by Alex Gough
A haunted look had clouded over Eustachys’ face, and something in that expression told Atius not to probe further. He fell silent.
But Eustachys spoke.
‘Maybe you’re right.’
Atius waited, as Eustachys looked to be wrestling with a decision.
‘The loss of our guide is a bad enough blow to our chances of success, but to know that the guide was betraying our location to the Germans means it is even less likely we will make it. Perhaps you have the best chance on your own, in terms of both speed and stealth.’
‘I think I do.’
Eustachys nodded, his mind apparently made up. ‘Very well, listen.’
Martius 213 AD
Silus had used the chamber pot, splashed water on his face, and was dressed and ready to leave before the sun had appeared over the horizon. He waited impatiently in the atrium for Odo, but it was Ada who appeared first, and insisted that he breakfast with the family.
‘You will travel further and faster with food in your belly, believe me,’ she said. ‘Come.’
Reluctantly, Silus allowed himself to be led into a small family room, where the slave girls brought water, bread and olives. The rest of the family soon arrived, arranging themselves on benches around the room.
‘It’s been a privilege and a pleasure to have you in my house,’ said Boda.
‘You have been the perfect house guest,’ said Ada.
Silus steadfastly kept his gaze averted from Ima, though he could see in his peripheral vision that the girl had her eyes fixed on him, the corners of her mouth upturned. Odo seemed oblivious to his sister’s attention, but the ever perceptive Ada looked between Ima and Silus, and when she was sure no one was looking, gave Silus a wink.
Silus flushed, opened his mouth, closed it again and looked down.
‘Now I know you can’t tell me what you are doing or where you are going,’ said Boda. ‘But promise me you will look after my son.’
‘I can look after myself, father,’ said Odo.
‘He thinks he can look after himself,’ said Boda. ‘And to some extent that is true. But he can be headstrong, and he lacks experience of life. Please take care of him, Silus.’
‘I will,’ said Silus, wondering if he would really be able to keep that promise.
He finished the small meal hastily, and rose.
‘Odo, we have a lot of ground to cover. Let’s be on our way and leave your family in peace.’
The whole household, slaves, dogs and all, came to wave them goodbye. Ada embraced both of them tearfully, entreating them to be careful. Boda shook Silus’ hand warmly, clapping him on the shoulder. Ewald also offered his hand, and shook it as firmly as a boy of his years could. Ima merely looked up at him from lowered lids, her head tilted downward. He felt himself flushing again.
‘Thank you so much for your hospitality. I hope we will meet again. Until then, I will do everything in my power to keep Odo safe.’
He turned, and marched back down the track, sure he wasn’t imagining Ima’s eyes burning into his back.
Chapter Six
Martius 213 AD
Two more days of travelling was enough to leave the semi-civilised parts of Germania Magna behind them. The change was barely perceptible hour by hour, but if he compared the settlements with those half a day back, Silus could see the difference. More wood, less stone. The inhabitants’ clothing rougher, plainer. The further they travelled from the border with the Roman provinces of Germania Inferior and Superior, the less the influence of the Empire could be felt.
It was a situation that was to some extent familiar to Silus from growing up and fighting in northern Britannia, but the contrast was even more pronounced. The Germans who inhabited the area around the Rhenus had been in close contact with the Romans for more than two hundred and fifty years, since Caesar had conquered Gaul and Germania Superior. Britannia, separated by the sea from the Roman Empire and unconquered until a hundred years after Caesar’s first expeditions there, had little Roman influence beyond the south-east of the island, and the people of the north of the province kept much more of their own identity than the people of the Roman German provinces.
Seeing how much Odo’s family had wanted to appear Roman had impacted Silus deeply. His experience in Britannia and Caledonia had taught him that all barbarians hated Rome, and only ever allied with them for strategic purposes. Now he realised that some admired Rome, felt affection for it, saw its benefits, and wished to copy its methods, its customs and even its fashions.
It made his worldview more complicated than he had any desire for it to be. Romans good, barbarians bad. He was pretty sure that was how Atius viewed it, and there was a lot to be said for that degree of simplicity.
The thought of Atius made his guts clench, and he prayed to Mithras, Christos, Jupiter and any other god he could think of for his friend to be safe. Though he didn’t really believe the gods would intercede. Either Atius was alive or he wasn’t. And if he was alive, then it was down to Silus to save him, and no one else.
Silus had lifted his injunction regarding chatting as they travelled. Odo had shown generosity by offering Silus the hospitality of his family, and it was hard to be churlish in the face of that. What was more, he had slept with Odo’s sister. As much as he tried to tell himself that it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t realised, he couldn’t help the nagging guilty feeling that he had abused Odo’s trust. Thank all the gods that Odo didn’t know. That would have made the journey just too awkward.
So Silus forced himself to make small talk, mainly because long silences intensified his guilt.
‘Why did you volunteer to help Rome?’ he asked as they walked along a narrow raised track with sodden marshland either side. It was terrain like this that had meant they couldn’t use horses, and much as Silus disliked riding, he would have put up with it to speed up the journey through this foreign territory. The further they got from the border, the less familiar and the more hostile it all felt.
‘I hadn’t really thought about it. I had just returned from a year with my mother’s kinsfolk. They had taught me hunting, tracking, foraging, all the skills needed for survival. As well as how to use a sword and a bow, of course. And their priests had taught me Latin letters, numbers and logic.’
‘Which tribe did your mother’s kinsfolk belong to?’
‘Alamanni, like my father. Her kin were descended from the Marcomanni, but they separated from the main part of that tribe after its defeat by your Emperor Marcus Aurelius. They have a reputation not only for cunning in battle, but also for an appreciation of culture, art and learning. Things the northern and eastern tribes have no time for.
‘I had gone there intending to return as a fully trained warrior, ready to join the Alamanni warbands. My father on the other hand wanted me to stay at home and farm with him. But I had done a lot of thinking and learning while I was away. You see how my mother and sister love all things Roman, but they don’t really understand it. They are like children dressing up in their parents’ clothes for a game.
‘I lived in my father’s home, reading, practising with the sword and bow, going on hunting trips in the forest for days on end where I could be alone and think. And then one day a Roman came to visit. He was recruiting for the legions.’
‘I’ve met many Germans in the army,’ said Silus. ‘Some from conquered tribes that are now part of the Roman provinces. Some from Germania Magna who have joined up for money, or to flee their homeland because of crimes, or just for adventure and travel.’
Odo nodded. ‘Travel, adventure. They caught my imagination. We talked, this Roman recruiter and I, and he must have seen something in me. He told me to go to Colonia. But instead of sending me to the legionary headquarters to join up, he told me to report to Oclatinius with his compliments.’
‘I know how that works. Then he took you under his wing, trained you?’
‘He did. He said he wants me as a scout for special missions. And he told me about the Arc
ani, and said that if I proved my ability and loyalty, maybe I would become an Arcanus one day.’ He looked across at Silus. ‘Like you.’
So Oclatinius hadn’t held back with this young barbarian. Silus wondered briefly, with an irrational surge of jealousy, whether Odo knew the details of the mission Atius had been on. But he quickly dismissed that as absurd. Why would Oclatinius trust this German and not Silus? Get a grip, Silus. Odo isn’t Oclatinius’ new, younger lover, replacing you in his affections. And since when did you care what Oclatinius thought or did anyway?
‘And how many missions have you been on for Oclatinius so far?’
‘Including this one? One.’
How did I know that was going to be the answer? thought Silus. That irritating old man. But Odo’s disarming grin made Silus smile back at him.
‘Well, get us where we need to be, do as I say, and keep out of trouble. I told your mother I would bring you home safe.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Odo gave Silus a lightly mocking salute. Silus gave a small tut and turned his attention back to the road.
* * *
They were a long way from the Empire now. Odo led them through forest trails, goat tracks around hillsides, open fields and malodorous marshland. He was clearly at ease in this terrain, and knew it well. He explained to Silus that he had travelled far and wide in his time with his mother’s kin – it was one of the main reasons Oclatinius had selected him to accompany Silus.
They kept well away from any travellers they saw if they could, but once they encountered a group of four warriors. Young men, about Odo’s age, with painted faces, all bearing spears and bows. They were on open ground, a track through a field of vegetables of some sort, with nowhere to hide or to run to. Silus didn’t fancy their chances in a fight. He could hold his own against superior numbers in hand-to-hand fighting, but skill with a sword and dirty tricks meant nothing when you were facing down archers with arrows trained on your breastbone.
The warriors approached, with all the cocky assurance of youth. Their language was harsh, throaty, and Silus had no idea what they were saying. Odo spoke to them calmly, and translated into Latin for Silus.
‘They are Chatti, and they want to know what we are doing in their lands. I told them you are a trader and I am your guide. They want to know what you have to sell.’
‘Tell them if they have coin I am more than happy to trade with them.’
Odo translated and the young men looked at each other and let out low mocking laughs. Their leader, the biggest of the four, well-built despite not yet being in his prime, sporting a long, fat nose, slapped Silus across the shoulder with the back of his hand and pointed to Silus’ pack, giving a gruff, incomprehensible order.
‘He wants you to show him your pack,’ said Odo.
Silus took the pack off his shoulders and began to open it, but Big Nose grabbed it from him and upended it, so its contents spilled onto the ground. Silus protested, but the warrior shoved him hard, so he had to wave his hands to avoid falling on his backside. The others laughed, then rooted through his belongings.
There wasn’t much to see. Some cheese, smoked meat, bread and water. A couple of copper and amber necklaces and bracelets, two small cooking pots, some spoons and some statuettes carved in bone. Whatever he had been able to find cheaply in the market in Colonia before he left. Big Nose sifted through it with his boot, leant down to pick up the bracelet, then tossed it aside. He muttered something to Odo.
‘Is this it?’ Odo translated.
Silus shrugged in what he hoped was an open and placating manner. He really didn’t want to provoke these arrogant little shits. Even if he killed them all, their comrades or family would soon come looking for them, and that was trouble he didn’t need.
Big Nose then pointed at Silus’ sword and spoke. Odo’s translation was redundant. ‘He wants to see your sword.’
Silus had purposefully kept his blade sheathed and his hand well away from the hilt. Now he slowly took a grip and drew it out carefully. The three warriors behind Big Nose watched closely, two gripping their spears more tightly, the other taking an arrow from his quiver and nocking it, holding the string loose and pointed at the ground, but able to be drawn in an instant.
Silus held his sword by the hilt, between thumb and two fingers, so it dangled with the point towards the ground, swinging gently to and fro. Big Nose growled a command.
‘He says give it to him.’
Silus frowned, and looked into Big Nose’s eyes. He could see the young warrior wanted to keep his sword, and that wasn’t something he could allow to happen. Even if after disarming him, these young barbarians left him alive, how could he complete his mission weaponless? He took in the positions of the other three warriors, their alertness and readiness.
He flicked the sword up, twisting the grip so the point swept in a swift arc upwards. He let go, snatched the sword out of the air when it hit vertical, and swept it downwards in one clean movement so its edge rested against the big vein at the side of the warrior’s neck. Purposefully, he let the blade dig into the skin, slicing shallowly so blood oozed along the edge to the guard, from where a single drop fell to the muddy ground.
The three warriors fumbled for their weapons, two raising their spears, though the shocked archer fumbled his arrow, dropped it, and had to pull another from his quiver before he could draw his bow. Big Nose, conversely, stayed as still as a statue, only his eyes moving, flicking down to his left in a vain attempt to see the sword that had cut him. Slowly, he raised his hand to warn his comrades to hold.
‘Tell him I said no,’ said Silus.
Odo translated into German, unable to keep a smile from his face or his tone.
Stupid boy, thought Silus. This is not a game.
‘What now?’ whispered Odo.
‘Tell him to command his men to drop their weapons.’
Odo did so, and after a moment’s hesitation, Big Nose did as he was told. After a brief show of reluctance, the warriors dropped their spears and bows to the ground.
‘Now tell him that I could cut his throat this instant, if I desired. But if he gives me his word that he will let us pass unharmed, I will sheath my sword and walk away.’
Silus watched Big Nose’s eyes as the German words reached his ears. He saw anger and pride war with fear. Then he saw acceptance win out, in the slightest slump of his shoulders.
‘He swears,’ said Odo.
Silus kept his blade there just a moment longer, and held Big Nose’s gaze. Then he pulled the blade away, sheathed it in one smooth motion and stepped back.
Big Nose clapped his hand to his neck, took it away and looked at the blood on his palm, then glared at Silus. The other warriors scrambled to pick up their weapons, and to step forward menacingly, spears horizontal, arrow nocked and bowstring drawn tight. Silus kept his blade unsheathed, pointed downwards, but ready to be whipped up and into action. Big Nose locked eyes with him, then shook his head and spat. He growled some angry words.
‘He says you are no trader,’ said Odo.
Silus shrugged. ‘Pick up my wares and put them back in my pack, Odo.’
Odo obeyed, getting to his hands and knees to refill the pack. When he was finished he got back to his feet and stood beside Silus, waiting for instructions.
‘Time to go,’ said Silus. He gave a little bow to Big Nose, and then began to walk through the other warriors, who parted for him reluctantly. Odo followed in his wake like a lap dog. Silus’ heart raced as they walked away, their exposed backs to the warriors. He wondered if he had judged right, that these youths were honourable men, not bandits.
Big Nose shouted after him. Silus didn’t turn, just whispered to Odo out of the corner his mouth. ‘What did he say?’
Odo whispered back. ‘He said to watch yourself in these parts.’
‘It’s kind of him to care.’
‘I think it was more of a threat.’
‘I did understand, Odo.’
* * *
; As soon as they were out of sight, they left the track and headed off into the countryside. The young Chatti tribesmen may have kept their word to let them leave unimpeded, but their compatriots would be under no such obligation, nor had he told the Chatti to keep their encounter secret – Silus knew that would have been a promise too far.
So they spent a short while laying a false trail along the track, then doubled back and headed up the stony slope of a small hill. From the top, Silus had a decent view for a number of miles in all directions, and he paused to get his breath back from the climb, pressing his hands into the aching small of his back.
‘How far do you reckon?’ he asked.
Odo pointed to a row of hills a number of miles in the distance. ‘A little way beyond there is where the Teutoburg forest begins.’
‘Not far to their destination, then,’ mused Silus. ‘And no sign of them yet.’
‘Did you expect there to be?’
‘Not really,’ said Silus. He took a swig of water from his flask, went to stopper it, then instead offered it to Odo. Odo accepted it gratefully and drank, then passed it back.
‘But it’s frustrating. It’s impossible to track someone after this amount of time has passed. Especially with the snow and rain since they came this way.’
‘Not many hunters know where their prey is going,’ commented Odo.
‘True. But we don’t even know how far they got. Or which of them is alive, if any.’
‘We know at least two were captured.’
‘That is pretty shaky intelligence, to my mind. Oclatinius wouldn’t send me on a mission this flaky if the stakes weren’t so high.’ He shook his head. ‘We’re going to have to ask the natives what they know, aren’t we?’