Nobody Loves a Centurion(75)
They watched me with a sort of grim amusement; then, when I was finished, Ariovistus spoke.
“There, you have sat beneath my roof, eaten my food, and drunk my mead. Do you feel safe now?”
“Was I in danger?” I said. This sent them into transports of laughter. I certainly couldn’t fault their sense of jollity.
“I like you Romans,” Ariovistus proclaimed. “You are not all bluster, like the Gauls. You have real nerve. Listen to me, Metellus. I want you to deliver my words to Caesar. The land of the Helvetians is mine. You may let them migrate as they wish or kill them all, I do not care. If you feel like fighting a war, be sure that after you finish you go back to Italy. If you keep expanding into Gaul, sooner or later you must fight me and I will beat you. I have never been defeated in battle and to this my enemies will attest.”
“That is certainly blunt enough,” I said. “No one will ever claim that you couch your thoughts in a lot of confusing rhetoric. But you err if you think that Rome is easily swayed by threats from a foreign king.”
At this, Ariovistus chuckled. “Rome? I am not facing war with Rome.” He pointed a thick finger in the general direction of the lake. “Over there I face Caesar! Do all Romans love Caesar? I do not think so. Many great and noble Romans have contacted me through their agents. They have praised me as a great king and assured me that, when I defeat Caesar’s armies and kill Caesar himself, Rome will seek no revenge against me. In truth, they have promised me great rewards. I will be paid a heavy tribute, and the Senate will recognize me not only as King of Germania but of as much of Gaul as I can seize save for your little Province.”
With a sinking feeling I knew that he was telling the truth. The soldiers had spoken of Crassus’s agents operating in the area. I myself had told Caesar how many of his enemies were counting on his meeting with disaster in Gaul. How deep had this rot gone? Were Crassus and his allies in the Senate (and Caesar had many enemies who were not allies of Crassus) actually aiding the ambitions of Ariovistus materially? Crassus was so rich that this was possible.
“You still must deal with the Roman soldiers,” I told him, “and they rarely ever see Rome. Their loyalty is to their general.”
“Roman loyalty is to be bought by anyone who has gold,” he sneered.
Now I knew that the answers were almost within my grasp. “Not all, but some. Only a few. Was it with the gold Crassus and Pompey and the others gave you that you suborned the First Spear of the Tenth Legion, Titus Vinius?”
For a moment he looked nonplussed. “It was with my own gold that I bought Titus Vinius.”
Now I was taken aback. “But Germania is not rich in iron, much less in gold.”
“That does not mean we are poor,” Ariovistus maintained. “Wealth lies in land and in fighting men. All else is to be taken when you have those. A few years ago I crossed the river as ally of the Sequani in their war against the Aedui. First I smashed the Aedui, then I took a third of the land of the Sequani.” He chuckled and rocked back and forth. “They owed me something for defeating their enemies, didn’t they? In the conquered land, my hunters found a great heap of treasure in a marsh. It was a dedication from the Gauls to their gods after a battle long ago.”
“I have heard of the custom,” I said.
“Most of the iron was too rusted to salvage, after so many years. The bronze was corroded away as well. But silver and gold last forever.” He gestured at the gold he and Freda wore. “I have plenty of gold now. I will be paid even more when I kill Caesar, unless he is wise and goes back home. It is all the same to me.”
“What was it you bought from Vinius?” I asked him.
“When the time came, when my army clashed with Caesar’s, he was to betray the camp to me. He assured me that it would be easy to do. He could weaken the guard on the wall on a night of my choosing. You Romans do not like night fighting. We do. With an enemy in your camp in the middle of the night, when you cannot form your battle lines and every man is on his own, you can be slaughtered like sheep. Tell Caesar that. Let him know that his soldiers are not as loyal to him as he thinks.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but I could not. Almost fifty years before, in the war with Jugurtha, corrupt Roman officer-politicians had sold out our legions and let the Numidians in at night, all for gold. The results had been as Ariovistus said. Even in the middle of these depressing thoughts, the light of revelation dawned over me.
“You violated a Druid sanctuary,” I said.
“What of that? I despise the Druids. They only make trouble, trying to unite the Gauls against me. When Gaul is mine, I will hang them all in the groves.” A sentiment he seemed to share with Caesar.