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

Hermeric rubbed his long fingers. “Yes, why do we wait? Gaul is no longer a lion to be feared, but a cow waiting to be milked. She is ours if we but stretch out our hand.”

Talien said suddenly, “Why do you not trust us?” He had a deep, resonant voice for so small a man. There was a sudden silence and everyone turned to look at him, and then at me, waiting for my answer.

I said, “You promise to serve my emperor and defend his lands who cannot defend your own, it seems, against the Huns. If you cannot perform the one, why should I suppose that you can perform the other? Why should I suppose you willing to try? You do not live according to our ways and do not wish to do so. We do not live according to yours, and we, too, have no wish to change. Is that a fair answer?”

He said, “Yes, it is fair enough, from your point of view.”

I said, “You are all confident in your strength; do not underrate mine.”

Rando frowned. “We have in our camp a man of the Marcomanni who has served in your emperor’s bodyguard. He has returned and told us that when Stilicho, the Vandal, faced Alaric it was with the soldiers of the Germania garrison under his command. You have no army. It is a lie to deceive us.”

“If it is, then it is one you can easily disprove. Ask your son when he returns. Perhaps he can give you confidence in the matter.”

They looked at me and I looked back with all the confidence and the insolence that I could muster. I said, “I am curious to see how long this vast host can camp by this river and not starve. Soon your camp will be a mud floor and you, having stripped the country bare in your search for food, will be hungry. Your men will become bored, quarrelsome and difficult to handle. You will have sickness and disease to contend with; and the Burgundians will give you no help. For how long will the Alemanni be content with a king who has brought the locusts to his land? Time can only weaken you; and when the time is ripe I may cross the river and do battle. There, I have told you my plans. I can afford to wait; you cannot.”

There was a murmur as though they growled in their throats.

Rando got to his feet. “Come, I will escort you back to the river and there meet my son. There is nothing more to say.”

The others sat there at the table, sullen and angry. I smiled, saluted them with a flourish and turned away.

We rode in silence back the way we had come. During the ride we passed a group of young men, all naked, who were doing acrobatics between swords and upturned spears planted in the ground. A group of older men stood by and watched. The trick was, I supposed, to avoid making a mistake and cutting oneself dangerously. Rando saw me watching. He said, “It is good training for the young. It teaches agility and lack of fear. I, too, could do that once.”

I said, “Let them be happy while they can.”

When the river was close by he checked his horse and looked at me impassively for a moment. “If you change your mind, then send me a message and I will see that you and your men remain unharmed. Meanwhile, there is a man who would speak with you. He was once of your kind. He is under my protection and no harm will come to him. You may say what you wish.”

I dismounted and walked between the tents, the rude shelters and the huts, till I reached a tree at which he had pointed. Standing beneath it was a man of my own age, wearing the dress of the Alemanni people. He was wrapped in a cloak, and a cowl hid his face. Beside him stood a young woman with two small children clutching at her knees, and on his right side was a young man. The children stared curiously at my armour and whispered to their mother, who watched me with a closed face. The young man had his hand on his dagger and I could see him hating me as I walked towards him, while the tribesmen about me laughed and joked amongst themselves. The smoke from the cooking fires drifted into the air and a group of horses, picketed in a line, cropped the grass and flicked their tails at the flies. The man in the cloak put his hands up to his head and pushed back the cowl. We looked at each other with curiosity and interest. We had not met now for over fifteen years and time alone should have stilled all emotions. But I felt the blood in my cheeks, the thumping of my heart; and I knew that my hands trembled.

“I told you that we should meet again,” he said. A smile flickered behind his eyes.

I said, “I would not have known you but for the lack of hair.” I stared at him, trying to see in this creased face the man I had once known. The voice, the movements and the hands were the same, but the face—the face had changed so much.

“You, too, have altered. You look—” He hesitated. Then he said in a low voice, “You look battered but more distinguished. And you have been a success. I salute you, General of the West.” His voice was gentle and mocking, but it was not unkind. I wondered how much he knew but I did not dare to ask.

“And you?” I said.