It is said that any Roman legion is prepared to march to war within a dozen shakes of a barbarian’s spear; that the legions were always alert, ready, and expectant of a good fight, and could be in the field before any barbarian horde could rustle-up their full strength because of the legions iron discipline and rigidly efficient organisation. Stories abounded in Rome of barbarian armies being caught unawares in the early light of dawn, emerging from their primitive hovels as their warriors were still recovering from celebrating the night before, only to see the lines of men, clad in Roman steel, bearing down on their position, days, if not weeks earlier than expected.
Well, if this was true, it was not with any legion I’d ever served with, and Varus’ German legions were no exception. The Roman camp was in a state of complete upheaval as their governor’s unexpected orders were put into action and the army prepared to march against the Angrivarii. Everywhere, messengers were running back and forth with new orders, whilst legionaries were busy packing, cleaning and repairing items for the march. Those not busy were soon seized upon by prowling centurions and given something to do, meaning that the men made sure they looked as busy as possible: nobody wanted to be given one of the unsavoury tasks customary for slackers –the clearing of the latrines, or mucking out the cavalry stables.
There was a lot to do; for the last few weeks, the camp officers had been preparing to send everything back to the winter quarters of Aliso, escorted by the full army, ready for a relaxing few months locked up behind their camp walls before the winter snows hit. Now they were having to change these plans and prepare the men to march into the German interior with only their weapons and marching rations for a short campaign, whilst the rest of the army’s equipment was sent back to Aliso under an escort of auxiliaries. Very little was being left within the army camp, as only one cohort was staying to secure the empty base; this was only a token force as the real security of the area was being guaranteed by Julius’ warriors, who promised to protect the town from any Angrivarii excursions, being in the heart of the Cherusci lands. The Roman camp would only need protecting until word came of the Angrivarii being dealt with, something Varus hoped to complete within a few short weeks, a lightning raid of speed and brute force, showing the upstart Angrivarii the true power of Rome and her legions.
If the Roman camp was in a state of upheaval, it was nothing compared to the civilian town outside the camp. Most civilians were at a loss as to what their next move should be. Few wanted to take everything they owned back to Aliso with only the light protection of an auxiliary escort, after hearing of the impending war with the Angrivarii. This gave them two choices: stay in the camp and wait for the army to return, or follow the army and stay within its protection. At least a third were siding with accompanying the legions; I didn’t blame them. The march through the forest would be uncomfortable and unpleasant, but at least they were guaranteed the protection that only twenty thousand armed men of the legions could provide – the knowledge that no force in the world could stand up to three full legions and survive.
Of course, Numeria wasn’t one of them.
I gritted my teeth and tried to curb my impatience. ‘But, Numeria, at least you’ll be safe. I don’t trust this situation, or the surrounding tribesmen. Five hundred men won’t be able to secure the town. They won’t even be able to secure their own camp. You’ll be at the mercy of the German tribesmen.’
It was two days after our visit to the German camp, and the army was nearing the completion of its preparation for the march. I’d come to visit her house, to try and persuade her to accompany the army and now we argued in her home’s atrium.
Numeria turned on me, heat radiating from her eyes. ‘I’ve too much to do here. You said yourself you wanted me to return to Rome. Well, Julia and I have decided to do that, but first we must make arrangements for my belongings to be sent back also.’
I looked around at the functional and well-made, but hardly extravagant, furnishings of her house and asked, ‘But what do you have here that can’t be easily replaced in Rome at a fraction of the cost of sending it all back?’
Numeria closed her eyes and sighed impatiently. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Gaius, you’ve never made a home anywhere. Some things just can’t be replaced.’
I looked around the atrium and tried to grasp what she meant. ‘What? What here can’t be replaced? I see nothing your father couldn’t replace within a heartbeat of you returning home.’
Numeria snapped at me. ‘This isn’t about my father!’
My temper flared. ‘Then what is it?’
Numeria turned her back on me. ‘Everything Otho and I had together remains in this house. If I leave it all, I leave behind all I had with him.’
Oh by the gods, not Otho again. I shook my head. ‘This is madness, Numeria, you must see that? The town’s position isn’t as safe as we all presumed. The German tribesmen, their mood has changed, their blood isup, and it is going to come to a fight soon.’
Numeria spun on her heels. ‘You’ve no need to tell me the mood of the German tribesmen. I visit them daily. I know their frustrations with Rome, and their anger.’
I wondered when she’d make a reference to her ludicrous visits to the German villages! I put my hands on my hips and stared down at her. ‘Look, I know you think you’re safe here amongst the Cherusci, but even Julius didn’t realise the number of traitors he had in his own tribe. You can no longer trust them. Come with the army, stay under her protection. Bring Julia too. Think of her safety as well.’
Numeria gave a twisted smile, one which held no warmth. ‘Bring Julia along? Would you like to ask her yourself? I doubt very much she’ll be pleased to see you again after the last night you spent together.’
I had heard enough about that particular night. I picked up a small statue of Aphrodite, and flung it at the wall, smashing it into a thousand shards. ‘For the last time, nothing happened that night! I don’t care what lies she has told you, I never touched her. Marcus never believed me either and now he is dead. Dead, because I got drunk once and took her back to my room. I am sorry for what I did, more sorry than you could ever know. I lost a friend because of that mistake, and I hate myself for it. Don’t lecture me any more on the subject.’ I sat down heavily on a small stool and bowed my head in my hands, feeling tears spring up between my closed eyelids. ‘I made a mistake. I never meant to hurt anyone.’
There was silence between us; I didn’t know what more I could say. I just sat there with my head in my hands, not knowing what she thought of me, and no longer caring. I’d come to her because I didn’t want anyone else I cared about to come to harm, but it looked like I’d fallen so far in her eyes she no longer believed a word I said.
Eventually she laid a cool hand on my shoulder and said softly. ‘I know nothing happened between you and Julia – she told me a few nights later. I should have let you know that I knew the truth, but I didn’t…I guess because I was still angry…angry that you’d taken her to your room. I’m sorry, Gaius, sorry that Marcus died. I know how much you cared for him.’
I shook my head in sorrow. ‘He died hating me.’
Numeria pulled up another stool and sat next to me. She spoke to me in a soft soothing voice. ‘Oh, I doubt that, Gaius. I’m sorry you blame yourself for his death, but it is often the case that those who remain living feel guilty for doing so.’ She put an arm around my shoulder. ‘Julia feels the same way. She hasn’t left her room since she heard of Marcus’s death. She cries tears of remorse and loss, but also bitterly regrets her role in his parting. But in truth, neither of you were to blame.’
Tears were still running down my face, which I cradled in my hands to obscure my weakness. ‘How so? If it wasn’t for him seeing us that morning, he’d have never gone on that patrol.’
Numeria shook her head slowly. ‘I don’t pretend to have known Marcus as well as you or Julia, but from the limited time I spent with him, even I could tell he was eager to prove himself, that he’d never be satisfied until he’d proved himself in battle in some way. It was only a question of time until he found an excuse to leave the camp and volunteer himself for some dangerous mission. You and Julia simply gave him that excuse, nothing more. He would have found a way eventually anyway.’ She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of my head soothingly. ‘I know it is difficult not to see yourself as the cause of his death, but really, neither you or Julia were to blame. It is all too easy for the guilt of survival to turn to self-recrimination.’
‘What do you know of it?’ I asked gruffly, embarrassed by my tears and admission.
Numeria turned away from me and stared the opposite wall. ‘I met Otho in an empty theatre on the Quirinal Hill only four years ago in Rome, but it feels like a lifetime ago.’
I hadn’t a clue what Otho had to do with the death of Marcus, but I let Numeria continue. It sounded like she had something she needed to confide.
Tears appeared on Numeria’s face as she continued. ‘I was visiting a friend who was taking part in the performance, and I visited her during their rehearsal. On the theatre seat sat Otho, all alone, completely transfixed by the play. I went over to speak to him, to ask him why he didn’t wish to see them in the real performance later that night, rather than in a rehearsal, which was frequently interrupted by mistakes, forgotten lines, and other mishaps.’ Her face brightened and a smile appeared. ‘He turned his thoughtful, sensitive eyes to me, and told me that the performance was all the more real for those mistakes; it was only during the rehearsal, when the actors didn’t wear the Greek masks, and they weren’t surrounded by the baying patrons, that he could lose himself in the story.’
‘Well, it wasn’t long until I lost myself to him. Completely and utterly. I loved him, but he was only from the equestrian class, not the senatorial like me. Our marriage shouldn’t have been allowed, but I begged and pleaded with my father, night after night, until he eventually relented.’
I imagined the stir their wedding would have caused amongst the gossips of Rome. Even my sister, a great friend of Numeria, had felt only pity for her marrying below her class.
Numeria bowed her head. ‘I was so happy on our wedding day, and even our time together in Rome. But it was less easy for Otho. He hated the fact that everyone talked about us, and that they viewed me little better than a fallen woman now. He felt that he had ruined me, and that only by improving his standing in Rome could he improve mine. He wasn’t of sufficient standing to make any inroads in politics, was never one for trade or business, so he came across the idea of joining the legions. His equestrian class was still high enough to qualify him as a tribune, and with my father’s help, he could gain a posting high up the chain of command. He told me that only in the legions could his standing improve sufficiently to quieten the city’s wagging tongues and become a worthy husband to me.’
I nodded my head in agreement. Otho wouldn’t be the first man to rise through the social classes through his prowess in the field.
Numeria’s eyes took on that faraway look again. ‘I forbade him at first, telling him he was unsuited to life as a soldier – he was a slight man, Gaius, he didn’t look as if he was carved out of marble like yourself – but he was thoughtful and intelligent. He told me that what he lacked in physical prowess, he could more that make up for by using his wits and his sharp mind. Eventually, I agreed, on condition that I could join him in his posting, as I couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him for three to four years. As we left Rome together, it seemed such an adventure, we were finally free of the constraints of Rome’s social structure, and we would carve out a life for ourselves in the provinces of the empire. The journey to Germany was hard, but nothing that either of us couldn’t bear. We had each other, and that was all that seemed to matter.
‘It was when we reached Germany that things changed for the worse.’
Numeria squeezed her eyes shut, through pain at the memories, but steeled herself and continued. ‘We were initially made welcome by Governor Varus and the other officers, and were delighted to settle into the new town Varus was constructing here, but once Otho started his military duties the problems started. Otho tried his best to be a good soldier but he was terrified by the dark forests and the wild tribesmen, constantly worrying that he would come under attack or ambush from the woods. I told him he was worrying too much, but each night he returned to me, he would shake and tremble from fear. I was still proud of him. I knew he was afraid, but each day he’d buckle on his armour, return to the camp and try and do his best. He came up with good ideas –plans to improve the camp’s irrigation and sewerage –but all these successes were overshadowed by his apparent failing in the field. He was clumsy at best in the training field, and when he led the men out on patrol, he told me they began to sense his fear. Before long, he lost the respect of the men altogether. It started off with petty things: questioning his orders, laughing behind his back just out of hearing, but soon each day became a nightmare for my Otho.’
I nodded in understanding. The legionaries could be cruel to weak officers. It may seem harsh, but the men knew that any failings of their superior officers could lead to them losing their lives: pity had no place in the legions.
Tracks of tears ran down Numeria’s face. ‘Soon the other officers started to make jokes about Otho. He lost the respect of the entire high command. None of his suggestions were taken seriously, no matter how well thought out. They thought him a coward, and therefore his opinion no longer mattered.’ Numeria’s face hardened. ‘It was so unfair! Yes, Otho was scared. But each day he faced up to those fears and led men outside the camp into the forests. Surely that proved him braver than someone who merely lacked the wit to understand the danger they were placing themselves in? I grew angry, not at Otho, but at the other officers who were making my husband’s life a misery. I complained to Varus personally, without Otho’s knowledge. That turned out to be a mistake. Varus merely shrugged and told me that he couldn’t dictate how the other men felt about my husband. Otho was furious the night he found out about my intervention. That night was the only time Otho ever raised his voice at me, shouting at me that now everything would be worse. Once the men found out about his wife having to stick up for him, they’d never let him forget it…’
I didn’t say anything. What could I say? Of course she’d done the wrong thing. It would obviously make Otho a laughing stock, but she knew that now. I just held her hand so she could continue.
‘Soon after that, they left the camp for the summer’s campaign against the Angrivarii. Otho barely spoke to me before he left, no matter how many times I tried to apologise. It was on that campaign that Otho’s nerve finally failed him. I can never be sure, but did he only volunteer to lead those men along that river because of what I’d done? Was it the only way he felt he could rid himself of the dishonour I’d served him? After Varus ordered Otho to take his own life, I hated him, and all the other officers who looked down on my Otho, but I also hated myself. Was I the cause of my own husband’s death? Did he die because he was trying to prove something to me?’
Numeria broke down in great wracking sobs of tears. I was still unsure what I could say, so I simply held her in my arms, letting her cry on my shoulder. I longed to tell Numeria that Otho wasn’t alone, he wasn’t the only man to feel that all-encompassing terror that leads you to run from battle or to desert comrades in need, that I also shared the same weakness, but I couldn’t. For so many years I had held that secret to myself, that now I just couldn’t admit to it, not even to Numeria, the one person in the world who wouldn’t judge me lacking because of it. I let her cry, and then gave a small kiss on the top of her head. ‘Thank you for telling me about Otho. I wish I could have met him.’
Numeria nodded her head whilst wiping her eyes. ‘He was a good man.’
I stood up from my stool. ‘Yes, I think you’re right. In any other life, the two of you could have been happy, it was just a tragedy that you both ended up here.’
She bowed her head. ‘I can’t think on what could have been. It’s too painful, Gaius.’
I lowered my eyes. ‘Yes, I can see that. But please, Numeria, don’t dismiss your own safety because of what happed to Otho. Your life is too precious to me and it should be to you too. Come with the army, you’ll be safe with us.’
Numeria shook her head. ‘No, I won’t accompany Varus and those other fools. But you’re right, Gaius, there is nothing for me here now. I will pack only the bare essentials for me and Julia and leave on the last military escort back to Aliso. We’ll be safe there.’
It wasn’t what I wanted but I guessed it was the best I was going to get. She should be safe enough in Aliso; that was far enough away from both Angrivarii and Cherusci land, and at least she’d have a military escort of auxiliaries to take her there. I nodded my head. ‘All right, but I’ll leave my two horses for you. One is mine and the other belonged to Marcus. You can pick them up from the inn I’m staying at. I want you to have a fast horse under you, at the very least.’
Numeria smiled but protested, ‘I have my own horses.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, I remember your show pony! Fast enough, but she’d never have the stamina of my two Libyans. Take them. If nothing else, it might put my mind at rest knowing that you’re on two of the fastest horses in the region. I can pick up another mount from the military camp.’
Numeria gave a small laugh. ‘All right, if you insist. But I want you to take care of yourself as well, Gaius. Don’t get yourself killed trying to do something brave on this expedition of Varus’.’
I leant my hand on her shoulder. ‘No chance of that, Numeria.’ I kissed her again on the forehead and left her sitting there, still thinking of the dead husband she had lost to this harsh land.
I left her house and returned to the military camp relieved that I no longer needed to worry too much about Numeria. She would soon be back in the safety of Aliso and would then be able to return to Rome. Now I just needed to look after myself.