He put his knuckles to his mouth. “The Alemanni—”
“Are not as strong as they would have others believe,” I said.
Still he hesitated.
“Silver,” I said. “But no land.”
He said grudgingly, “My people are content with what they have.”
I did not smile.
That night we feasted him and he became very drunk. “I have fine daughters,” he said. “They are young and strong and pleasing. I will send you one and she shall be your wife as a sign that we are friends.”
“You do me great honour,” I said.
He left next morning, dripping with water that his servants had flung over him to get rid of his headache. I hoped that he would forget his promise. I did not want another wife.
Later I crossed the river at Bingium with a large escort and rode into the dark green hills that lay between the Burgundians and the desolate plain that belonged to the Alemanni. In a thick glade, full of dark shadows and shifting sunlight, we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by armed men. I raised my hands to warn my men to keep theirs low on their saddles. Then I rode towards their leader who sat barebacked on a roan mare as still as himself.
“Prince Marcomir,” I said.
“Yes.” He saluted me in the Frankish fashion.
“You know me?”
“Yes.” He was taller than Guntiarus and young enough to have been my own son. Suddenly he smiled. “My people have talked of little else since your soldiers lined the river.” He added grimly, “It was not before time.”
I said, “Do you wish to cross the Rhenus also?”
He grinned. “I have a small territory which I hold with difficulty. My problems would not be less if I enlarged it.”
“Can I count on your support?”
“Why not?” He added softly, “We all need help.”
“There was a time—” I began.
“But it is not now,” he cut in quickly. “Do not worry, your Excellency,” he went on. “I made a pact with Stilicho. He is a man. I am in friendship with Guntiarus, and the Alemanni tolerate me because I am between them and the Burgundians.”
He laughed quietly but without amusement. “My strength lies, you see, in not being strong.”
I looked at him, sitting there half naked on his horse, the sweat trickling across a pattern of scars on his chest and arms. He was young and strong and had a sense of humour. I liked him and felt that he was a man I could trust.
“I spent some time in Gaul,” he said. “I was a hostage for my father’s good behaviour. Treverorum is a fine city—very rich. Too rich,” he added gloomily.
“Do you know the Alemanni well?”
“I know their swords,” he said grimly.
“Tell me what you know. It will be of great use to me.”
We dismounted from our horses and walked towards a fallen tree trunk.
Quintus said, “We need more men. We want twice the auxiliaries we have at the moment.”
“Perhaps we can raise them in Gaul.”
“Do you really believe that?” He snorted his contempt.
“Where else then? I agree with you about the men. I have had a stone in my stomach ever since the letter came from Stilicho.”
He said, “There is supposed to be an army of thirty thousand in Gaul.”
“Yes, on files, in the archives at Mediolanum. And not enough money in the provincial treasury to pay a third of that number.”
“Well, what then, my General?”
“I think I had better go back to Treverorum and talk to the Curator. If we have taken all the veterans’ and soldiers’ sons we can get hold of, and there are no more volunteers, then we must use other means. I can see Gallus too. He will have time enough now in which to build his ships. In any event something must be done to smooth our relations with the officials there. They will have to endure us another year whether they like it or not.”
He frowned. “Perhaps longer. Shall I come?”
“Of course. Lucillius can take command. He is reliable and the experience will be good for him.”
There was a knock and the Chief Centurion came in. “About the bath house, sir. I am having great difficulty in getting the men to use it.”
“Why, Aquila? Don’t they like washing?”
He smiled. “Yes, sir, but they prefer to use the river?”
“When I was young they used the bath house as a club. They played dice in it and gambled away their pay.”
He said patiently, “They prefer to do that in the town, sir.”
“Habits change, is that it? Yes, of course. The thing is, I don’t want trouble with the local women. These people have very strict ideas, and if our men get their girls into the family way there will be some fighting. I had to buy off a village last month when some young fool in the second cohort got too friendly with their chief’s daughter. I need gold for more important things than that.”
“I know, sir.”
“Very well, Aquila. See what you can do. Find some other way of amusing them in their spare time.”
He said, “Are you going to Treverorum, sir?”
“Yes. Why? Do you want me to bring you back a present?”
He smiled. “No, sir. But there’s that business of the legionary who killed himself last week.”
“I remember. He was in the Headquarters Cohort. Flavius Betto was his name, wasn’t it?”
Aquila nodded. “He was a Brigante, sir. Worried about his family. Wanted his discharge papers.”
I said, “We all want our discharge. I refused him, didn’t I?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s about his property, sir. His father owned a big estate near Eburacum, sir. He bought it out of his profits as a silversmith.”
“Yes. Land was cheap enough then. I remember.”
“The father died a month ago and left him everything.”
“Any next of kin?”
“One sister, but she may be dead.”
“Did our chap make a will?”
Aquila looked straight ahead of him. “We haven’t found one yet, sir.”
I knew what he was thinking. If there were no will and no next of kin his property belonged to the legion. We were short of funds. Even a patched-up estate in Britannia might bring in some revenue.
I shook my head. “You had better see if you can find it. Give me his documents and I’ll put the matter in the hands of the magistrate. He can sort the thing out.”
“You won’t forget the boots, sir?”
“No. I won’t forget the boots.”
We made a slow journey to Treverorum, stopping to inspect the signal posts on the way and taking pains to establish contact with the new auxiliaries who now manned them. Twice we met detachments of men returning from leave, for I would not let them travel alone, and once a cavalry patrol appeared suddenly out of the scrub, their commander, young Marcus Severus, explaining apologetically that he had used us as a target for a practice ambush. Quintus said brusquely, “Very well done, but don’t spread out so much. And get those horses’ manes plaited. I’ve told you about that before.”
Back in the city we established ourselves in Romulus and sent for the Curator and his staff. Brieflly I told him the news. He went white when he learned that our stay was to be extended indefinitely.
“What can we do for you?” he asked cautiously.
“Firstly, there’s the matter of trading dishonesty. My quartermaster made a contract with a number of leather-smiths here for the supply of boots. They were to be made in standard sizes and each was to contain four thicknesses of leather in the sole. When they were delivered and issued it was found that they had only two thicknesses of leather. Here is a pair in proof of the matter.”