The Roman legionaries marched with grim purpose, heavy mailshirts clinking in time to the measured step of the march; each man’s face etched with determination. Word had spread through the ranks about the deaths of their comrades, and these men were now angry, wanting to find those responsible. We marched with two full cohorts, both from Vala’s XVIII legion, and our force was supplemented by a cohort of Julius’ auxiliary cavalry, riding with the same expression of grim resolve on their faces – they knew if it came to a fight, they would be facing their own countrymen, something none of them would relish, but something their expression told they wouldn’t shirk from. At the head of the column was Governor Varus, changed out of his customary toga and now fully armoured, eyes burning with fury, riding alongside Numonius Vala, Julius, and I. Varus’ focus was on the forest trail, but he asked. ‘Do you think he will still be there when we arrive?’
Julius shrugged. ‘He has no reason to suspect we are on to him. I don’t see why he wouldn’t be.’
Varus snorted. ‘May the gods will that you’re right. If he escapes into the forest, we may never find him.’
Julius raised his hand. ‘Hold on, I have an idea.’ He beckoned over one of his troopers, a man I recognised from my time in their camp, and spoke to him rapidly in their own tongue. The man then rode ahead of the column and Julius explained. ‘I have given him orders to go to the camp ahead of us, but not to announce our coming. Faramund is an excellent tracker. I’ve told him that if Segestes leaves, to track him secretly, just in case Segestes gets wind of us coming.’
Varus nodded. ‘A wise precaution. I don’t want that traitor getting away.’
The rest of the march was in silence, each man keeping his thoughts to himself. The prospect of this march ending in bloodshed concentrated everyone’s minds.
My thoughts were of Marcus. Did he die hating me? He’d sent the messenger Vettius to me, knowing that I would realise the significance of what he’d seen, but did that mean he’d put aside his animosity to me? I’d never know now, but somehow it was still important to me – did he hate me to the end?
When we came upon the camp, Governor Varus halted the column. ‘Is there another entrance to the camp?’
Julius responded, ‘Yes, of course, we have another set of gates to the north.’
Varus commanded, ‘Send your cavalry round to seal that entrance, I want no one getting out. You stay with me. I don’t want your warriors getting the wrong idea and attacking us in ignorance.’
Julius nodded, and relayed the orders to the auxiliaries, who rode off at a fast canter to the far side of the camp. Varus then nodded to Numonius Vala who signalled the legionaries forward through the open gates of the Cherusci and past the dumb struck sentries, who were at a loss as to what to do until Julius signalled to them that there was no reason to be alarmed.
As we marched through the camp, Germanic warriors watched us in confusion, whilst woman hurried their children inside, not knowing what this armed presence could mean. Julius’ presence amongst us prevented the warriors from taking up arms, but they were still obviously wary of this many Roman soldiers entering their camp. When we reached the centre of the camp, we joined up with Julius’ cavalry, who had sealed the far gates as ordered.
‘Segestes!’ Varus bellowed, still sitting on his horse outside the main Cherusci long house. ‘Somebody bring me Segestes!’
We didn’t have to wait long. The large tribesman came out of the long house, beard and hair unbound, his great barrel chest puffed out as usual, in mail and furs. ‘Governor Varus, what brings you here?’ he asked cagily, obviously realising that this was no ordinary social visit.
Varus got straight to the point. ‘Your son has turned traitor, Segestes. We’re here to ascertain whether you knew of this and are also a traitor.’
Segestes eyes popped at that. ‘What? Traitor! Never!’
I spoke up. ‘Your son was seen leading men who helped butcher the peace delegation we sent to the Angrivarii.’
Segestes shook his head. ‘Butchering a peace delegation? Who saw him? He lies.’
‘The man in question died after delivering the news, but he confirmed your son was amongst the Angrivarii who attacked them. Did you know of this?’ I demanded. We’d been informed of Vettius’ demise by the camp surgeon, just prior to leaving the camp. It wasn’t a surprise judging by the condition we’d found him in, but it was an added spur of anger against this traitorous chieftain.
Segestes spat on the floor. ‘You condemn me on the word of a dead man? Pah!’ He looked up at the governor, ‘I know nothing of this.’
Others were now emerging from the German long house: Julius’ uncle Inguiomerus, Segestes son-in-law Sesithacus, and also his wife Thusnelda – who hissed on seeing so many Roman soldiers in the Cherusci camp.
‘What brings these soldiers here?’ demanded Inguiomerus, his stare frosty and malevolent.
Julius explained. ‘They come with my authority, Uncle.’ Julius dismounted his horse, and several of his troopers did likewise. ‘Ewald has been seen with the Angrivarii. There have been many deaths. We must get to the bottom of this.’
Segestes’ daughter was the next to speak, her voice full of scorn and venom. ‘What insult is this? A Roman force in our own camp? Next you will agree to let them search our own homes! What do you think, Father, will you let them search yours?’
Segestes shouted at his daughter. ‘Silence, woman. If this situation isn’t bad enough, I don’t need your bile.’ He spoke to Sesithacus. ‘Take your woman away and out of my sight.’
Sesithacus tried to comply, taking his wife by the arm, but she pulled it away. ‘Don’t touch me, worm. You’ve no right to touch me!’
‘Enough!’ shouted Julius. ‘Be gone from here, your presence isn’t wanted.’
Thusnelda spat on the ground, then spun on her heels, re-entering the long house after giving her husband one more hateful glance.
Julius breathed out heavily. ‘Thank the gods she has gone. But let us do as she says,’
Varus turned to Julius, ‘What do you mean?’
Julius shrugged. ‘Let’s search Segestes house. If he is innocent, he won’t have anything to hide.’
Segestes didn’t like the sound of this. ‘Search my long house, like a common criminal? You push me too far, my king. You can’t expect me to accept this humiliation.’
Inguiomerus intervened. ‘What harm can it do? You said yourself you know nothing of this.’
Segestes looked startled that Inguiomerus was siding with Julius. ‘Does my word count for nothing?’
Varus barked a laugh. ‘About as much as your son’s. Enough of this. Vala, order some men to search his long house. You!’ he pointed at one of Julius’auxiliaries, ‘Show my men where Segestes house is.’
A centurion and ten legionaries went to search Segestes residence whilst we waited. It wasn’t long before they returned, and they carried something with them. ‘We found this, my lord,’ proclaimed the centurion handing Varus a rolled-up scroll.
Varus took it and unfurled it. He explained what it was. ‘This is the peace proclamation I put into the hands of our envoy Paullinus myself. You can see it has been signed by my own hands.’ He turned it around so everyone could see the damning evidence. ‘There can be no doubt – you are a traitor, Segestes.’
It didn’t take long for the giant Segestes to react. He turned to run, pushing a legionary out of his way as easily as a child throwing away a discarded toy doll, and then shoulder charged another, clearing his path so he could sprint down the main concourse towards the northern gates.
‘Stop him!’ bellowed Varus, face red with anger.
Julius signalled to two of his mounted auxiliaries, who quickly ran Segestes down, one of them striking the rebel chieftain’s back with the blunt butt of his heavy spear, which sent the man sprawling to the ground. The two burly cavalry troopers then dismounted and dragged the still struggling Segestes back to Varus, bellowing in rage against his captors. ‘Unhand me you dogs! Romanised filth, you’re no Cherusci!’
The impassive troopers flung Segestes to the ground before the mounted Varus, who looked down at the large chieftain, face and unbound hair now covered in the dirt from the muddied street. ‘So, Segestes, what do you have to say for yourself?’ The governor asked him.
Segestes was breathing heavily, anger at his humiliating position clear in his voice. ‘I’m no traitor, these charges are all lies.’ He shot a glance of pure hatred at his king, my friend Julius. ‘There is your traitor, Governor. Arminius has been preaching against your occupation, it is he who plans to betray you.’
This startled Varus, who turned his head to Julius and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Julius simply shrugged. ‘Well, what do you expect him to say?’
Varus gave a crooked smile and nodded his head, before turning to the other German chieftain present, Julius’ uncle Inguiomerus. ‘Can you shed any light on either of these claims?’
Inguiomerus looked down at the dishevelled Segestes, then up to Governor Varus, a stoic mask surrounding his flint-hard eyes. ‘It is clear that Segestes has turned traitor and betrayed us to the Angrivarii. We apologise for this. He and all the other traitors will be dealt with.’
Varus bellowed a laugh. ‘We will deal with Segestes ourselves. He can expect a long and painful death once I’ve returned him to my camp.’
Segestes sprung upwards and lunged at the governor, hands reaching to claw his face, before the two auxiliaries grabbed his arms and pinned him to the ground, and before a third came over and struck his head with a spear butt to his temple, knocking him senseless.
Inguiomerus was the first to speak. ‘It should be us who deal with this traitor, not Roman law. A deal with our ancient enemies, the Angrivarii, is a betrayal of all our Cherusci values.’
Julius turned to the governor. ‘He is right, my lord. We need to be the ones who clear up this treasonous nest. If you take Segestes and kill him, you will bring sympathy to his cause.’
Varus spat in anger. ‘Pah! I need this man’s head for what he has done.’
‘And you’ll have it,’ promised Julius, ‘but let us do it our way. He will be tried by all the tribal chieftains, all his followers rounded up, and you’ll have their heads by the morning.’ Julius looked over at his uncle, ‘isn’t that right?’
Inguiomerus nodded his head in agreement. ‘It shall be done, but by our own hands.’
The governor looked torn between his desire for personal vengeance, and the diplomatic solution posed by Julius and Inguiomerus. ‘This dog needs to learn the cost of crossing Rome!’ Varus said between gritted teeth – he seemed to be taking Segestes’ betrayal as a personal insult. ‘I’ll not let him escape justice.’
I realised Varus was being blinded by his anger. ‘He won’t escape justice, governor. What do we care how he dies? If Julius can do it for us, all the better.’ I tried to reassure him, ‘We needn’t return to our camp – we can stay nearby and wait for it to be done.’ I didn’t relish the prospect of spending a night in the open, but I knew it was the only way the stubborn governor would be placated – Varus was set on returning with Segestes’ head, or not at all.
Numonius Vala came to my aid. ‘Cassius is right, my lord. It will look much better to the other tribes if the Cherusci rid their people of their own traitors rather than seeing us do it. It shows we value their sovereignty in internal matters.’
Varus turned on Vala. ‘Do you think Paullinus would have considered this an internal matter?’
Vala lowered his head. ‘No, my lord. But neither do I think his shade would care who wields the knife of vengeance on his behalf.’
Finally, Varus relented. With a great sigh, he turned to Julius and said, ‘Me and my men will camp outside your gates this night. I expect his head in the morning, otherwise I’ll return with all three of my legions and take it myself.’
Both Julius and Inguiomerus nodded in agreement, their expressions solemn.
Varus turned his horse and we all followed, leaving the Germans to administer their own punishment to the unconscious traitor Segestes, who still lay sprawled on the ground.
We camped immediately outside the gates, which were closed to us after leaving, on a patch of level ground. Centurions kept the men in files, keeping the men alert, but there was no need. None of us would have been able to sleep this night. From behind the closed gates rose the sound of fighting, as Segestes supporters first heard of their chieftain’s fate, and then were set upon by warriors loyal to Julius and Inguiomerus. Flames sprung up from behind the dark wicker walls, signifying the burning of rebel warrior’s long houses, and these were accompanied by terrified screams, as the men’s wives and children were burnt alive alongside their husbands. I felt sick to my stomach hearing the sound, and judging by the stricken faces of my fellow officers, I wasn’t alone. Roman justice could be harsh, but we had nothing on the Germans. I prayed to the gods that I’d never find myself at the mercy of these barbaric animals. I shuddered to think that it was Julius who was instigating this purge; that it was my friend who was leading this blood-letting just the other side of the silent walls standing between Rome and her principal ally. The burden of leadership is said to change men, and if this gruesome display told me anything, it told me that Julius had changed from the civilised principled young man I’d known before. I didn’t blame him, this purge of the traitors was needed, had been insisted upon by Rome, and I was in no position to judge others about the difficult decisions leadership put on men: I was a failed coward – Julius was made of sterner stuff.
A soft rain started as dawn broke, leaving a damp smell of ash in the air as the gates to the Cherusci camp were finally opened. A lone rider emerged, on a great white stallion, in full armour and winged helmet. It was Julius, and he held something in his hand. He rode slowly up to the waiting Varus, who stood with his hands on his hips, chest puffed out, stern expression on his normally placid face. Numonius Vala and I stood either side of him, and our legionaries stood behind us in strict military lines.
Julius halted his horse and threw his burden at the feet of the governor. It rolled through the mud, before turning and revealing the face of Segestes, former warrior of the Cherusci. ‘There’s your traitor, my lord. Rome no longer has any enemies in my camp. All his followers have been taken care of.’
Varus looked down at the decapitated head. ‘You’re sure there are no others?’
Julius tilted his head. ‘I have only been able to take care of the ones with me here. Segestes had many warriors loyal to him. They’ll be allied with the Angrivarii now, no doubt under the leadership of Ewald.’
Varus looked up at him. ‘And when will they be brought to justice?’
Julius gave a crooked grin. ‘I cannot take on the Angrivarii alone. After this, war between the two nations is inevitable, but with the help of Segestes’ warriors, the Angrivarii now outnumber me – it is a war in which I cannot win.’
This startling admission unsettled Varus, but he ground his teeth and then spat on the ground. ‘Outnumbered, you say? Cannot win? I think my three legions will have something to say about that. Tell me, how many warriors can you muster in three days?’
Julius shrugged. ‘I can have at least twenty thousand warriors gathered here and ready for war. But it won’t be enough to take on the Angrivarii – they will have three times that number. For me to muster my full strength it will take weeks as warriors come in from the far-lying districts.’
Varus shook his head. ‘We don’t have weeks. Twenty thousand will be plenty. Added to my legions that gives us more than enough strength. We will still be outnumbered, but what we have will be sufficient.’
Numonius Vala furrowed his forehead. ‘How so, governor? What do you plan?’
Publius Quinctilius Varus gave a smile. ‘You ought to be pleased, Vala. You have been asking me to do this all summer. We march to war with the Angrivarii and their traitorous allies!’