…his hatred augmented privately because his daughter, though betrothed to another, had been snatched by Arminius… (Tacitus)
Arminius sighed and rested his chin on my shoulder, though the hunch in his back couldn’t have been comfortable.
“Are you absolutely certain I can’t convince you to stay with my uncle?”
“Yes.”
We rode back to the festival village atop a plodding horse, neither of us in any particular hurry to return.
I softened under his concern, but imposing myself on Ingomar was out of the question. Not that staying with him would do much to spare me from Segestes’ wrath. No, it only meant my father had a slightly longer walk to reach me. It was better for me to return home with the added protection of being Arminius’ wife. If I couldn’t face my family, how was I to face Rome?
It was still hard to think of our marriage without smiling like a loon. The little girl I’d once been beamed with satisfaction to have gotten what she wanted after so many long, lonely years. Arminius was proving to be an excellent husband. He saw to my every need, heating water for a hot bath every night, which we we shared. I had to stop him from hand feeding me every meal. It was simply too time-consuming when we had better things to do.
We spent the last few days of the festival wrapped in our own cocoon, and I loathed the return home. Ermin had come that morning, declaring Arminius must return at once, under Varus’ order. Neither of us liked the sound of that.
I much preferred staying in our tent, visited only by Jotapa when she brought fresh victuals. And we required much sustenance to keep up with our activities. Arminius was insatiable, almost as insatiable as me. If I wasn’t pregnant yet, there was something wrong with my womb.
He skimmed my hip every time we passed each other as we packed away our little nest. We seldom stopped touching each other now that we were free to.
Jotapa and a few of Arminius’ trusted auxiliaries helped strike the tent and load the bedding into a small cart. They’d only brought one extra horse, no doubt at Arminius’ instruction.
He wanted us seen riding back together, by all and sundry in a simple declaration: Arminius and Thusnelda were one, their battle king and queen united.
Jotapa shot me yet another wry smile and giggle while she stowed the plates and cups we’d used that morning. She’d say nothing with so many men around, but her mischievous eyes spoke clearly enough. She bore the same look each time she delivered food and removed our used dishes. If I didn’t get her alone and let her pepper me with questions soon, I feared she’d erupt.
It was a brief ride back, thankfully, as I sat across Arminius’ lap in an egregious display of our relationship. The damned man preened like a puffed up bird as we entered the festival grounds and people stopped their packing to stare.
As they did last year, legionaries made their rounds, gutting people of their winter necessities. If the rumors were true, many had hidden the bulk of their food, animals, and timber. Good. Soon they wouldn’t have to worry about these vultures picking them clean.
A few of the legionaries tapped each other and pointed to us like we were a one-horse parade. Word traveled quickly. That, or Arminius hadn’t been shy about his intentions. Both situations were equally likely.
My husband was too cheeky for his own good. As his wife, it was now officially my job to keep him in check. I smiled to myself at the thought.
We rode straight through to Varus’ expansive tent on the assumption this meeting had everything to do with our secretive wedding. Before I dismounted, I heard Segestes’ raised voice.
A sentry posted outside straightened when we approached. He spun into the tent door to announce us. Arminius didn’t wait for the poor man to finish.
Segestes was so red in the face, he looked purple. Veins bulged in his neck. All he needed was a little foam around his mouth, and I’d believe him rabid. Wout accompanied him, not as red, though still vibrating with anger.
What do you even care?
Then Wout’s lips tipped ever so slightly up and his eyes radiated menace. He was viciously happy, and I did not know why beyond the simple desire to see me hurt. For the space of a breath, I forgot my happiness over my marriage. All that remained was the brother I’d once looked up to sneering at me and my husband, gleeful to take part in our destruction.
The same inner child who delighted in her dreams coming true with Arminius shriveled under Wout’s scorn.
“This man,” Segestes pointed a shaking finger at Arminius, “stole my daughter the night before she was to wed another. He has violated her and my alliance with the Chatti.”
Varus sported the tight countenance of a man whose patience ran thin.
“Arminius, your new father-in-law has leveled several serious allegations against you today.” He took a sip from his wine and frowned at the gilded cup. “Care to address any of them before we get started?”
Arminius tucked his arms to the small of his back in what I assumed was a posture of deference. “I can address the specious lie that I stole Thusnelda; however, without hearing the other charges against me, I’m afraid I don’t know what they are.”
My heart thumped so hard I was certain the others could hear it. A pair of slaves made themselves as unobtrusive as possible while they scurried about in the tent’s adjacent rooms, carefully stowing away the opulence Varus insisted on carting out everywhere he went.
Legatus Vala stood to Varus’ left, his face a stony mask. Centurion Eggius stood to Varus’ right.
While Varus appeared to be counting the seconds until this ended, the two soldiers kept their flint-hard eyes on Arminius. He might have won over Varus and others, but he hadn’t convinced every Roman he was trustworthy.
“Go on.” Varus waved his cup toward Segestes. “Tell him what you told me.”
My father stiffened his shoulders and tipped his chin up. “Arminius is plotting an uprising. When the legions march out—”
“Three legions,” Varus said. “How many men is that, Vala?”
“By my last count, a bit fewer than twenty thousand veteran soldiers, sir.”
“Yes, twenty thousand of Rome’s finest soldiers. Continue, Segestes.”
A bit of Segestes’ dark color paled. “Yes, Governor. He has been organizing a confederation of the tribes to assault all three legions on your winter march.”
Varus looked at Arminius. Arminius looked right back and shrugged. “What can I say, sir. I have been quite busy deviously plotting how I can get more than two tribes to agree on anything, let alone fighting under a single leader. I’ve been running them through drills to match Roman formations. Thusnelda here has been overseeing the production of shields and swords for, what is it now, wife? Thirty thousand warriors from tribes who can only stand each other long enough for one month of controlled trading and drinking?”
I gaped at him in wide-eyed horror.
He shot Varus a grin. “All this under your nose, and I stole a woman betrothed to the prince of the second strongest tribe in the region, with no regard to Germani honor and customs, because I have so thoroughly secured their disparate loyalties that they no longer care about generations of grudges. I am an impressively cunning man, as you know.”
Varus stared at him some more, then burst out laughing. He laughed so long and hard, he wiped tears from his eyes. The two Roman officers shifted uncomfortably at this display.
“Xanthes,” Varus shouted between bouts of laughter, “bring Arminius a cup of wine. Don’t water it.”
After he collected himself, he let out a long breath, and leveled his attention on Segestes.
“I understand,” he spoke slowly, enunciating each word, “that you are upset one of my men ran off and married your daughter. Normally, I would promise that I’d see Arminius flogged for his insubordination, as my men, even the local auxiliaries, are not permitted to engage in these barbaric marriage ceremonies. But I’ve learned enough about your daughter to know you have let her run wild and are now reaping that harvest. By Jupiter, if you come to me again with such a ridiculous accusation to assuage your pride, I will have you crucified. Do you understand me?”
Now it was Wout’s turn to take on that purple hue. “You have to arrest him! He’ll kill you all!”
“I have to do nothing!” Varus thundered. “I do not take orders from barbarian chiefs, and I especially do not take orders from their brats. Arminius has been a loyal servant of Rome for most of his life and a friend to me. I will address the matter of his so-called marriage with him, and that will be the last hear from any of you about it. Get the fuck out. Go back to your hovels.”
Left with no other choice, my father and brother shuffled out the door. Wout paused in the frame and sent me a look heavy with threats. I was tired of men threatening me.
Varus drummed stubby fingers against his toga-clad thigh. At length, he huffed a laugh and gave his head a rueful shake. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
Arminius shrugged one shoulder. “What can I say? We were betrothed as children. All I did was hold Segestes to our original agreement.”
“And got yourself a hellcat in the bargain.” Varus’ smile turned lascivious. My fists clenched.
“You know me. I love a challenge.” Arminius slipped an arm around my hip and tugged me closer. He knew damn well how close I was to violence.
“I know you, my boy,” Varus said. “I don’t think I need to remind you that in the eyes of Rome, this is merely a usus marriage. Nor do I need to remind you that I brought you here to help smooth my way with the tribes, not make things more difficult.”
“Apologies, sir.”
Vala cleared his throat. “Segestes leveled a serious accusation against you, Arminius, which you didn’t deny.”
The oppressive air in the tent constricted. Against my body, Arminius’ muscles went rock hard while his face kept its placid facade.
“I answered a ridiculous accusation with a ridiculous response, Legatus. As the governor said, I wounded Segestes’ pride.”
Vala rounded Varus’ seat to face Arminius directly.
“It’s not the first time I’ve heard this rumor. Far and wide, my men bring me whispers about you. The Mattiaci have been quite vocal regarding those men you killed.”
“They say you killed them when they refused to join your treacherous confederation,” Eggius said. “They say you intend to install yourself as king after you chase us back across the Rhine.”
My voice had no weight here. I spoke anyway.
“Our people see him as a traitor,” I said. “He leads tax collection and arbitration for Rome. Many wish to see him torn down, by any means necessary.”
Vala’s dark eyes locked on me, and Arminius tightened his hold.
“See,” Varus chortled, “a real hellcat. Don’t let her sex blind you, gentlemen. She’s right. Arminius is an example to many and an enemy to some. Why, when I was rising through the ranks, some of my peers spread all manner of nonsense about me. My personal favorite was the one where I was plotting to usurp Augustus by marrying his niece.”
Varus rose to clap Arminius on the shoulder, an unsubtle move forcing Vala to step back.
“When we return to Rome, I can introduce your wife to a good etiquette teacher. I can also recommend an excellent housekeeper. Something tells me that despite Thusnelda’s many impressive skills, managing a household is not one of them.”
They shook hands, and Arminius nodded graciously.
“My thanks, sir. I eagerly look forward to introducing her to the greatest city in the world.”
I forced a smile in a pale mimic of Arminius’. Varus would return to Rome, of that I was certain. We’d return his parts in a box.
* * *
Arminius glared at the longhouse.
“You should stay anywhere else.”
“It’s only for what, another month?”
The Romans always left before winter settled. A month was stretching the estimated time I had left in the home I’d known most of my life. It was a strange sort of melancholy to miss the place before I left, when I still dreaded my last days there still to come.
The coming weeks promised to be long and fraught, unless Arminius and I made a clear declaration now. I was fully prepared to face them on my own, but having him at my side eased the burden. I liked it.
“Probably less,” Arminius said. “Varus is eager to return to the relative comforts of Vetera. He won’t stop talking about the baths there.”
Less? A shiver raced up my spine. What once seemed a lifetime away could now be counted in days.
“The ramparts are all completed?”
Nonplussed by my sudden topic change, Arminius quirked a lip and said, “Yes. I personally reviewed every mile of them.”
“And the chieftains?”
He gripped my shoulders and adopted a serious, if a little patronizing, expression. “Everyone knows where they need to be. Before you say it, yes, many of them are still noncommittal about their support, but they will be there. Not one of them will miss an opportunity to scavenge for loot.”
Mollified, I nodded.
“We can’t keep putting this off.” He tipped his head toward the longhouse. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but I have thought of everything. I put the right people exactly where they need to be. The Chatti are still committed. All we’re waiting on now is Varus’ departure order.”
“Right.” I sucked my tongue across my teeth and took his hand. “Let’s get this over with.”
My home was deathly quiet inside. The central brazier burned low, hardly enough to chase out the bitter fall chill. No scalcs were present. Segestes sat on a raised chair on the dais, cleared of our usual table. To complete the eerie tableau, my brothers flanked him on both sides. Silent. Staring. Gods, how long had they sat like this waiting on us? How awkward.
The sound of Arminius pulling the door shut echoed through the hall. We walked hand in hand to the dais, and I couldn’t help feeling like a wayward child coming to accept her punishment. I reminded myself that wasn’t how this meeting was to go.
“You. Stole. My. Daughter.” Segestes’ voice cracked, as though he’d spent days yelling at the top of his lungs.
I stepped forward. “He didn’t steal me. I left.”
“You had no right—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Arminius spoke, deadly soft. “You will not be dictating to my wife anymore.”
Segestes sneered. “If you think I am going to sit back and let you destroy everything, you are mistaken. You steal my daughter. You break a treaty I have held for years. You foment a useless rebellion. It will fail. They all fail, and we will be the ones left to pay the cost. As Wodan as my witness, I will tear you apart.”
My brothers said nothing, though their collective anger was palpable. For once, I took comfort in Levin’s absence. I didn’t want him here for this or dealing with the fallout of our family’s anger.
I shoved past Arminius. Though I appreciated his help more than I ever thought possible, I didn’t need him to speak for me. He could threaten all he wanted, and it counted for nothing as soon as he left this hall. This wasn’t his fight; it was mine.
“What’s done is done, in the eyes of witnesses and the gods. The rebellion is coming, no matter what you say. I was there when Varus laughed in your face.”
Segestes said nothing, though I swore I heard his breath hitch.
“Yes, Varus laughed in your face before casting you out like a misbehaving hound,” I said. “No one listens to you anymore, Father. Not the Romans, not even the Cherusci. Arminius may not be chief, but we all know he will be when this battle is won. I am his queen. I orchestrated the survival of our allies last winter. They look to me. If I were you, I’d think carefully about how you treat me between now and then.”
I let the threat drop like a lead weight at Segestes’ feet. Between him and my brothers, save Levin, they could beat me. They could chain me up. They could kill me. Then they’d face Arminius and the Cherusci. Any move against me now started a countdown on their lives.
“This isn’t over.” Segestes repeated, more to himself than to me or Arminius. He dropped his head and exhaled slowly. When he lifted his gaze back to mine, his eyes shone with the hint of tears. “Daughter, if you do this, we will all suffer for it. Please, hear me. Let this go. We can go to Varus together—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
To my surprise, the softly spoken invective came from Levin. He fell in at my side, already dressed in his ala armor.
“You heard her,” he said. “It’s done. Give it up.”
Something about hearing it from Levin, one of his sons, broke something in Segestes that my rebellion hadn’t. His shoulders slumped. At length, he hauled himself out of his chair and shuffled to his room without looking back. Wout and Lennart looked uncertainly at each other before following.
My breath exhaled in a great whoosh, and Arminius rubbed a hand down my back.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he murmured.
I choked on a bitter laugh. True, it might have gone worse. Yet seeing my father surrender lacked the satisfaction I’d imagined it would. I hurt for him. He believed with his entire being that he was right and we were wrong. In his mind, this road led only to ruin; not just for me, or our family, but all Germani. That had to be a terrible feeling, as terrible as I felt when I saw our people in iron collars, slaving away for Rome.
“I should go,” Arminius said.
I turned to him and captured his face in my hands, tracing the familiar lines and planes I’d grown to love so dearly.
“Will I see you again? Before?”
His lips thinned. “I don’t know. I’ll try, but...”
I shook my head. “Don’t take any risks. We’re too close to victory now.”
He turned to press a kiss against my palm. Dimly, I sensed Levin take his leave of this private moment.
“Take care, wife. What I’ve asked of you is no easy feat.”
As much as I bristled at my mission, at not being present for part of the battle, I understood the significance of the task he’d given me. I’d never led a battle entirely myself before. On the surface what he asked of me was paltry, nothing more than an attempt to keep me from the worst of the fighting. It was so much more than that, though. If I failed, the entire uprising might fail with me.
He trusted me with all that.
“I’ll see it done,” I said. “And I’ll meet you in the Teutoburg.”