“Speak freely,” said Marcus, eyeing the centurion pointedly. “I want to hear your opinion.”
“Well, something is up, sir. Looks to me like they’re planning a fight.”
“I think so, too,” said Marcus. “Arminius is making his move.” He turned and strode away, leaving Adrianus to complete his report to Fabius.
The real danger now, Marcus told himself, was not from the Germans. They were poorly armed, poorly armored, and generally undisciplined on the battlefield. The danger was in the attitude of Governor Varus, who was being reckless enough to invite disaster despite the many advantages that the Roman army possessed.
This time, Marcus did not simply want to run up to the governor like a panicked new recruit. He had apparently lost some of Governor Varus’s respect already over this matter. Instead, he would have to maintain his dignity and try to approach the subject casually.
Marcus joined Governor Varus at his cookfire, where Demetrius had prepared their noonday meal. Jane and Gene were just sitting down on a couple of large rocks there as well, accepting plates of beans fried in bacon grease. It was normal marching fare, quick and easy to prepare.
“I don’t like the look of those foul clouds,” said Governor Varus, glancing up. “Or the way the wind is coming up. We’ve had a short reprieve these last few days from the infernal rain. Now I would say we’ll get another downpour tonight or tomorrow. What do you think, Marcus?”
Marcus took his plate from Demetrius and looked up. “Yes, Governor. I think a storm is building. The winds through these mountains are unpredictable, though. I would say, it will hit us tomorrow.”
Governor Varus nodded, chewing, then swallowed. “Gene, what do you think?”
“Uh-we don’t have mountains like this where I’m from,” said Gene. “But it looks like rain again soon.”
Governor Varus nodded. “Marcus, I hope I have not been too hard on you about these Germans.”
“Well, sir-I know I haven’t been here as long as you have. One of our patrols returned just now with some information, however.”
“Mm?” The governor’s mouth was full.
“They found that the fighting men have left the villages.” Instead of pressing his argument, Marcus paused to eat for a moment.
Jane and Gene looked at each other.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Governor Varus said to them. “They’re probably out hunting.”
“Our patrol spotted some of them,” said Marcus. “They were sneaking through the forest overland, off the road, moving up ahead of us.”
“Maybe they have good hunting grounds that way,” said Jane. Her voice was quiet, oddly timid.
“Oh, I suppose there may be some troublemakers among them,” said Governor Varus. “All of Rome’s many subject peoples get restless from time to time. That doesn’t mean they can mount a serious rebellion.”
“It might be worth checking out,” said Marcus, looking at the governor hopefully.
“Our patrols should be sufficient,” said Governor Varus. “After all, they brought back this information. They can handle it.”
“It wouldn’t hurt-” Marcus began. “No, no. You see, this province is virtually an extension of Gaul.” The Governor turned to Gene. “How long has Gaul been conquered, now?”
“About half a century,” said Gene.
“And have you seen any objection to Roman rule there in your lifetime?”
“Well, no. I haven’t.” He smiled slightly.
“The Germans are also subjugated,” said Governor Varus. “I expect in a few years we will be ready to press eastward, to conquer the land beyond the Elbe River.” He shrugged, and continued eating.
“May I have the commander of the patrol report directly to you, sir?” Marcus asked. “Maybe if-”
“No!” Governor Varus tossed aside his empty plate and stood up. “Tribune, I have tired of this subject. Do not bring me any officer. Do not argue with me any further. You are expressly forbidden from discussing any changes in marching orders with regular officers or interfering with existing army directives of any kind in any way. And if you have any questions for the Germans, you may ask them tonight! The matter is closed!” He waved a hand in dismissal.
Marcus stood up, his appetite gone. As Demetrius began cleaning up, Marcus turned to Gene and Jane. “What do you think? Based on what you heard?”
“Uh-” Caught off guard, Gene looked at Jane and shrugged. “Well…I’m a trader, not a soldier.”
“I’m not asking you as a soldier,” said Marcus. “ Just as someone who has overheard what I told the governor. What do you think?”
“I think,” Jane said slowly, “that the governor should respect your opinions more.”
Marcus was startled. “Well-thank you. But do you think I’m being reckless?”
“Did the men in the advance patrol share your opinion?” Gene asked.
“Yes, at least their field commander did. His superior didn’t.”
“I’m sure you know your business,” Gene said carefully. “I’m sorry you can’t get the governor to listen to you.”
“Me, too,” said Jane, with a tight little smile.
Marcus nodded. “Well…thank you for the thought.
It’s time to mount up.”
“What did he mean about asking the Germans questions tonight?” Jane asked.
Marcus took his reins from the groom. “It means that we are feasting with some of their leaders tonight, in camp. Probably Prince Arminius himself, among others.” He shook his head in disgust and mounted.
19
When Steve rose the next morning, he kept close to Vicinius and said very little. The village was in a warlike mood; even early in the morning, the warriors sat by the cookfires tending their weapons, scraping the shafts of their spears smooth and sharpening their knives and their few swords on rocks. Steve could do nothing at this stage but wait for Hunter to come back for him.
As the morning wore on, Steve still sat by the fire near Vicinius’s hut, watching the groups of warriors. After Steve finished eating, he still did not want to risk doing anything that would attract attention to himself. Chief Odover walked among the warriors, talking quietly and nodding approval when they showed him their weapons.
Vicinius spoke to them for a while, but then returned to his fire. He sat down with Steve and he used a small stone to sharpen his spear point. No one else came near them.
“Are you going to war today?” Steve asked quietly, watching Vicinius patiently slide the stone across the metal with a regular, steady motion.
“Today or tonight, I think,” said Vicinius. “My father told me a little while ago that Prince Arminius will send someone to get us. He is feasting with the Romans tonight.”
“He is?”
“You may remain here, of course. It is not your fight.”
Suddenly a chorus of shouts arose from the far side of the village. When Steve looked up, he saw the warriors crowding around Hunter as he emerged from the trees, his head and shoulders visible over the shorter Germans. The warriors were shouting angrily at him.
“Hey!” Vicinius leaped up and ran toward them. “Hunter is my guest here, remember?”
Steve hesitated, watching the others. Then he decided that staying close to Hunter was a good idea. He walked forward slowly, following Vicinius.
The warriors were dragging Hunter forward now, shouting at him. Steve knew that Hunter could pull away from them if he wanted, but he would not leave Steve alone in a hostile atmosphere. Finally the warriors shoved Hunter toward Vicinius.
“Your friends are spies!” One of the warriors pointed angrily at Vicinius.
“Watch your tongue, Sigismund,” said Vicinius, standing with Hunter in front of Steve.
“He came from the direction of the Roman camp!” Sigismund jabbed his spear point into the ground. “Some of us were out looking for more branches to use as spear shafts, and we saw him coming!”
Most of the warriors began yelling again, but Odover approached them and stood Quietly between Vicinius and Sigismund. Everyone Quieted, waiting to see what the village chief would say. He turned to Hunter.
“The Question is a good one,” said Odover patiently. “Tell us where you spent the night. Were you with the Romans?”