‘It’s a terrible state of affairs, sir,’ ventured Caecina.
‘Jupiter on high, it’s insufferable!’ shouted Germanicus, pacing up and down. ‘Intolerable!’
No one dared answer him.
If only they had until the following morning, thought Tullus. Under the cover of darkness, he could have led a select group of men to assassinate Bony Face and the other ringleaders. While dangerous, the mission wouldn’t have been impossible. In daylight, however, it would border on suicidal. Valuing his soldiers’ lives more than anything, Tullus decided not to say a word. Germanicus was no fool; he had to realise that his back was to the wall.
‘What can we do?’ demanded Germanicus, his eyes still roving around the tent.
There was a sudden interest in belt buckles and the toes of men’s boots. Uneasy coughs vied with throats that were being cleared. Tullus’ pride wouldn’t let him bend his head, and he cursed inwardly as Germanicus honed in on him.
‘Do we lead an attack on the ringleaders, and cut off all the Hydra’s heads?’ Close up, Germanicus’ great height was even more pronounced. He glared down at Tullus.
‘I will if you order me to, sir,’ said Tullus in a monotone.
Germanicus scowled. ‘You don’t think it’s a good idea?’
‘We’re too few, sir. Even if we made it to wherever the ringleaders are, they would tear us apart. Like as not, the mob would then turn on the headquarters.’ Tullus wasn’t sure about the last part, but he was not going to offer his men up as sacrificial sheep on the altar of Germanicus’ pride.
Germanicus considered his words, and then he let out a long breath. ‘In darkness, we might have succeeded, but not during daylight.’
‘That would be my thought, sir,’ said Tullus, hiding his relief.
Germanicus stalked off, coming to a halt before Tubero. ‘It’s rare for you to be silent, legate. What have you to offer?’
Tubero puffed out his chest. ‘I’d be happy to lead an attack on the ringleaders, sir, but, as you say, it would be too dangerous.’
Germanicus made a little sound of derision and walked on. ‘Anyone else?’
Tullus’ frustration rose as no one said anything for several moments. Why should it be down to him to speak? Officers far more senior than he were present. Nephew of the emperor or no, imperial governor or no, Germanicus had to be told.
In the end, Caecina had the balls. ‘The way I see it, sir, we only have one option.’
Germanicus whirled around, his face taut with emotion. ‘What is that?’
‘The mutineers must be paid their money, sir,’ said Caecina. ‘In my opinion, that is the only thing they’ll accept.’
‘The only thing? The only thing?’ Germanicus’ face was purple with rage; the veins stood out on his neck.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Caecina, looking nervous.
Germanicus raised his bunched fists to the heavens and a drawn-out Ahhhhh of anger and frustration left his lips.
Everyone watched; no one dared speak.
‘If we are all slain, the mutiny will continue.’ Germanicus’ tone was flat. ‘Restoring order is imperative, even if it means giving into the mutineers.’
Heads nodded; voices muttered, ‘Yes, sir,’ and, ‘Agreed, sir.’ Tullus gave silent thanks to the gods.
‘I doubt that I have enough funds to pay every soldier in four legions what he’s “owed”,’ said Germanicus with a bitter laugh. His eyes moved to Caecina, and on to the legates present. ‘I shall have to ask for a loan.’
Tullus watched sidelong as the senior officers fell over themselves to offer their assistance. Germanicus won’t forget this, he thought. For an imperial governor and royal family member to have to beg financial aid of his subordinates was a humiliation of the first order.
‘Good,’ said Germanicus, a slight inclination of his head the only sign of gratitude. ‘From the sounds of it, we shall have enough coin to pacify the rapacious dogs.’ His gaze stopped on Tullus. ‘Will the legions return to their bases now?’
‘I’d wager so, sir.’
‘That’s all we need for now.’ There was a short pause, and then Germanicus added in an icy voice, ‘Justice can be served later.’
Chapter X
‘Gods, how I hate this shithole!’ Segestes’ voice carried, as it was meant to, some distance from the longhouse he’d been confined to since his arrival. ‘Donar take Arminius, the flea-ridden mongrel!’ Arminius, standing on the grass close by, laughed. So did Maelo and the score of his warriors who were there, stretching their muscles. It was their habit each morning to exercise and train with their spears and swords – not something most men did, but they were the cream of Arminius’ followers.
‘Do you want me to shut him up?’ called one of the men standing watch by Segestes’ door.
‘Leave him be. I like hearing his complaints,’ Arminius replied, causing more amusement. ‘They’re a constant reminder that I did the right thing. If I’d let him go to Inguiomerus, we would have four thousand fewer spears to call on in the spring.’
‘I’m sick of the sound of him.’ Thusnelda came bustling from the direction of the woods, a basket of fresh-picked mushrooms balanced on her hip. ‘You can hear his voice half a mile away.’
‘How can you say such things about your father?’ asked Arminius with mock seriousness. He dodged away from the clout she swung at him.
‘I respect my father, but I cannot abide him whingeing from dawn till dusk. Couldn’t you keep him further away?’
Arminius had been keen from the outset to have Segestes close to hand, the better to monitor the guards he’d set upon his prisoner. Despite his jokes, several days of Segestes’ unrelenting, high-volume complaints meant that he too was growing weary of his prisoner. ‘I suppose we could put him in one of the houses near the edge of the settlement. Just for you,’ he said, trying to slip an arm around Thusnelda’s waist.
She dodged away from him with surprising agility. ‘Get off! Don’t expect to lay a hand on me until it’s done.’
Arminius scowled after her, as Maelo chortled. The others were amused too, but they hid it a little better. Arminius pretended not to hear any of them. Allowing himself to be the butt of an occasional joke – thereby proving he was as human as the next man – was no bad thing. ‘How about a plate of fried mushrooms instead?’ he called out.
‘Move him first,’ came the sharp retort. A moment later, the door of their longhouse slammed.
Fresh laughter erupted from Maelo and his men, and Arminius said, ‘You heard the woman. I’m going to starve and suffer from a constant erection if we don’t move Segestes.’
‘Best get it done soon then,’ declared Maelo. ‘I can see the bulge in your trousers from here.’
As his men’s mirth increased further, Arminius let himself chuckle. ‘We’ll move him after we’ve trained.’
They had been exercising for some time – running circuits of the settlement, lifting great sections of tree trunk, sparring with swords – when Arminius’ attention was drawn to the path that led westward, towards the Rhenus. Small boys and girls, and the pups that followed them, were dancing about what had to be a party of visitors. How was it, he wondered, that children were always drawn to the newcomer?
It was beneath his station to go and see who had arrived. There was no need anyway, for people tended to converge on the open central area where he and his warriors were gathered. Nonetheless, Arminius’ attention strayed from the task at hand, allowing Maelo to land a couple of painful blows on him with the flat of his blade. ‘Enough!’ Arminius cried.