Warrior

18

Wayne spent the early evening watching in a mixture of relief and amazement as Ishihara made a small lean-to. Ishihara used only fallen logs and dead branches, carefully avoiding damage to any living plants. When he had finished the shelter, he gathered deadwood and made a small fire.

By the softly crackling fire, Wayne ate more of his packaged food and then bundled up under the lean-to for the night. Ishihara sat against a tree trunk, ready to tend the fire through the night. With the fire for warmth and the robot standing guard, Wayne slept very well.

In the morning, Wayne ate while Ishihara carefully took apart the lean-to and scattered the pieces around the forest floor. Wayne felt that the precaution was not necessary, but he did not bother to argue. He was just glad to have Ishihara’s help.

“What is our plan today?” Ishihara asked.

“We’re going to hang out by that village again, remember? And look for MC 3.”

“All right. As soon as I put out the fire completely, we can go.”

Wayne got to his feet and looked up at the sky. It was still gray, of course, but no rain was falling. If he was lucky, they would grab MC 3 that day, before the weather turned worse, and they could go home.

At first light, the Roman bugler woke the entire Roman camp, including Gene and Jane. As the legionaries began to bustle with activity, Hunter waited outside the tent for Gene and Jane to rise and dress. As before, the sky was gray and the air moist and damp, but no rain was falling. Gene joined him; Jane left the tent and hurried toward the latrine. No Romans were nearby.

“I am going to search for Steve alone today, after all,” said Hunter.

“What?” Gene looked at him in surprise. “I thought you didn’t want to shuttle back and forth between us and Steve anymore. Look, Jane and I can be ready to go pretty quickly. We just need some breakfast and that won’t take long. We won’t slow you down.”

“I considered this problem during the night,” said Hunter. “I feel that both of you will be safest with the Romans until shortly before the actual ambush. You told me you cannot give me the date of the battle, but can you estimate if it is imminent?”

“Well, maybe this will help,” said Gene slowly. “The German ambush took place when the Roman troops were moving through a rugged mountain pass. It was between the Weser River, which is visible down the slope right below us, and the sites of some German cities that don’t exist yet. I would say we’re getting pretty close to the spot.”

“That may help.” Hunter reviewed the terrain he had seen the previous day in the direction that the Romans would travel after breaking camp. “I do not believe any mountain passes are within today’s marching distance.”

“Then it won’t happen today.”

“All right. That is good. I shall go straight to Vicinius’s village this morning, since I left him with Steve out in the forest yesterday.”

“What should we do? We can meet you out there someplace if you want.”

“No, we shall lose track of each other again,” said Hunter. “I shall bring him back to the Roman army for tonight, meeting you wherever I can on the march. Tomorrow morning, when we are all together again, we can leave the Romans in time to avoid the battle.”

“Okay.” Gene shrugged.

“Tell Jane the current plan,” said Hunter. “I should begin my journey.”

“Got it.”

Hunter did not bother requesting a horse, since that might cause another minor historical change; his team had risked enough of those. Besides, he could reach the village on foot soon enough for his purpose. The question of whether Marcus would still decide to burn a village because of Hunter’s team had sharpened his concern over small changes starting larger ones.

The sentries at the gate opened it for Hunter as he approached. He merely nodded his thanks and slipped out into the forest again. If he could reach Steve by midday, as he expected, then he could at least have his team together again by night. As the battle approached, he was determined to have his team together where he could keep them safe. MC 3 could wait until they were reunited.

Marcus arranged for Gene and Jane to ride with him at the head of the Roman column with Governor Varus. This was a little unusual for guests, but the governor said nothing about it. Marcus had come to feel responsible for them. On the march, he rode on the governor’s right, with Jane and Gene to the right of him.

Advance patrols were riding out, as usual, to check the road. Marcus had asked them to take special pains in looking for signs of hostility, but he had not succeeded in convincing them that the governor was overconfident, either. Besides, as an aide to the governor, he had prestige but no direct authority in their chain of command.

When the column halted for its midday meal and a rest, Marcus reined in and looked out across the country ahead before dismounting. “Well, it could be worse, I guess.”

“What do you see?” Jane asked.

Marcus pointed into the distance. “For the rest of today, the road skirts the edge of this mountain, high upon the slope. And the ground above us is fairly clear-it only has some scrub trees and open meadows. No one can hide up there to attack us. If they come across that area from somewhere else, we’ll have plenty of warning.”

Governor Varus had already dismounted and handed his reins to a groom, but he looked up with a weary smile. “Tribune, I’m glad you feel safer now than you did this morning.” Shaking his head, he walked away.

Marcus sighed and dismounted as well. Then he saw one of the advance patrols returning to the column, where they would report to the centurion who was their immediate superior. “Excuse me a moment, will you?”

“Of course,” said Jane, jumping to the ground. “I’ll take a little walk.”

“I’ll just relax right here,” said Gene. “And try not to get in the way.”

Marcus picked his way through the crowd of legionaries and horses to the advance patrol. They had dismounted and were holding their horses impatiently, anxious to be dismissed. The commander of the patrol, a man named Adrianus, was breathlessly giving his report. Marcus approached them to listen.

“…so many villages in the area that are empty,” Adrianus was saying.

“What?” Marcus interrupted. “Excuse me, centurion, but I want to hear this, too. Adrianus, you say that some German villages are completely empty?”

The centurion, a man named Fabius Albinus, waited patiently. Marcus was glad; the centurion would be within his rights to tell the governor’s aide to go away. Of course, at some point in the future, he could find that annoying the governor’s aide unnecessarily had been a mistake.

“Uh-no, sir, I didn’t mean they were totally empty,” said Adrianus. “I just meant, they’re empty of all their fighting men.”

“How many villages?”

“Every village we passed, sir. All day.”

“But the women, children, and old men were still there?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you ask them where the men were?”

“Yes, sir. They said, out in the fields or out hunting.” Adrianus glanced at his men, behind him, some of whom nodded agreement.

“Did you go past their fields?”

“Of course we did. The harvest is past. All the fields are deserted.”

“You don’t think they’re hunting, Tribune?” Fabius looked at Marcus. “Game has been plentiful; it would tempt a man to go out after it.”

“Too many men are missing all at once just to be hunting,” said Marcus. “Game has been plentiful; a major hunt with many men at one time is unnecessary.”

“Excuse me, sir-we saw some of the men,” said Adrianus. “Here and there.”

“Where?” Marcus demanded. “Doing what?”

“Avoiding us, mostly. They slipped away into the woods pretty fast when they saw us. But they were generally headed that way.” He pointed up ahead.

“On our line of march?” Marcus asked, looking where he was pointing.

“Well-not along the road.” Adrianus frowned thoughtfully. “From what we could see, they were going overland. But their route could intersect ours, I guess.”

“They’re traveling overland through the forest to avoid being seen if possible,” said Marcus. “And even though you spotted some of them, I doubt you saw any more than the smallest fraction. Adrianus, what do you make of it?”

“Uh…” Adrianus glanced uncomfortably at his immediate superior, aware that the army’s formal position was that no danger was present.

“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.