‘What must I do?’
‘Nothing. Put me in charge, and be willing to see that my instructions are carried out — to the letter, mind.’
‘To the letter.’ With difficulty, Theoderic suppressed a smile.
Like a miniature tornado, Callisthenes swept through the encampments in Moesia Secunda and Dacia Ripensis, the two provinces assigned to the Ostrogoths: observing, questioning, assessing, taking notes. His lightning tour completed, he returned to Novae, armed with a lengthy list of Things to Be Done. First, transport. To be ‘fit for purpose’ (the merchant’s favourite expression), each wagon must be eighteen feet long by four wide, the body constructed of hard-wearing timber such as oak or hornbeam. The wheels (two pairs, bound with iron tyres fitted when white-hot so as to shrink and grip securely, the front ones with pivoted axle for steering) must be of tough, flexible wood such as ash or some species of walnut; connected to the front axle, the drag pole must be sturdy and long enough to inspan twelve draught oxen by a system of yokes, yoke-pins, and rawhide ropes. Attached to the body by iron staples, there would be green-wood boughs to support a canvas tent against hot sun or foul weather. At the front there should be a large chest stretching the width of the wagon, providing seating for the driver and storage space for personal belongings, also iron hooks inside and underneath the body to support pots and pans, tools and other heavy gear. Stores must include sacks of flour and grain (plus hand querns for milling) and bags of dried meat — sufficient to feed each family as far as the edge of the Empire; also drums of fat to grease the wheels hubs, spare ropes, yokes, yoke and linch-pins; rolls of canvas and rawhide for repairs; bars of iron; tools such as augers, spokeshaves, chisels, tongs, hammers, drawing-knives to trim hooves; spare horseshoes (for those wealthy enough to own a mount), and a hundred other items. All livestock (especially draught animals) to be rigorously examined and if necessary treated, to ensure they were strong and healthy enough to cope with the rigours of the long trek.
Regarding implementation of these specifications, Callisthenes was utterly inflexible. ‘“Intolerance” is my middle name,’ he told the king. ‘To get your people to their destination safely and securely, you can’t afford any weak links in the chain. One single broken wheel or axle could bring the expedition grinding to a halt.’ Fortunately, a seemingly inexhaustible stream of funds from the Treasury in Constantinople ensured that even the poorest Gothic household could afford to meet Callisthenes’ stringent requirements. (This heightened Theoderic’s suspicion that Zeno was only too willing to part with however much gold it took, to be rid of ‘guests’ whose presence had become unwelcome.)
Regarding weaponry, Callisthenes had nothing to say, declaring that he was a trader, not an arms dealer. Theoderic had few worries on that score. As a warrior nation, the Ostrogoths were probably equipped as well as or better than any other tribes they might encounter. The great mass of the host, some forty thousand warriors, was armed with spears; a few — leaders or the wealthy — might also possess helmets, swords, and ring-mail hauberks.
With the last of the harvest in, and all items on Callisthenes’ list of Things to Be Done ticked off, the great migration finally began on the last day of September in the year of the consuls Dynamius and Sifidius.* Headed by Theoderic’s party, then Frederick and his Rugians, the wagon train set off in sections of a hundred vehicles, there being two hundred sections altogether. In charge of each section was a wagonmaster, hand-picked by Theoderic and Timothy for reliability and leadership. Conspicuous for not being chosen to fulfil such a role was Thiudimund. (Theoderic’s suspicions of treachery on his brother’s part had been aroused too many times for the king to risk entrusting him with such a key responsibility.) Predictably, Thiudimund had protested, then, his brother remaining adamant, had raged and sulked, but in the end been forced reluctantly to accept the king’s decision.
Like a long, long snake, the column of wagons wound slowly south, covering ten to fifteen miles per day. This first part of the journey was over familiar terrain: through the Shipka Pass to the Maritsa Valley, where the train picked up the great Roman highway leading them west to Philippopolis; then north-west through the Succi Pass, scene of Theoderic’s ambush by Strabo; and after a further three hundred miles to Singidunum, where, all those years ago, he had defeated Babai. Knowing that in all likelihood he was viewing these scenes for the last time, Theoderic felt a keen nostalgia as the train rolled steadily north-westwards through the diocese of Dacia. Ablaze with the reds and golds of autumn, a succession of achingly beautiful landscapes moved slowly past: forests, majestic mountains, lakes and waterfalls. Beyond Singidunum the scenery changed abruptly, rolling hills clad in woods of oak and chestnut giving place to tillage and meadow, as the Roman road led them down into the broad valley of the Danubius.
Some fifty miles beyond Sirmium, as the wagon train, with supplies now running out, approached the River Ulca (where the empire ended), outriders, who had been scouting ahead, came galloping back.
‘We can go no further, Sire,’ gasped the leading scout. ‘The way is blocked. Gepids, Sire — they’ve barricaded the far bank of the Ulca.’
* A range of mountains in central Mongolia, to the north of China’s Great Wall.
† The ‘Holy Sea’ of the Mongols, Lake Baikal.
* 488.
SEVENTEEN
Set ye Uriah in the forefront of the hottest battle. . that he may be smitten, and die
Spotting Theoderic, who had ridden out to scout their position, the Gepids broke into a chorus of derisive catcalls. Contrary to Frederick’s optimistic prediction, it was obvious that the Gepids were not putting on a show of bravado, but were determined to deny passage to the Ostrogoths. The king’s heart sank. The Gepids were entrenched in force behind a system of barricades surmounting the steep western bank of the Ulca, below which the river flowed sluggishly, more marsh than stream, its course delineated by a series of pools and reed-beds — the worst possible approach from which to mount an assault. Half concealed as they were behind their defences, it was hard to estimate the Gepids’ strength, but Theoderic thought they must number many thousands of hostile warriors. It was going to be extremely difficult to dislodge them from such a strong position. But unless they were removed the consequences for the Ostrogoths would be serious. With food supplies virtually exhausted, any delay would spell starvation.
What on earth had caused the Gepids to get fired up? Theoderic wondered, as he cantered back to the encampment through pasture overlooked by vineyards. To put on such a show of force, they must consider the Ostrogoths a threat — which made no sense at all. By now, all the world must know that the Ostrogoths’ objective was Italy and not Pannonia; armed confrontation must inevitably result in a bloody battle with enormous casualties. Why would the Gepids risk that, when all they had to do was wait until the Ostrogoths had passed beyond their territory?
*
On reaching the Amal camp, Theoderic was accosted by a concerned-looking Timothy.