‘Come on, you cowards!’ he roared.
‘Peace,’ said Flavus, lowering his sword and motioning Tullus to do the same. ‘We have come to free you.’
‘Eh?’ Hope mixed with the suspicion in Segestes’ rheumy eyes as he lowered the chair. ‘Flavus? Can it be you?’
‘It is, and I am Senior Centurion Tullus,’ said Tullus in Latin, stepping into the light entering from the chimney hole in the roof and pulling back his cloak so that the phalerae on his chest winked and glittered. All of a moment, Segestes’ bravado vanished, and a smile worked its way on to his lined face. ‘Segimundus’ message got through.’
‘It did. Your captivity is over. Come.’ Flavus beckoned.
‘We’ve been told that Arminius is away,’ said Tullus, his heart pounding. ‘Is that true?’
‘Aye. The whoreson is off recruiting more chieftains to his cause.’ Segestes spat on the floor.
The news wasn’t unexpected, yet fresh bitterness scourged Tullus.
‘But my daughter – Arminius’ wife – is here,’ said Segestes. ‘And she’s carrying his child.’
New options presented themselves to Tullus. ‘Are they happily wed?’
‘They’ve been like two moonstruck calves since they met. My disapproval meant nothing to either of them.’ Segestes spat again. ‘To you Romans, Arminius is the violator of a treaty, but to me, he’s the abductor of a daughter.’
They had to seize her, Tullus decided. If Artio, the person he cherished most, were taken hostage, it would drive him close to madness. Flavus seemed to have come to the same conclusion. ‘Is she in their longhouse?’ he demanded.
‘I expect so,’ replied Segestes.
‘Take us there. Now,’ ordered Flavus.
‘It will be my pleasure,’ replied Segestes, looking smug.
Outside, Tullus was happy to surrender his mount in order that the weakened Segestes could ride. Holding the reins, he was able to talk with the old man as he guided them between the longhouses, with Flavus and his warriors as protection. Around them, chaos reigned as some buildings were ransacked and others set on fire. The reek of smoke and burning flesh was thick in the air. Women screamed, men called for their comrades and babies wailed. Distinguishable as auxiliaries only because they were on horseback, Flavus’ followers trotted hither and thither, killing at will.
Tullus took no joy from the indiscriminate carnage, yet he derived satisfaction from each dead warrior and retrieved Roman standard. There were plenty of both, but no legion eagles. Segestes appeared discomfited by the bloodshed, and when Tullus noticed, he said, ‘Know that I became Rome’s ally not because I hated my own kind, but because peace is better than war. If Arminius had not acted as he had, this would not be happening. The land would be at peace-’
‘And upwards of fourteen thousand legionaries would still be alive,’ interjected Tullus bitterly.
Understanding bloomed in Segestes’ eyes. ‘You served in one of the three legions! You were there?’
‘I did, and I was. Like you, I tried to warn Varus before the ambush.’ Segestes looked surprised, and Tullus went on, ‘I’d had suspicions about Arminius for some time, but I had no proof, nothing solid to give Varus. Perhaps if I’d managed to speak with him just after you had, things might have been different, but he had gone hunting by the time I got to his tent. I didn’t manage to approach him for days afterwards. Even then he wouldn’t heed a word that I said.’
‘Arminius’ silver tongue has ever been able to win people over,’ said Segestes with a scowl. ‘Man or woman.
‘She’s in that one.’ Segestes pointed at a longhouse to their left. ‘How will Arminius react to the news of his pregnant wife being in the custody of Rome, I wonder?’
‘My brother loves Thusnelda, and he has always wanted an heir. Their loss will drive him frantic,’ said Flavus, his eye glittering. He shouted a command, and a dozen of his men barged their way into the house. An indignant scream went up, and then another. It wasn’t long, however, before they emerged with Thusnelda, who kicked and struggled like a wild cat, needing four warriors to restrain her. One of her captors had a bleeding scratch on his face and a second was limping. ‘She’s spirited,’ said Flavus.
‘Aye.’ Tullus felt little sympathy for Thusnelda – she was his hated enemy’s wife. As long as they reached the nearest Roman forces before the inevitable pursuit caught up, they would have delivered a more humiliating blow to Arminius’ pride than the freeing of his father-in-law. His fury would know no bounds. The next time there was an opportunity to face Germanicus’ forces in battle, Arminius would not hold back.
But there would be no repeat of the bloody ambush in the forest and bog, thought Tullus with relish. Germanicus’ eight legions guaranteed defeat for Arminius and his allies.
Chapter XX
Arminius was riding hard. He was, he thought, less than three miles from his settlement, and individual twists and turns of the woodland path were becoming familiar. A little way to his left, there, was a good spot for fishing the nearby stream. In the distance, he could see the low hill favoured by the local priests.
He’d been riding at breakneck speed for some time, and his mount was floundering. Strings of saliva ran from its open mouth and down its neck, and its sides were dark-streaked with sweat, but Arminius didn’t give a shit. Infuriated by its gradual loss of pace, and without a whip, he had taken to slapping its haunches with the flat of his sword. If the beast died beneath him, so be it. Getting back was all that mattered.
Over the course of the previous two days, he’d crippled one horse and exhausted several others in his efforts to return. The warriors in his party had long since been left behind, but he didn’t care about that either. ‘On, curse you!’ he cried, bringing down his blade on the horse’s rear again, eliciting a deep grunt of pain. There was only a fractional increase in speed, which soon fell away. Arminius was about to strike the horse again, but it staggered, and he lowered his arm. There were no farmhouses in sight. If his mount collapsed, he would lose valuable time searching for a fresh one, or running to the settlement. Better, then, to ride on slower than he wished.
The news of Thusnelda’s abduction and the freeing of Segestes could have reached him in few worse places. He had been on the far side of the River Albis, visiting the Semnones tribe, who lived to the east of the Cherusci lands. At the time, it hadn’t mattered that the chieftain he wanted to talk to was on a hunting trip a day’s ride further east. That was until a warrior sent by Maelo had come looking for Arminius with the calamitous tidings. He could still see the fear – of his reaction – in the warrior’s eyes, and his ears yet rang with Maelo’s gut-wrenching words. ‘Your brother Flavus has raided the settlement. Your wife has been taken, and Segestes freed. Our horses are gone too, but I have given chase.’ A throbbing fury pulsed behind Arminius’ eyes, causing a momentary darkening of his vision. Thusnelda! he wanted to scream.
Maelo got it wrong, he told himself. The fool has addled his brain with too much barley beer, and dreamed the whole thing. The tactic didn’t work for even two heartbeats. He knew that his second-in-command was more loyal, more dependable than anyone. The stars would fall from the sky before Maelo sent such a message in error. Arminius ground his teeth. I’ll find you, Flavus, brother, he thought, and cut your beating heart from your chest – but not before I’ve fed you your own balls.
He could see the first longhouses now. The chances of Maelo having rescued Thusnelda were slender, but Arminius’ heart quickened anyway. ‘Come on, you useless creature,’ he shouted, hitting the horse again. This time, it didn’t speed up at all, and despite his frustration, Arminius had to accept that its energy was spent. He threw himself from its back and began to run. ‘Maelo? Where is Maelo?’ he shouted, haring past a surprised-looking woman carrying two pails of water. He was past her so fast that her reply was lost. Arminius broke into a sprint, making for his longhouse.