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

He grinned. “Those experiments we were carrying out in the early autumn; you remember them.”

“Yes.”

“If it does not freeze too badly they would be of enormous help in breaking up the ice; but that sort of ice wouldn’t be thick enough to carry much weight anyway. If it freezes very hard, however, we shall probably lose the ships. They’ll get ice-bound.”

“It would be worth it.”

“Shall I arrange it then, along those lines?”

“Yes, you know my mind in these matters as well as your own.”

I rode out on a tour of inspection, first to Bingium where I had a long talk with the legionary commandant, and another with Scudilio, who would succeed him when I withdrew the cohort.

“Why did you lie?” I said.

“Your general has already asked me that question.”

“It is I who am asking it now.”

He said, “I did not think you would let me join you if you knew I came from the Alemanni. That is all.”

I looked at him.

He said nervously, “I have tried to be a good soldier. But if you would prefer it I will take the money that is owing to me and go. It would be better to leave than to stay and not be trusted.”

I said, “Keep your command. When the day comes that I do not trust you I will tell you so myself.”

From Bingium I went on to Boudobrigo, Salisio and Confluentes. The snow was dry still, powdered on the surface but loose underneath, so that marching was difficult and we travelled at half speed, but using twice the effort. I was nagged with worry because the defensive ditches around the camps were half full of snow that had drifted in with the wind. If we had sleet and the snow became wet it would solidify and provide a firm base on which to make a crossing. The ditches would then be rendered useless.

From Confluentes I rode back down the road to Treverorum, and passed a night at the signal tower by the junction where the roads forked. Here the auxiliaries were digging out the ditches that straddled the road, throwing the snow up into banks to provide extra protection. It was here that, if need be, I would make my last stand, and I spent half a day surveying the ground with care. It all looked different now. The branches of the trees were loaded with snow; hillocks, rough ground and tracks had all been blotted out, erased by a dazzle of smooth white in every direction as far as one could see. Only on the road and round the signal tower was the ground stamped hard, slippery and dangerous to walk upon. Beneath the surface of the snow the earth felt like rock. I was impressed by the care that the unit took of its responsibilities. Agilio, the post commander, was only a boy, blond haired, slow thinking but reliable. His post was kept absolutely clean and tidy, the men’s weapons were in excellent condition and they knew how to use them with efficiency. They obeyed his instructions promptly and each man had a ready grasp of his duties. In the afternoon the signal fires flared and smoke rose into the clear sky. I watched the dark balls rise at irregular intervals and then Agilio came up. “You are wanted back at Moguntiacum immediately, sir.”

“Thank you.” I leaned down from my horse and looked at his eager face. “Keep the ditches clear and pray that when you see me again it is not at the head of an army.”

He flashed a smile and saluted. I rode back hard, my escort behind me, spent the night at Bingium and reached my headquarters a little after dawn. I had been in the saddle for too long and I was exhausted.

Quintus gave a sigh of relief when he saw me. “Don’t go away again,” he said. “Next time you might not be able to get back.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to look at the river. You know more about these things than I do.”

Again we stood on the bank in our scarlet cloaks, legionaries about us, tribesmen on the opposite shore; each side looking at the other curiously. “You can see better from the broken bridge,” he said. “Come on.”

We stood on the bridge and I watched the swirling water, rippling coldly beneath my feet. The water still looked clean, but every now and again a patch of water seemed to take on a dark, oily look as though grease were floating on the surface like scum. Quintus began to shiver. “It is cold,” he said. He looked at my face and said quickly, “What is it, Maximus?”

I said, “I don’t know. I am going to stay here and watch. Send a man out with food and some hot wine. I am cold too.”