Ben Kane: Hunting the Eagles

‘Perhaps,’ said Maelo, his brows lowering. ‘If he’s heard the news about him.’

‘He must have.’ It had been a real battle to win the leader of the third Cheruscan faction over – Inguiomerus had not helped to ambush Varus five years before – but Arminius had succeeded in doing so not long before the harvest. ‘Word of it will have travelled – you know how it is.’

‘Aye, probably.’ Maelo studied the approaching group, who numbered about twenty. Warriors all, with Segestes in the middle of them. ‘Mayhap you’re right. Segestes won’t like it that Inguiomerus now stands with us.’

‘Here he is.’ Arminius got to his feet. ‘Welcome, Segestes, defender of Rome!’

Arminius’ men rumbled their disapproval of Segestes’ allegiance.

Glowering at this veiled insult, Segestes’ warriors parted, allowing him to walk towards Arminius. Segestes’ smile stayed in place, but anger glinted in his eyes. Less brawny, more silver-haired and with fewer teeth than he’d had five years before, he still cut an imposing figure, in tunic and trousers of fine-woven wool, and wearing a sword as expensive as that of Arminius.

Ten steps from Arminius, he stopped. If the nod that followed was perfunctory, his return greeting spoke even louder. ‘I greet you, Arminius, oathbreaker.’

Arminius raised a hand to quell his men’s rage. ‘In my mind, an oath made to a hated overlord is never binding. A pledge made between equals – that is something to honour.’

The implication – that Segestes and others of his kind were nothing more than Rome’s lapdogs – was lost on no one. His warriors shifted about, poor at concealing their fury, yet aware that a single false move would seal their doom.

Segestes was better at playing the game. ‘Many would hold that a vow taken before the gods should be kept irrespective of whom it is made to. My conscience is clear! I have honoured my oath to Rome these fifteen years and more.’

‘So you have.’ Arminius’ tone was contemptuous, and he made a dismissive gesture. ‘We could bandy words until the sun falls from the sky, Segestes. Unless I am a fool, you are not here to win me over, nor am I callow enough to try and convert you to my cause. I bid you welcome, nonetheless. As father of my wife, you are an esteemed guest.’

‘I thank you, Arminius.’ Segestes inclined his head a fraction more than the first time. ‘How is my daughter?’

‘See for yourself.’ Arminius turned his head. ‘Wife! Come forth.’

As Thusnelda emerged from the longhouse, there was a general intake of breath. The sight of her filled Arminius with pride – and not a little lust. She was lustrous-haired, statuesque and more beautiful than any woman in the tribe. Her long green dress was of modest cut, yet its figure-hugging shape left nothing to the imagination. Gold winked at her ears and wrists, and a priceless necklace of polished amber graced her throat.

The smile she gave Arminius made his heart pound. Her father received a cool dip of her chin – there was respect there, just. ‘You are welcome, Father.’

‘Daughter.’ Segestes’ eyes were bright with happiness. ‘It is good to see you.’

‘And you, Father.’ Thusnelda’s tone was warm, but Arminius was relieved also to hear wariness in it. ‘You will stay the night?’ she asked. ‘A feast is being prepared in your honour.’

‘I am flattered. Thank you,’ said Segestes, unbending a little more. ‘Our journey this morning has been short enough, but I am no longer a young man. Sleeping in unfamiliar beds takes its toll.’

‘Our home is your home,’ said Thusnelda, as custom dictated. ‘It is yours for as long as you wish.’

‘You’re a good daughter. We must depart tomorrow or the day after, however.’

‘Are we your last port of call?’ asked Arminius, fishing.

Thusnelda’s smile disappeared, and Segestes’ eyes narrowed. After a long moment, he said, ‘No.’

‘You will visit Inguiomerus after leaving here?’

‘I will.’

‘And your purpose?’ demanded Arminius, no longer trying to sound friendly.

‘My business with Inguiomerus is my own,’ replied Segestes, his tone, like that of Arminius, granite hard.

‘You will seek to break the alliance I have made with him.’

‘Your words, not mine.’ Segestes’ smile resembled that of a wolf.

‘Why else would you meet with him?’

‘Can a man not call on an old friend and fellow chieftain?’

‘Don’t play games with me!’ Despite himself, Arminius felt his temper rising.

‘Stop it!’ ordered Thusnelda. ‘I will brook no arguments.’

‘My apologies, dear wife. You will hear no more from me.’ Arminius put on his most winning smile, the one that persuaded men to place their trust in him.

‘Nor me.’ Segestes’ expression was as genial, and false, as Arminius’.

‘Come, Father.’ Thusnelda took his arm. ‘Let us walk together. I want to hear the news from home. How is Mother? Are my sisters and brothers well?’

‘It’s as you thought,’ muttered Maelo the instant the two were out of earshot.

‘Aye,’ said Arminius. ‘Why else would the filth want to see Inguiomerus other than to pour weasel words in his ear?’

‘There’s not much to do about it either, other than kill him,’ said Maelo. ‘Cool as his relationship with Thusnelda is, I’d wager that to do so would see you unwelcome in her bed for a year.’

‘Or more,’ replied Arminius, snorting with black amusement. ‘There is another option, just as effective, and nowhere near as like to turn her against me.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Take the bastard hostage. Prevent him from seeing Inguiomerus and from returning to his own kind, there to foment further ill will against me.’

‘You’re suggesting we keep the loudmouth here for good?’ Maelo rolled his eyes. ‘He’ll send us all mad.’

‘It won’t be forever. We can release him when next year’s campaigning season is over. Men’s heads then will be full of our victories over the Romans. They won’t listen to him.’

‘And his guards?’ Maelo drew a sly finger across his throat.

‘No. We must not create ill will in the minds of men such as Inguiomerus. He’s our ally, but he is still a friend to Segestes. Just get the guards pissed at the feast tonight, so they can be disarmed. Once that’s done, we’ll explain to Segestes how it’s going to be. He can keep two warriors as company. The rest we’ll send home.’

Maelo gave him an approving look. ‘A fine plan.’

‘Segestes won’t be feeling so clever this time tomorrow,’ said Arminius, smiling. With his father-in-law out of the way, he would be able to concentrate on recruiting tribes to his cause.

Come the spring, his gut told him, he would again have twenty thousand spears to call on.

Germanicus and his legions would not know what had hit them.

Tullus was walking back to his unit’s position from a friend’s tent, where he had consumed a decent quantity of wine, and put the world to rights. A fuzzy good mood encased him – the world always seemed a better place after an evening drinking in agreeable company. Despite the warm glow in his belly, it was impossible not to notice that the legionaries outside their tents seemed quieter than usual. Of an evening, it was the norm for men to sit and stand about, bantering with one another, telling filthy jokes and talking in loud voices. There was none of that tonight.

Tullus was accustomed to men avoiding his centurion’s gaze. Now he felt the weight of many stares as he passed each little group. If he turned his head, however, the soldiers were quick to look away, or to study their campfires. Tullus didn’t like it one bit, but he would prove nothing by challenging everyone in his path, so he marched on, affecting not to notice the unusual and unwanted attention.