almost any action could change the future drastically. That hasn’t proved out at all.” He looked at her, blinking drizzle out of his eyes.
“Yes, I know.” Her tone told him that she had run out of arguments, whether she was convinced or not.
Soon, up ahead on a nearby slope above them, Steve could see part of the twisting mountain road that the Romans were using. The wooden palisade of the Roman camp was visible on a ridge and the last of their wagons was just driving through the open gate. Getting to the road would require a tough hike, but at least their route was clear.
In the middle of the afternoon, under a light drizzle, Marcus Gaius Aemilianus had just finished supervising the unloading of the wagons inside the Roman camp when he heard a voice calling to him.
“Tribune! Over here, Tribune!” One of the sentries standing at the gate was waving his arm. The gate was open very slightly. “We have visitors.”
Marcus frowned. Unexpected visits from the Germans here were rare. However, this was his first assignment as a tribune and finding out what they wanted was one of his duties.
Mid afternoon was late in the day for traders. They usually finished their business in time to return home before sundown. Puzzled, he turned, causing his red cloak to swirl behind him, and walked quickly to the gate.
“What is it, Flavius?” Marcus asked.
“This lady is from a trading family in Gaul,” said Flavius, indicating a woman with long, straight brown hair standing in a fur cloak just outside the opening in the gate. “She has become separated from her party and seeks shelter.”
“Good day,” said Marcus. “I am Marcus Aemilianus, tribune and personal aide to Governor Publius Quinctilius Varus of this province. You must be in need of shelter.”
“Yes, we are.” She spoke Latin with an odd accent. “I am Jane Maynard and this is my slave, Steve.”
“You are welcome, of course.” Marcus stood back and gestured for her to enter. He had expected to see her slave carrying baggage of some sort. Flavius closed the gate behind the two visitors. “You have no belongings with you?”
“No. We, um, were out looking for another friend of ours and got lost. So when we saw you up here, we decided to ask for your help.”
“I am glad to be of service. In this new province, taking care of civilians is a serious duty for those of us in the Roman army. Come inside with me, out of this constant drizzle.” He began to walk with them, back toward the officers’ tent.
He took another glance at her slave. “Where are you from? Not Egypt?”
“No,” said Steve, with an easy grin as he walked a step behind Jane. “From a distant land called ‘Sina.’ “
“Sina.” Marcus shook his head.
“Have you seen any other strangers?” Jane asked. “I mean, neither German nor Roman.”
“This would be the other friend you were seeking?”
“Yes.”
Marcus shook his head. “No. But sit down with me and I will have wine warmed for us. You may describe him to me.”
Hunter only told Vicinius and Gene that Steve and Jane had gone ahead, without elaborating. However, he had lost several hours by the time the villagers came to fetch the boar that Vicinius had killed. Vicinius blew his horn at intervals to make sure they could follow the sound. Then, while they waited, Vicinius set to work cleaning and quartering the boar. Hunter and Gene helped, taking direction from Vicinius.
Finally, several of the older men arrived with two old packhorses. Vicinius arranged for the quarters of the boar to be lashed to the horses. Then, at last, he turned to Hunter with a big smile.
“That boar will feed the village for days. My friends who were with me yesterday will wish they had been free today, instead.”
“It was a very dangerous quarry,” said Hunter. “You are indeed an excellent hunter. Are we ready to continue on our way?”
“Of course,” said Vicinius cheerfully. “We will go along the river.” He picked up his spear and slipped past Hunter. “Come on.”
Hunter and Gene followed him. When they reached the edge of the trees, Vicinius ignored Steve and Jane’s footprints, which turned to the right in the soft earth. Instead, he marched straight out across the narrow flood plain to the edge of the rushing water.
“I would like to rejoin Steve and Jane,” Hunter said courteously, coming up alongside Vicinius.
“This is where the footprints of your other friend will be,” said Vicinius. “Along the water. But if he approached the river from upstream, then Steve and Jane might cross his tracks coming or going from the forest. We must move downstream to look for his tracks there.”
“I am concerned about Steve and Jane,” said Hunter. “Our party should be together.”
Vicinius turned to look upstream in the distance. The wind blew his long, shaggy hair from his face. “The Romans are nearby. If you wish, I will search downstream for you and sound my horn if I find any sign of your friend.”
“Maybe we can go downstream for a little while,” said Gene. “We have a lot of daylight left. We can go after Steve and Jane later.”
“Agreed,” said Hunter. He felt some internal stress from the First Law, but Steve and Jane seemed safe for the time being.
Vicinius moved down the bank quickly, hopping from rock to rock, over exposed tree roots. He wasted no time, glancing quickly at the mud or soft sod near the water. Hunter had no trouble keeping up, of course, but he repeatedly waited for Gene to find his way over the rough ground.
Over their heads, Hunter saw the sun only as a slight glow behind the gray clouds. Hunter calculated how much time they would have to reverse direction, catch up to Steve and Jane, and return to the village. After more than an hour had passed, they had seen animal tracks leading to the water but no human’s tracks.
“I have found something,” Vicinius said suddenly. He crouched near the edge of the water.
Hunter stood over him, magnifying his vision to examine the details of several partial footprints.
“They are unusually small,” said Vicinius. “And he is barefoot. This matches what you told me.”
“Yes,” said Hunter, as he identified the footprints. “These are the footprints of MC 3.”
“Really?” Gene leaned down to take a good look, leaning on his spear.
“He’s moving downstream,” said Vicinius, standing up. “Come on.”
“What about Steve and Jane?” Gene asked.
Hunter looked at the sun again. “If we are going to catch up to Steve and Jane in time to return to the village together, we have to reverse direction now.”
Vicinius looked at him in surprise, waiting.
“What do you want to do?” Gene asked.
“The footprints are sharp and clear,” Hunter continued. “MC 3 made them earlier today, since the intermittent drizzle has not had time to dull their edges or wash them away.”
“Yes, of course,” said Vicinius.
“We shall catch MC 3 first,” said Hunter. Finding MC 3 was a more pressing First Law problem than rejoining Steve and Jane, who appeared to be in no particular danger. He followed Vicinius, and signaled Steve and Jane on his internal transmitter. They did not answer.
7
Wayne lay on the ground in the German village in the drizzle. The previous night, he had been grabbed by the villagers amid a great deal of shouting and arguing and roughly dragged back to the middle of the village. In the midst of all the yelling, he had only made out two words. One tall, hulking young man was named “Arminius” and seemed to be in charge. He
called out to a slender, wiry young man named “Julius” and then walked away from the crowd of villagers around Wayne, uninterested.
When they had realized that Wayne could not understand any of what they were saying, Julius yanked his arms around a tree trunk, then lashed his wrists together with rawhide thongs. Leaving him out in the rain and cold, the villagers had gone to bed in their huts.
The village dogs barked at Wayne and sniffed around him at first, but soon lost interest. He had not slept, exactly, but he had dozed from exhaustion even as he shivered. The next morning, in the early dawn light, he discovered that he had been lashed to a tree trunk next to the village refuse heap. Only the cold kept down the smell of rotting waste.
Most of the villagers had ignored him as they went about their morning routine. Julius and a few of the other warriors had given him a curious glance, but no more. Some of the children had poked him with sticks to see what he would do, but they, too, had lost interest when he had just stared at them.
Afterward Wayne had spent most of the day quietly straining at the leather thongs. He had quickly noticed that the untanned leather binding his wrists was absorbing the steady drizzle that was falling. When he pulled, no matter how much it hurt his wrists, the thongs stretched slightly. The more they stretched, the thinner they became, and he gently rubbed them against the rough tree trunk in a sawing motion. The rawhide thongs were much weaker than finished leather.
He had given up any hope of escaping the village by running away. All he wanted to do was reach the control unit on his belt. To survive, he would have to risk going back to Room F-12 in his own time.
As the gray, overcast day slowly darkened into evening, Jane sat primly on a rough wooden bench in the governor’s tent. With an amused smirk, Steve was standing attentively behind her against the wall of the tent. Demetrius, the governor’s elderly personal Greek slave, who had served dinner, stood behind the governor and Steve had decided to imitate him.
Governor Publius Quinctilius Varus was hosting her as the guest of Marcus, his aide. The other Roman officers were eating in a separate tent. Steve, as Jane’s personal slave, was expected to remain in her company.
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