Simon Scarrow4_ - The Eagle and the Wolves

'Sometimes a dream is merely a dream, my lord,' said Quintillus in a comforting tone. 'I'm sure the gods are determined to bless the Atrebatans with many more years of your rule.'

'Whose gods, Tribune? Yours or ours? I'm sure that I've done quite enough to appease the great Jupiter in recent months, but at what cost to the gods of my people?'

'As long as Jupiter is content, then you need fear no other god, my lord.'

'Really, Tribune?'

'Of course. I'd stake my life on it.'

Verica smiled. 'Let's hope you, and your two centurions, don't have to do anything quite so dangerous in the coming days.'

Quintillus looked offended. For a man who appeared to have drunk quite freely earlier that evening, he was surprisingly serious, thought Cato. Then he realised that the tribune had been putting on an act for the benefit of the Atrebatan nobles. No, Cato smiled, it was for the benefit of the tribune himself: wine and easy company loosened some tongues far more effectively than any amount of intrigue or torture.

'Are we in danger, my lord, from your people?' asked Cato. 'Are you in danger?'

'No!' Tincommius protested. 'Your people revere you, my lord.'

Verica smiled fondly at his nephew. 'You may still hold some affection for me, as might Artax there, but you are in no position to speak for the rest of my people.'

'They feel as I do, my lord.'

'Maybe, but I hope they don't think as little as you do.'

Tincommius' mouth opened in shock at the rebuke, then he looked down with an ashamed expression.

Verica shook his head sadly. 'Tincommius… Tincommius… don't feel angry with me. Truly, I value such loyalty. But you mustn't be blinded by it. You must look up and see the world as it really is. And plan accordingly. I know that there are some nobles who question my alliance with Rome. I know that they say I should never have been permitted to regain my kingdom. I know that they would dearly love to throw their lot in with Caratacus and go to war against Rome. I know all this, as does any man with the sense to see and hear what goes on in Calleva. But this is foolishness of the worst order.' Verica raised his eyes to the heavens again before continuing, 'We are a little people caught between two great forces. You remember how I was thrown out of my kingdom?'

'I was young, my lord, but I remember. When the Catuvellaunians crossed the Tamesis?'

'Aye. They are truly a greedy nation. First the Trinovantans, then the Cantiians, and then they demanded our unconditional loyalty, or our lands. So I had to quit Calleva and leave the kingdom in the hands of Caratacus' place man. There was no choice. I had to bear the indignity and shame of exile to spare my people far worse at the hands of Caratacus. You see, that's the true burden of being a king. You must rule for your people, not for yourself, whatever the cost. Do you understand me?'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Good. Then you will know how that shame was redoubled when the legions landed and returned my kingdom to me at the point of their swords. Whether it is me, or any other, who rules in Calleva, we do so at the whim of greater powers than the Atrebatans. All we can do is survive as best we can. And that means throwing ourselves at the mercy of the strongest force.'

'But, my lord,' Cato protested, 'you are an ally of Rome, not some vassal.'

'Really? And what might the difference be in the long run? Ask your tribune. Ask him what will happen to us when Rome eventually crushes Caratacus.'

Cato translated, and silently prayed that the tribune would phrase his response carefully.

Quintillus replied with no trace of his usual cordiality. 'King Verica, I'd have thought you'd be a bit more grateful to the Emperor. Why, if it wasn't for us you'd still be stuck in some backroom suite at the Governor's palace in Lutetia. You've done well by Rome, and as long as you stay a loyal ally you will continue to do well.'

'And you will leave us be?' Verica replied in Latin. 'Leave us to rule ourselves?'

'Of course! As long as it's expedient.' Quintillus drew himself up stiffly. 'You have my word.'

'Your word?' Verica tipped his head to one side with an amused expression, as he turned towards Tincommius. 'You see, Tincommius? That's the choice before us. The certainty of being conquered if Caratacus wins against the probability of being turned into a province if Rome wins.'

'It might not ever happen,' said Cato.

'It is happening already, Centurion. I know the full scope of the tribune's powers, as I'm sure do you and Centurion Macro. It's time that his orders are revealed.'

Cato forced himself not to glance at Artax, and flashed a warning glance at Macro, but he needn't have bothered. The older centurion was fighting back a yawn and his eyelids were heavy with the desire for sleep.

'Tribune,' Verica continued, 'why not tell us the real purpose of your visit to Calleva? What were your instructions? The ones you discussed with me two days ago?'

'Sir, that was in strictest confidence.'

'It won't be. Not in a few more weeks. I may not be alive then. My closest kinsmen, Tincommius and Artax, need to know the full truth. Tell us now.'

Tribune Quintillus pressed his lips together as he considered the best response to make. In the end he took the least honourable way out.

'I can't. My orders were specific – I should tell only you. A soldier never disobeys orders.'

'Very brave of you,' Verica replied scathingly. 'Well then, I'll have to break the news. Your General Plautius fears that our people will not honour the treaty I made with Rome. Accordingly, he has… what was the word?… requested! He has requested me to be ready to disband the two cohorts as soon as he gives the word.'

As Cato translated, Macro sat up abruptly, wide-eyed and angry. Tincommius and Artax were similarly shocked.

'There's worse news, far worse,' Verica continued. 'As well as the disbanding, he requires that every single Atrebatan warrior is disarmed, and the weapons are to be… placed beyond use. I believe that was the expression.'

'No!' Artax growled. 'No! My lord, it can't be. It's not true. Say it's not true!'

After his silence thus far, the awful anguish and outrage in Artax's voice stilled the tongues of the others as the Atrebatan noble jumped to his feet. Verica reached out a hand, open-palmed, to calm his relative.

'Artax, please…'

'No! I will not surrender my arms! None of us will! We'd rather die.'

Cato translated the man's outburst.

'I'm sure the tribune's happy to arrange that,' Macro whispered to Cato as Artax continued to rant in Celtic. 'And the bastard's going to kill our cohorts.'

'Quiet, please, sir.' Cato tapped his friend's arm.

Verica had risen from his stool and walked over to Artax, gently grasping him by the shoulders. 'Think what you're saying, Artax! Think! It is the Roman general's order. If we resist it, then we are finished. They'll crush us like an egg. We must disarm our people. We must disband the cohorts. Whatever the dishonour. Dishonour is better than death.'

'Not for warriors!' Artax spat back.

'This isn't about warriors. This is about all of our people. Do you think for a moment that the legions will stop to discriminate between the people they butcher? Do you?' Verica shook him. 'Well?'

'No…'Artax admitted.

'Then we have no choice… You have no choice.'

'Me?' Artax looked at his king closely. 'What do you mean, sire?'

'If I die, for whatever reason, in the near future, it is my wish that you will become king. I call these others to bear witness to my wish… Now do you see why you must carry out General Plautius' order?'

Every face turned towards the king in astonishment. Then Cato looked round the men gathered by the dying fire. Tincommius was shocked and clearly fighting back some kind of emotion. Tribune Quintillus was surprised and then smiled contentedly. Verica simply looked relieved to have unburdened himself of this decision. Macro looked angry.