Eagle in the Snow: A Novel of General Maximus and Rome's Last Stand

I looked at them in turn. Godigisel, King of the Siling Vandals, was short, compact and with a face like beaten iron. He was a fighter, not a man given to much thinking. Hermeric, King of the Marcomanni, was tall and lean, with the face of a hawk; and, as was customary with his people, wore his hair combed back over the side of his face and knotted. He would be as gentle as a hawk, too, if you fell into his hands. Respendial, King of the Alans, was dark, square faced and with bushy eyebrows. He had a deep, harsh voice and reminded me strongly of a bear who might stand on its legs and clap paws one minute or crush you to death the next. His cousin, Goar, was a younger man. He had good teeth still, said little, and reminded me strongly of a man I had once known in another life. Talien, King of the Quadi, was slim and lightly built. He would have made a good charioteer. He had a humorous face, or would have had if he had allowed it to relax. As it was he watched me carefully the whole time like a cat. He was, I judged, the most intelligent of them all, except Rando, and, potentially, the most dangerous.

“Well,” I said. “What may I do for you that I have not done already?”

Gunderic said, insolent as ever, “We ask you once again for leave to pass in peace across the Rhenus.”

Godigisel said flatly, “We need new lands and are willing to serve in yours.”

“As the subjects of my emperor or as the conquerors of his generals?”

“The one will ensure that you live; the other only that you die.”

“Are you all landless then?” I asked. “People without homes? Vagabonds and tramps who must steal from others in order to replace what they could not hold for themselves?”

Hermeric said, “Some of us have seen the Huns, smelt their stinking breath, felt the weight of their swords. They are barbarians in everything that they do. They are not christians like us. We are a better people; they are stronger; and all the time they press upon our borders, kill our young men, enslave our women and nibble our lands. This we have endured for years till we can endure it no longer.”

“We are farmers,” said Goar suddenly. “A farmer needs peace and patience and time in order to make a success of his land. None of this do the Huns give us.”

I did not look at him and he did not look at me and we both knew the reason why.

I said, “You are willing to unite against my emperor, it seems. It would be better to unite against these Huns.”

Respendial said, “No-one wastes time building a bridge if he can wade through the stream.”

I smiled, I who felt so little like smiling. “I will give you nothing but promises. I promise you this, that for everything you try to take without payment, you will pay twice over.”

Rando said, “For the last time, I ask that you let my brothers cross in peace. You need people to populate your lands. Gaul and Hispania are great countries. There is plenty of room for all to share their riches. Besides, you need farmers; that I know. I know, too, that you need soldiers. Already, many of our people serve in your armies, yet still you need more and more. We are all good warriors. It would be a fair bargain; and a wise one.”

“No.”

He said, “If you refuse, then this province of Gaul will learn how to weep and its suffering will be your sin.”

“I am not a christian,” I said. “Only a soldier. Which one of you planned that night attack on my camp? The Picts or the Scotti could have done better. Perhaps it was your fledgling sons to whom you entrust command of your warriors? And which of you was so foolish as to imagine he could assemble a fleet of boats in a river mouth in broad daylight, and that I would be so blind as not to see them? Perhaps you are just children, playing at warriors, or perhaps one of you is a traitor who has reasons of his own for not wishing the others to cross. Do not talk of soldiers in my presence.”

“Enough,” cried Godigisel. He clapped his hand to his sword.

“I am unarmed,” I said. “Even you could kill me now. Which one of you has lost the most men? Which one of you wishes to weaken the others?”

Rando said intently, “If what you say is true it is still our business and not yours. We can fight, I promise you.”

“Fight then,” I said. “Because I will not let you cross that river.”

“But you would have a place still, a place of honour if you agreed to our terms.”

“I remember. A third of the soil of Gaul. I will give you only enough so that you may be buried with decency.”

Gunderic laughed. “Brave words. Tell us, Roman, how far is it to Augusta Treverorum? I hear that they have fine women there.”

“Nine days in good weather if you march fast.”

“So near.”

“Of course. But they will all be days of fighting,” I added gently.

Respendial shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “We are wasting our time,” he said. “Why talk when we can crush him in a single attack?”

“I agree,” said Gunderic, in that lazy voice of his. “He can talk all he wants—later—when he wriggles on the end of our spears.”