Eggius winced like a man contemplating a bad hangover. “That wouldn’t be pretty, would it?”
“I don’t think so.” The cavalry commander thought that made a pretty respectable understatement. “So why don’t you be a little more careful before you start talking about killing Germans you don’t happen to like? And it won’t happen anyway, because his Excellency likes Arminius.” Vala Numonius didn’t, but he, unlike Lucius Eggius, understood subordination.
“I know he does.” If the knowledge gave Eggius any pleasure, he hid it very well. “You think I worry about the barbarian too much? I’ll tell you something, Numonius - he doesn’t worry about him enough, and you can mark my words. He thinks Arminius is a tame dog. He can’t see a wild wolf when one’s standing right in front of him.”
Vala Numonius didn’t try to argue. What was the point? Instead, he answered indirectly: “All these Germans are wolves - now. A lifetime ago, all the Gauls were wolves, too. They’ve settled down. Fifty years from now, the governor is sure these Germans will have, too. And we’ll be wondering what we ought to do about the barbarians on the far side of the Elbe. That’s what the Roman Empire does: we move forward.”
“Hrmp.” Lucius Eggius’ grunt was not one of agreement. “The reason the Gauls settled down is, Caesar walloped the piss out of them. They knew they were licked. They knew we were better men. We cursed well showed them we were. The Germans don’t believe it. And why should they? We’ve won some against them, but they’ve won some against us, too. We haven’t convinced ‘em we can squash ‘em whenever we put our minds to it.”
“It’s this miserable country,” Numonius said. “Bogs and swamps and woods and gods only know what all else. No place where an army can form a proper battle line and show the savages how real soldiers do it.”
“You’re right,” Eggius said. This time, he surprised Vala Numonius. “Yeah, you’re right,” he repeated. “But so what?”
“What do you mean, so what?” the cavalry commander demanded. “It’s the truth. If it weren’t for the country, we would have beaten the Germans a long time ago.”
“And if it weren’t for the ocean, you could walk from Sicily to Carthage, too,” Eggius said. Vala Numonius gasped at the unfairness of the comeback. But Eggius couldn’t see it. He pressed ahead: “Don’t you get it? Why we haven’t beaten the stinking barbarians doesn’t matter. That we haven’t beaten them does. It matters a lot. They still think they can mess with us. And they may even be right, a plague take them.”
“It’s not that they’re such wonderful warriors,” Numonius said. “They skulk, and they hide, and they sneak out and bite us like spiders or scorpions. The lay of the land lets them do it.”
“The lay of the land’s got blond hair down to here and tits out to there.” Lucius Eggius gestured lewdly. Vala Numonius winced. Eggius got more serious - a little, anyhow. “But you’re not wrong - this country is a big pile of turds,” he said. “The fun and games we go through getting back to the Rhine every winter prove that. I wish we had a route where we weren’t up to our knees in muck most of the time.”
“I’ll bet the Germans know a route like that,” Numonius said.
“Sure. But will they tell us? Don’t hold your breath, friend,” Eggius said, which had the unfortunate ring of truth. “We need proper roads here. We need ‘em worse than anything else.”
Numonius nodded. “The governor knows that. I expect we’ll have them before very long.”
“But we need ‘em now.” Lucius Eggius hawked and spat. “By Venus’ cunt, we’ve needed ‘em for years.”
“Well, you may be right.” That was the most polite brush-off Numonius knew. Some people kept pounding with hammers even when there wasn’t a nail in sight. And Lucius Eggius, all too plainly, was one of them.
Give Me Back My Legions!
X
From perhaps half a mile away, Sigimerus eyed the Roman encampment of Mindenum. “You want us to go in there?” he asked, his voice rising in disbelief.
But Arminius nodded. “I do, Father. I’ve been in and out several times. Varus thinks I can’t possibly be dangerous. And why? Because I don’t hide from him, that’s why. He doesn’t believe someone who is an enemy of Rome would dare let the legionaries get their hands on him whenever they please.”
“I can see why he doesn’t,” Sigimerus muttered.