Germania (Veteran of Rome Book 5)

by William Kelso

  ‘He won’t care,’ Fergus said harshly. ‘His main concern is maintaining discipline, especially as we are about to march off to war. He may punish us all just as an example to the others.’

  ‘Fergus is right,’ Aledus interrupted. ‘We have no choice. Tiber may be acting like a fool but he is still part of the squad, one of us, and so we need to find him before the dawn roll call.’

  Around Fergus the others nodded in silent agreement.

  ‘But how?’ Catinius blurted out glaring at the men around him. ‘Have you forgotten. There is a curfew in place. None of us are allowed to leave the camp. You all heard the announcement. The Germans are celebrating a religious festival in the civilian town tonight. No Roman soldier is to leave the fortress. Those are the orders. How can we look for him if we are not allowed out?’

  Fergus turned to glance at the stone walls of the legionary fortress.

  ‘We have no choice,’ he muttered. ‘We’ll have to risk it and we don’t have much time.’ Fergus turned to his men in a conspiratorial manner. ‘Aledus and I will go over the wall and search for Tiber in the town,’ he said quietly. ‘Maybe he is holed up in one of the taverns or whorehouses or maybe he is down in the river harbour, trying to sneak aboard one of the ships. Catinius and Vittius, you will search the camp. Check the baths, the stables, the gambling and drinking den’s and anywhere else you can think of. The rest of you will remain here in case Tiber returns on his own accord.’

  ‘How will you get over the wall without being seen?’ Catinius said unhappily.

  ‘There is a section of the wall, facing the river,’ Aledus replied quickly, his eyes shining with sudden excitement. ‘The guards on this part of the wall are not very attentive. They are lazy and don’t always walk the full length of the wall. If we had a sturdy rope, with the darkness to protect us, we could be up and over the wall without anyone seeing us.’

  ‘And how will you get back inside,’ Catinius snapped. ‘And what happens if you are spotted in town or if Tiber has already left Bonna?’

  ‘Oh you do always have to bring up all the negatives, don’t you,’ Aledus snapped in irritation as he rounded on Catinius.

  Catinius was about to retort when Fergus grasped him by the shoulder.

  ‘We’ll climb back up over the wall and we won’t be spotted,’ Fergus said sharply. ‘And if Tiber has already left Bonna, well then there is nothing more we can do. It will be too late and he’ll be gone and that will be that. But we need to make sure. There is a possibility he hasn’t gone far.’

  ‘I have a rope,’ Vittius exclaimed helpfully.

  ***

  In the darkness, the patter of the rain was loud and constant and for once Fergus was grateful for the weather. He crouched on the stone rampart peering into the gloom. The guards on this section of the wall seemed to have taken shelter near the watch tower and all seemed peaceful and quiet apart from the occasional drunken, cry coming from the civilian settlement to the south, the rain and the blast of a hunting horn. Wiping away the rainwater that plastered his face, Fergus turned to stare at the silver-coloured Rhine which was just visible in the pale moonlight, two hundred yards away. It was the first time he’d had a proper look at the Rhine. The mighty river was placid and wide and he could not see the eastern bank. So, this was where the Empire ended he thought, this was the frontier. Beyond lived the unconquered free German tribes in their endless forests and marshes that were said to stretch to the very edge of the world. The few men from the First Legion with whom he’d spoken, had described the eastern bank as an unfriendly place full of stinking Germans who refused to wash and who one could never fully trust. They were best left alone to sulk in their hovels in the ground the legionaries of the First had added.

  ‘Ready,’ Aledus whispered, as he gave the rope, which he’d tied to the battlements, a sharp tug. Then before Fergus could say anything Aledus clambered over the side of the wall and quickly vanished into the darkness. Fergus turned to look in the direction of the watchtower as he waited. But there was no alarm. The sentries had not seen them. With a grunt, he grasped hold of the rope, slithered over the side and began to lower himself to the ground. The rope creaked and groaned under his weight but it held. As he reached the bottom, he slipped and slid awkwardly down into the deep muddy V shaped ditch, ending up on his back in a puddle of dirty water. Cursing softly Fergus picked himself up and on all fours clambered out of the ditch. Nearby Aledus was crouching in the gloom, staring out across the marshy, reed-infested ground that separated the legionary fortress from the river.

  ‘So what now?’ Aledus whispered.

  ‘We’ll start with the taverns and whorehouses,’ Fergus said softly. ‘And if he isn’t there we will check the harbour. Come on, let’s go.’

  As Fergus and Aledus approached the outskirts of Bonna, the settlement which lay just to the south of Castra Bonnensis, the dark German long-houses made of oak and roofed with straw, hove into view in the pale moonlight, clustered around the main Roman road in an unplanned, chaotic fashion. Revellers were everywhere, staggering about in drunken stupor, pissing beside the road, singing, vomiting, wrestling with each other or lying comatose in the mud. From the barbarian huts Fergus could hear the noise of feasting, screams, laughter, barking dogs and excited cries. The Germans were loud, brash and pissed and Fergus suddenly understood why the authorities had imposed a curfew on the Roman soldiers.

  ‘They sure like a party,’ Aledus muttered quietly, as the two of them moved on down the road and passed the drunken and rowdy town’s folk.

  ‘The local farmers must have come into town from the countryside to celebrate the festival of their gods. Be on your guard,’ Fergus replied warily.

  The centre of Bonna was built up around the main Roman road that followed the Rhine southwards to the legionary fortress at Castra Mogontiacum, Mainz, a hundred miles away. As he caught sight of the familiar looking Roman terraced, stone, houses, with their smart, red-roof tiles, Fergus heaved a sigh of relief. The narrow, but long Roman strip-houses flanked the main street, their shops and workshops shut and locked up for the night, but even here the Germans swarmed across the street, leaning out of doorways, shouting, drinking and singing whilst others, clutching flasks of beer and wine, appeared out of the side streets that petered off into the darkness. The language of the locals was harsh and guttural. Marcus would have been familiar with the language from serving in his Batavian Cohort, Fergus thought, but he himself couldn’t understand a word of what was being said.

  ‘What did Titus want with you today?’ Aledus hissed as the two of them headed on deeper into the town.

  ‘There have been allegations made against me,’ Fergus muttered as he strode along keeping a wary eye on the people around them. ‘Someone in the company is saying that I am not a Roman citizen and that I faked by letter of recommendation. It’s Fronto,’ Fergus growled sourly. ‘I am sure that he is behind this. Titus has been forced to report the matter up the chain of command and now this lawyer has got involved.’

  ‘No, shit,’ Aledus murmured in horror. ‘How did Fronto find out? How is it possible he could know about that?’

  ‘Yes, that’s a good question,’ Fergus snapped, turning sharply to look at Aledus, ‘Only you, Catinius, Vittius and Galena know the truth.’

  ‘I have not said a word to anyone,’ Aledus protested as his cheeks turned red. ‘I swear it Fergus, on my cock and my honour.’

  ‘Alright, I believe you,” Fergus said. Then slowly he shook his head. “Do you believe that this lawyer tried to get me to perform sexual favours in return for dropping the investigation?’

  ‘That’s illegal,’ Aledus growled in disgust. ‘You could report him for that. The army doesn’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.’

  ‘He’s a senior officer,’ Fergus replied wearily. ‘If I accuse an officer like him of such behaviour, it is going to bring a whole shed load of shit on top of me. You know what I am talking about. No, maybe it’s better to just let it go un
reported. I have enough problems to deal with right now.’

  ‘Alright, let’s start with that tavern over there,’ Aledus said turning to point at a two storey stone building with a gaily painted sign hanging above the doorway. “I always wanted to go there. The boys from the First Legion say that they only employ virgins.’

  ***

  It was already deep into the night, when Fergus and Aledus emerged from the tavern and turned to stare forlornly down the street. The drinking place had been the fifth one they’d searched and once again they had come up empty handed. No one had seen Tiber and no one knew where he could be hiding. Several hours of searching had produced absolutely nothing and Fergus was tired, irritated and hungry. The Germans too had not been particularly happy to see them and they had found few people who had been able, sober and willing to speak to them in Latin.

  ‘Where next?’ Aledus growled in a dejection voice.

  ‘I think there is another place down near the river, which we could try,’ Fergus said as he started to cross the road and head down a side street.

  Wearily and silently the two of them trudged on down the street and into the darkness towards the Rhine, trying to avoid the vomit, piss and rowdy, celebrating Germans. The tavern, when they finally spotted it, was nestling alone, close to the edge of the river, away from the other buildings and the four, silent and dark Roman galleys that lay at anchor along the river bank. The reddish glow from a fire was just about visible through the cracks in the doorway and walls. The wooden and thatched German style long-house had been raised up onto a large, wooden platform by a series of thick, sturdy wooden-posts and a short, timber ladder led from the ground up onto the platform. And out beyond the building, the placid and silver waters of the Rhine flowed silently onwards on their long journey to the sea.

  ‘Why did they do that?’ Aledus said with a yawn as he gazed at the house.

  ‘Probably to protect themselves from flooding,’ Fergus muttered. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

  Aledus did not reply and tactfully let the remark go. Bad temperedly, Fergus clambered up the ladder and onto the platform and taking a quick, last look around, he opened the door and stepped into the long house. He was greeted by a blast of heat. In the middle of the long rectangular room, over the hearth, a piglet was roasting upon beautifully forged iron, fire-dogs. Drips of fat hissed and exploding in the flames and the rich, juicy smell of pork filled the room. A small group of men had turned to stare silently at Fergus, and against the far wall two stark-naked women were reclining on wooden chairs. Coolly the women stared at Fergus and Aledus, but made no effort to cover themselves up. Without a word Fergus turned and made his way towards a fat man, standing behind a makeshift bar. In the dim, reddish light, the barman’s forehead glistened with sweat.

  ‘I am looking for one of my men, a Roman soldier,’ Fergus said slowly in Latin. ‘His name is Tiber. He has a white scar on his right forearm. He’s eighteen, black haired and about my height. Have you seen him?’

  The fat man quickly glanced past Fergus at the group of men beside the doorway. Then he frowned and shrugged and rattled off a reply in his guttural Germanic language. Fergus sighed wearily and idly turned to glance at the naked women.

  ‘Does no one in this shit hole speak Latin,’ Fergus muttered. At his side, Aledus was staring at the naked girls.

  ‘It’s been a while,’ Aledus replied in a distracted voice. ‘Maybe we should ask those two beauties over there if they have seen Tiber?’

  In reply one of the women raised her eyebrows, slowly rose to her feet and came towards Aledus. Running her fingers lightly across his chest she said something in her Germanic language which drew a laugh from her companion. Aledus grinned stupidly as he touched her bright, blond hair and then carefully reached out to cup one of her breasts with his hand.

  ‘Maybe the search for Tiber can wait for a while,’ Aledus muttered.

  ‘We’re not here for that,’ Fergus snapped irritably. ‘We don’t have any time. Come on, what’s the German word for deserter?’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue,’ Aledus replied as he smiled at the girl. ‘The only words that I know are fuck, pussy and how much,’ and as he said the words, the girl burst out laughing and stepped away.

  Suddenly Fergus sensed movement behind him, and heard the wooden floor creak. Turning around he saw that the four men who’d been sitting beside the door were all on their feet and barring the way out. Fergus’s face darkened. The Germans blocking the way had folded their arms across their chests and were staring at him with sullen, unfriendly eyes. They were pale-faced, big brawny-looking men, at least a head taller than Fergus and Aledus and their long, wild, blond-hair fell to their shoulders. And to Fergus’s surprise they all appeared to be stone cold sober.

  ‘Now look what have you done,’ Fergus hissed at Aledus.

  One of the men took a step towards Fergus and snapped something in his harsh sounding language. Fergus frowned and shook his head, indicating that he had not understood and the man repeated himself, louder this time.

  ‘What?’ Fergus growled. ‘I don’t speak your language. I am here to find one of my men, a boy called Tiber.’

  Again the German spat something in his own language and this time he gestured at the naked women, who’d retreated to their chairs and were watching the confrontation with amused, excited looks.

  ‘Look,’ Aledus snapped taking a step towards the German. ‘We don’t speak your language, don’t you get it you Barbarian arsehole, so stop jabbering away and speak some proper Roman Latin.’

  ‘He says that you fuck girl, so now you must pay for her service,’ a voice behind them said suddenly in thickly accented Latin.

  Both Fergus and Aledus whirled around and gazed in surprise at the man who’d spoken. Fergus swore under his breath. Tiredness was playing with his judgment for he had not noticed the man sitting quietly on his own in the shadows.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Fergus blurted out.

  ‘He says you fuck girl, now you must pay,’ the man shrugged. ‘They will not let you leave until you have paid.’

  Fergus’s eyes narrowed and his hand dropped to rest on the pommel of his sword strapped to his belt. The man who’d spoken in Latin looked around forty. He was clad in an expensive-looking, black, sheepskin tunic, Roman army sandals and his fingers were adorned with beautiful and colourful amber rings that glinted and gleamed in the firelight. There was a crafty, intelligent gleam in his eyes as he studied Fergus with a faint, amused smile.

  ‘What are you talking about,’ Aledus hissed. ‘I never fucked her. I just touched her, that’s all. You saw what I did. We only just walked in.’

  And as he spoke Aledus grew increasingly angry. ‘Is this how you treat the men who protect your homes? What is this bullshit? You are not getting a single, copper coin. Not a single coin.’

  Behind Fergus the Germans blocking the way broke into bad tempered muttering.

  ‘Still they say you must pay,’ the man with the amber rings on his fingers replied.

  Aledus opened his mouth to reply but Fergus silenced him by quickly raising his hand.

  ‘How come you speak Latin?’ Fergus growled staring at the German.

  ‘It’s a long story and I don’t think your friends over there have the patience,’ the man replied. ‘I would advise you to pay.’

  ‘Or else what?’ Aledus snapped jutting out his chin.

  ‘Or else they will drown you in the river and let the fish feast on your corpses,’ the man replied sharply. ‘Like I said, I advise you to pay.’

  Fergus paused for a moment as beside him Aledus growled in frustration.

  ‘How much?’ Fergus said suddenly.

  The man with the amber rings turned to the Germans at the door and said something quickly in their rough harsh language and in return one of the tall giants spat out a word.

  ‘Two denarii,’ the man said turning to Fergus.

  ‘We will give you one Denarii,’ Fergus said quietly star
ing at the older man. ‘In exchange you and your friends will tell us if you have seen one of my men, a Roman soldier by the name of Tiber. He has gone missing. I have come to take him back to his barracks before his absence is noticed. And that is the best deal that you and you your friends are going to get.’

  For a moment, the room remained silent except for the hissing and spitting meat that was roasting over the fire. Across the floor, the older man was staring at Fergus. Then slowly his lips curled into a broad grin.

  ‘They are not my friends,’ the man said in a changed voice. ‘My name is Adalwolf and I am an amber merchant and you shouldn’t be here.’

  Adalwolf’s eyes gleamed with sudden interest. “Do you know that Lord Hadrian, Legate of the First Legion has ordered that all Roman soldiers be confined to their barracks until our religious feast is over. There is a curfew and you have broken it by coming here. I could report you for that. I am good friends with the Legate.’

  ‘You,’ Aledus sneered, ‘you know Hadrian, the Legate of the First Legion? I don’t think so.’

  ‘Shut your man up,’ Adalwolf said calmly looking at Fergus. ‘He and his big arrogant mouth are getting on my nerves. But I do know Hadrian and he is a good friend. I serve him as a guide, advisor and translator. No one knows Germania Magna and its people better than I.’

  ‘Do we have a deal or not?’ Fergus snapped.

  Adalwolf gazed at Fergus in silence for a moment. Then he rapped out a sharp word to the men clustered around the door and stretched out his hand towards Fergus with the palm open.

  ‘It’s done,’ Adalwolf replied. ‘They have agreed. Now show me your money.’

  ‘What have you got?’ Fergus muttered turning quickly to Aledus. Irritably Aledus fished around in his pockets and then sullenly handed Fergus a couple of coins. Fergus grunted, looked up at Adalwolf, showed him the money but instead of handing it over he closed his hand.