James Mace - Soldier of Rome - The Legionary

Teutoburger Wald, Germania

August, 9 A.D.

What a fool you are, Quintilius Varus!

The mass of trees grew thicker, the sky darker, and what had started off as a mild summer shower had turned into a torrential downpour. The small contingent of Roman horsemen was already soaked and shivering, their Germanic guides laughing at their plight. Soon after entering the forest, they came upon a bog. The mud was thick and slimy, the water smelled rank with stagnation. The group halted as the Germans gazed around. Their leader’s face broke into a sly grin as he saw the path he was looking for. They were getting close.

“How much further?” one of the troopers asked, the rain continuing to drench them, in spite of the tree canopy.

“Not far,” the lead guide answered, “I promise, it will all be over soon.”

“The gods curse this weather,” another Roman muttered.

“Which gods?” still another one grunted.

As the cold rain slowly trickled down the back of his neck, the barbarian guide laughed to himself. The weather will soon be the least of your worries, he thought. Just then a Centurion rode up to him.

“What in Hades is the holdup?” he asked, irritated. “You were supposed to find the most expedient route for our column, and instead we’re at a standstill!” He was soaked and freezing, though he did not notice, so hot was his anger. Centurion Calvinus hated and deeply mistrusted the Germans. He could not for the life of him figure out how Varus had ever grown to trust them. The barbarian calmly turned his mount around to face him.

“It was your commanding general who entrusted us with the leading of your men through the Wald. I am sorry that a little summer shower has soured your mood; however, I take it you are not questioning his judgment.” There was a sneer of defiance on the German’s face, something that only further enflamed Calvinus.

He brought his horse alongside the German’s and leaned forward so that their faces were just centimeters apart. “Don’t think just because you wormed your way into Varus’ inner circle that you can take on airs with me, Arminius . If you don’t find us a way through this bloody mess right now, I will gut you myself!”

The threat was very real, though Arminius’ face remained calm.

“I already have,” he replied mildly, “there, past that fallen oak and the cluster of rocks, the path that will lead you straight through Teutoburger Wald.”

Calvinus gazed over to where the barbarian was pointing. Sure enough, there was a path that led through the bog. However, it was very narrow, only wide enough for three to four soldiers to walk abreast in places. Steep rock formations rose up on the left side further down.

“You want us to march along that? ” His anger was boiling over. With the rocks on one side and an impassible swamp on the other, the path was the perfect lane for setting up an ambush. “One would have to be either insane or a complete half-wit to attempt that.”

“Your own auxiliaries are already up on the slope, protecting your flank, but if you think you can find a better way, feel free,” Arminius replied with a bored sigh. “In the meantime, I suppose I should go and tell Quintilius Varus, Senator and Governor-General of Germania, that one of his centurions does not trust his judgment and, indeed, thinks him to be half-witted.”

As Arminius started to turn his horse back around, Calvinus grabbed him roughly by the tunic. “I smell treachery on you, barbarian. If you in any way prove me right, I will follow you straight into the pits of hell and destroy you, be you Quintilius Varus’ friend or no.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your cohort, centurion? ” Arminius asked as he jerked away from Calvinus’ grip. As he rode away, he thought to himself that it didn’t matter if this Roman trusted him or not. In fact, it did not matter if the entire army mistrusted him. All that mattered was what Varus thought, and he had Varus in the palm of his hand.

Arminius was a Germanic warrior of great distinction, War Chief of the Cherusci, and had previously served as an auxiliary commander of Germanic cavalry for the Romans. This had greatly appealed to the impressionable Varus, so much so that he had even taken Arminius to be one of his closest confidants.

What a fool you are, Quintilius Varus, Arminius thought. Your head and your eagles will soon be mine! He took a glance over his shoulder to see if the rather troublesome centurion was still behind him, but Calvinus had gone.

“That Roman’s become too suspicious,” one of the other scouts remarked as he rode up alongside his war chief.

“It matters not,” Arminius replied, “his bones will soon be trampled into the mud, along with the rest of the Army of the Rhine.”

As Calvinus made his way back to the column, his cohort commander rode out to meet him. The man had his cloak wrapped around him, though it was soaked completely through. He was shivering and miserable, as were the rest of their men.

“What’s the delay up there?” the senior centurion asked impatiently.

“The barbarians claim to have found us a way through, but I must tell you that I sense a trap.”

The cohort commander lowered and shook his head. Here we go again , he thought. “Calvinus, for the last time…”

“Gods damn it, why won’t any of you listen to me?” Calvinus barked in a complete breach of protocol. He was at his wits’ end and tired of being ignored. For weeks he had been warning his fellow officers about his suspicions, and he was desperate not to allow the Army to take the path that he knew in his heart led to certain death.

His commander’s eyes grew wide in anger at the sudden outburst from his subordinate, but Calvinus was not about to back down.

“I keep telling you about all the signs that say ‘this is an ambush,’ yet no one will listen! I smelled a rat as soon as this expedition was announced. A few zealous tribesmen murder a Roman tax collector and his staff and we send three legions after them? Then Arminius assures Varus that there would be no resistance, that the tribes were mostly docile. Since when have Germanic tribes ever been docile? And was it not Arminius who convinced Varus to allow the soldiers to take their families and camp followers with them? That is the biggest breach of Army procedures I have ever heard of in my career!”

The cohort commander listened impatiently to the same rant he had heard nearly a dozen times in the last week alone.

“And how about that older German, Arminius’ father-in-law, Segestes? He even warned Varus that Arminius plans to betray us. I’m telling you…”

“No, I’m telling you , centurion!” The cohort commander growled. “If you do not cease and desist immediately, I am going to drag you before the commanding general myself. Do not forget that Varus wanted to strip you of your rank and position the last time you were rude to one of his native guests, and it was my intervention which prevented it. And now you dare to get insubordinate with me? I will deal with you later, Calvinus; though I must tell you, you will be lucky if you leave Teutoburger Wald with your rank intact if I have anything to say about it. Now return to your century!”