Nobody Loves a Centurion(13)

You see this sort of thing all over the coastal areas surrounding our sea, where over the course of four centuries people of many lands have adopted the customs, grooming, and dress of the Greeks. More recently, we see imitation Romans everywhere. Primitive people often find a more sophisticated culture attractive and seek to join it, while those who feel their race has lost its warrior virtues will sometimes adopt the customs of a more primitive but more fierce and manly culture.

“An oddly mixed party,” I commented. “Why Druids?”

“They will be advisers to the Helvetii. They are consulted on all matters of importance.”

I guided my horse around a mud hole. “We do the same. It is always a good idea to consult the augurs for signs and make sure all the proper rituals are observed before you commit yourself to crucial action.”

“It isn’t quite like that. The Druids serve as advisers in worldly matters and they retain the history and lore and traditions of the people.”

This was the first I had heard that the Druids were anything more than priests. “Are they politically influential?” I was not sure how a Gaul would interpret such an expression.

“The kings listen to them.”

“Even German kings?”

He laughed. “Never! The Germans have only fierce gods they can see: the sun and the moon, lightning and thunder and the storm.”

Then we started up another group of warriors and were off on another chase.

When we returned to camp that evening, we found that a pack of merchants had arrived and a veritable market day was in progress. The camp’s forum had sprouted booths and the off-duty soldiers were allowed, a cohort at a time, to go there and purchase necessities or waste their money as they saw fit. I dismissed my ala and the men who had taken heads rushed away to show them off to their friends. Gauls set great store by these grisly trophies and even decorate their shrines and homes with them. They fancy the head to be the repository of many virtues such as courage and wisdom. We Romans hold that these qualities reside in the liver. Personally I am neutral, but I would regret losing either of them.

That evening Caesar entertained the envoys at dinner and I got a good look at them. The Helvetii were elders dressed in richly patterned cloaks and a profusion of massive, golden jewelry. The Druids, differing from the usual Gallic fashion, had long beards, white in the case of the two elder priests, short and red on a younger man. Unlike the other two he wore no silver diadem around his temples, so I took him to be an apprentice or acolyte. All three had slender, long-fingered hands that had never been hardened by labor or practice at arms. In their long, white gowns and holding their staffs they might have been heralds.

The three Germans were tall, burly men, whose hair and beards ranged from dark gold to near white. Their pale complexions were reddened and roughened by constant exposure. The evening had turned cold, but they wore only brief tunics of wolfskin and fur leggings that came no higher than their knees. Longswords hung at their belts and they leaned on spears forged entirely of steel. They gazed about them with fearless eyes that were of a blue so pale that you almost took them for blind men until that eagle gaze fastened on you.

Once, in the big, stone amphitheater at Capua, I had seen a Hyrcanian tiger, the first ever brought to Italy. When it ambled into the arena, I was struck by its great beauty, but its size and the way it ignored its surroundings made it seem as slow and lazy as a big, male lion. Then it noticed the massive fighting bull that had been matched with it. Like a streak of golden light it was across the arena and had the much larger animal down so swiftly that it looked like magic. The tiger was a sensation and fought there for many years. To me, it was feral deadliness personified.

When I saw those Germans, I thought about that tiger. These were not the semi-Gallicized Germans who dwelled along the river. They were the real thing; savages from the deep forests far beyond the Rhine.

The dinner was somewhat less austere than that of the evening before, but it was not exactly a banquet. A few delicacies had been purchased from the merchants and a hunting party had brought in a wild boar, but the envoys had no taste for olives and seemed to be repelled by our fermented fish sauce. Well, there is no accounting for tastes. I noticed that the Druids ate no animal food, not even eggs.

When the dinner was over, Caesar held audience. First to speak was the head of the Helvetian delegation. He wore a voluminous cloak woven in a dazzling pattern of checks and lines that intersected and overlapped bewilderingly. He had it wrapped about him against the chill of the evening. It was fastened at his shoulder by a golden brooch at least eight inches in diameter. His speech was translated by a respected Roman merchant who had lived in Gaul all his life, but I kept Lovernius close by me to make sure that the translation was accurate.