Ingenuus nodded and continued to listen.
“Be deferential. Only speak when you’re spoken to. If you feel there’s something that needs to be said, say it. If you say something profound or useful, it can only improve your standing. If it’s not profound or useful, be prepared to be the butt of a few jokes. Caesar’s very sharp and so are a number of his senior staff.”
Ingenuus nodded again.
“I’m nervous.”
Balbus smiled.
“Don’t be. This is social. In less than a week, we’ll be facing the Germans. That should make us nervous.”
* * * * *
Even from his position at the front of the Tenth, Fronto could hear Velius at the head of the Second Cohort groaning and shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. He had spent the last few days walking with a curious gait that reminded Fronto of a duck. There had been a number of humorous comments made on the subject and consequently a number of black eyes. The centurion didn’t take kindly to that kind of joke.
The Tenth had stopped around sixty or seventy yards from the large earth mound on which the two leaders would meet. Straining to observe through the murk and past the small hillock, he could just see the German cavalry roughly the same distance away at the other side of the plain.
Dust blew across the grassy space, kicked up by thousands of horses on both sides. Fronto could barely see Caesar less than ten feet ahead of him. The two leaders had agreed on ten men with which to approach the mound. Caesar had left that with Fronto and so he, Priscus, Velius, Longinus, Ingenuus and Varus, the prefect of the Ninth’s cavalry wing, and four of the more impressive riders of the Tenth sat between Caesar and the column, waiting for the order.
“Can you see anything, Fronto?”
Caesar blinked away the dust as he looked over his shoulder at the legate. Fronto shook his head.
“Ingenuus, do that standing in the saddle trick I saw you do and see if you can spot anything above this dust.”
The prefect grinned and hopped up onto his saddle. He put one hand to his brow, shading his eyes and, with the other, pulled his military scarf a little higher over his nose and mouth.
“Looks like a small party of horses moving out front, heading for the hill.”
As he dropped back into the saddle, Caesar gave the order for the honour guard to move forward. The eleven men trotted slowly toward the hill. A lull in the breeze saw the dust die down for a moment and the officers caught a glimpse of the German riders on the other side of the hill. A minute later they trotted up the slope and stopped, facing Ariovistus, who had crested the hill at the same time.
Here on the mound the air was clear and fresh.
Fronto glanced around at the Tenth, gleaming in red and bronze and iron, poised a few hundred feet from them. On the other side, a mass of several thousand German cavalry, dressed individually in the Celtic style, watched intently and suspiciously.
Caesar initiated the meeting as soon as the horses had stopped moving, giving Ariovistus no time to begin.
“Ariovistus the German. It is not fitting that we should be here at all. You have been labelled both a King and a friend of Rome by our Senate. Why now do we find a Roman army facing a German army if you are a friend of Rome?”
The General gave his opposite number no chance to reply, but pressed on with an onslaught of words.
“We have granted you favours in the past, because you are a King and a friend of Rome.”
He gestured with a wave of his arm out toward the west in a wide, sweeping gesture.
“But you are not Rome’s only friend. The Aedui have been both friend and ally to Rome for a great length of time. We have just fought a long and bloody campaign against the Helvetii, one of your oldest enemies, largely for the benefit of the Aedui. We fight to protect our friends and allies, and we’re not frightened to take on a powerful enemy if the general good requires it.”
Fronto had been watching Ariovistus and had expected an inflamed response. He was surprised to realise that the German ‘King’ just looked bored. Caesar sighed and continued.
“You are our ally. The Aedui are our ally. Many of the Gaulish tribes are either our allies or theirs. Do not fight our allies, because for all that you are a friend or Rome, we will come to their defence and the contract between our peoples will be broken.”
Caesar began to gesture in an angry fashion, pointing at Ariovistus.
“Do not fight them! Restore all the hostages you have taken! Go home to your lands in Germany and do not cross the Rhine into Gaul again!”
Ariovistus waited patiently, the slightly bored look still on his face, until Caesar sat back and folded his arms. He then leaned forward over his horse’s neck and addressed Caesar.
“I came here… we all came here because of the Gauls. They asked us. I’ve been given lands, settlements in Gaul and promised great rewards for my help to the tribes here. You cannot possibly imagine that I will give up those settlements and go home without my rewards?”
He gestured at a gold torc around his neck.
“The loot I have was taken legitimately in conquest and is mine by a right that even the Romans cannot deny. The hostages I have were not ripped from their homes by my men. They were given to me by their tribes. We have fought these Gaulish tribes, but they attacked us, not the other way around. We beat them, individually and then together. We defeated the joint tribes of Gaul in one battle and you expect us to quake at you?”
He smiled an unsettling smile, for he was missing a number of the more visible teeth.
“Now there is peace. They pay me tribute. If they stop paying me tribute, I will crush them again, but there will be peace as long as they allow it. You do not bring peace; you bring war. I do not think that your alliance is for the benefit of the Gaulish tribes and I think they get nothing from it. They are stupid and weak, though, and will not break your alliance for they fear you too much.”
The German King tapped the hilt of his long sword with his fingertips.
“I am different, Roman. I am not afraid. If I begin to think that Rome’s friendship is less of a benefit and more of a burden, I will renounce it and may the flames take you. You have your Gaul, which lies on the mountains and along the coast to the south. This is my Gaul. I claimed it before you came anywhere near it. You have never come north from your Gaul before, so I can only assume you mean war regardless of the process.”
He pointed past Caesar at the mounted Tenth Legion and his eyes widened. Fronto had wondered how long it would take him to realise that the Roman troops here were Caesar’s veteran legion. Once more he gestured angrily at the General.
“If I had come into your Gaul, you would attack me. I would expect reprisal. Why then do you feel you can walk into my Gaul and threaten me without suffering the same?”
The King laughed.
“As for the Aedui, are they so close allies as you claim? If they are, why did they not help you in your recent war with Allobroges? Why did you not aid them against the Sequani in their time of need? You care nothing of alliance or friendship. You make and break treaties at your whim to your own best advantage. Your army is here to fight me and to take my lands off me. Why? Have you not enough lands of your own? If you do not leave my lands, I will label you ‘enemy’ and treat you as such.”