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

“I rode through their camp. I saw them: warriors with their wives and children, old men and women with all their possessions. They are on a migration. They want this land. A quarter of a million people are sitting on that bank, waiting for the right moment to cross.”

He swallowed hard.

I said, “I can only hold them if I have more troops and the supplies I ask for. I have written to the Praefectus Praetorio. I need authority to conscript every able man I can lay hands on.”

He said, “If this is true—”

“If!” I walked up to him and he backed away nervously. “They have tried to cross already. I have seen their weapons— good Roman swords, Artorius, sold to them through the greed of good Roman merchants and the corruption of good Roman tribunes. Shall I report that to the Emperor, do you think?”

He licked his lips. I think he thought that I was accusing him. I said, “I am not concerned with the state of the civil administration of which you are so proud to be a member. I want only the things I need, that I may do what I have to do while there is still time. Every day matters, do you understand?”

He said, “The Praefectus is not at Arelate, if you have written to him there.”

“Where is he?”

“On his way to see the Emperor at Ravenna.”

“When will he be back?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. In two months, perhaps.”

“That is too long to wait.” I took him by the shoulders and I tried to smile. I said, “You are an imperial official.”

“I have no authority in Gaul.”

“But you have here. It would do for a start. The governor of Belgica could raise men, too. The Praefectus would confirm the instructions later. That’s the answer. Don’t you see?”

His hands began to tremble and he stared at me wide-eyed. He said, “But if I exceed my authority the Praefectus may dismiss me.”

“Nonsense.”

“No, it is not.” He stopped and then said bitterly, “The civic council are already displeased with me over the other matters. One or two even want to get rid of me.”

“Ignore them.”

“I cannot.”

I said brutally, “Have some courage, man. You have come a long way. Are you not now Curator of a great city? You are more important than you think. The Emperor will not be displeased at any man who uses his initiative to protect the foremost city of Gaul.”

He hesitated.

It was then that I made my mistake. I said, “Come, it is not as bad as all that. I am not setting up a private army.”

His eyes flickered. He said, in a squeaky voice, “I have no authority.”

“Authority was made to be exceeded.”

“I cannot.”

I smiled. That, too, was a mistake. “Surely?”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “Oh, it is easy for you. You are of the equestrian order. You are a soldier—the friend of Stilicho. But I—I am not.”

“You have ambitions.”

He flushed. “Yes, does that surprise you.” He paused, glanced at me doubtfully and then said, in a low voice, “The governor of Belgica is due to retire soon. I have some hopes. I cannot help having hopes.”

“Then help me,” I said. “I spent half a lifetime as praefectus of a cohort. Yes, I too. Help me and I will use what influence I possess to help you. But, if the frontier goes neither of us will have a future. It is as simple as that.”

He bit his lip. “You don’t understand,” he mumbled. “I will inform the governor. I will write to the Praefectus Praetorio. When I hear from them I will let you know. It is all I can do.” He nodded briefly and hurried from the room, his face, shiny with sweat, wearing its usual nervous, obstinate look. His sandals clattered on the stairs and then he was gone, and I was alone in the room again.

I did not learn until much later—and by then it was too late—what it was that frightened him so. And yet, in his own way he was right. I had been born with all the advantages he had spent a lifetime trying to attain. I had all the things he wanted so badly; and I could not really understand his restlessness, his ambition, his lack of assurance, his envy or his insecurity. He wanted—as we all did—what he had not got. He did not realise that when you reached the crest of the hill, the wind blew colder there than on the slopes.

I sat down on a stool by the window and poured myself some more wine. I felt very tired.