by Isaac Asimov
“Uh — no, sir, I didn’t mean they were totally empty,” said Adrianus. “I just meant, they’re empty of all their fighting men.”
“How many villages?”
“Every village we passed, sir. All day.”
“But the women, children, and old men were still there?” Marcus asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you ask them where the men were?”
“Yes, sir. They said, out in the fields or out hunting.” Adrianus glanced at his men, behind him, some of whom nodded agreement.
“Did you go past their fields?”
“Of course we did. The harvest is past. All the fields are deserted.”
“You don’t think they’re hunting, Tribune?” Fabius looked at Marcus. “Game has been plentiful; it would tempt a man to go out after it.”
“Too many men are missing all at once just to be hunting,” said Marcus. “Game has been plentiful; a major hunt with many men at one time is unnecessary.”
“Excuse me, sir — we saw some of the men,” said Adrianus. “Here and there.”
“Where?” Marcus demanded. “Doing what?”
“Avoiding us, mostly. They slipped away into the woods pretty fast when they saw us. But they were generally headed that way.” He pointed up ahead.
“On our line of march?” Marcus asked, looking where he was pointing.
“Well — not along the road.” Adrianus frowned thoughtfully. “From what we could see, they were going overland. But their route could intersect ours, I guess.”
“They’re traveling overland through the forest to avoid being seen if possible,” said Marcus. “And even though you spotted some of them, I doubt you saw any more than the smallest fraction. Adrianus, what do you make of it?”
“Uh …” Adrianus glanced uncomfortably at his immediate superior, aware that the army’s formal position was that no danger was present.
“Speak freely,” said Marcus, eyeing the centurion pointedly. “I want to hear your opinion.”
“Well, something is up, sir. Looks to me like they’re planning a fight.”
“I think so, too,” said Marcus. “Arminius is making his move.” He turned and strode away, leaving Adrianus to complete his report to Fabius.
The real danger now, Marcus told himself, was not from the Germans. They were poorly armed, poorly armored, and generally undisciplined on the battlefield. The danger was in the attitude of Governor Varus, who was being reckless enough to invite disaster despite the many advantages that the Roman army possessed.
This time, Marcus did not simply want to run up to the governor like a panicked new recruit. He had apparently lost some of Governor Varus’s respect already over this matter. Instead, he would have to maintain his dignity and try to approach the subject casually.
Marcus joined Governor Varus at his cookfire, where Demetrius had prepared their noonday meal. Jane and Gene were just sitting down on a couple of large rocks there as well, accepting plates of beans fried in bacon grease. It was normal marching fare, quick and easy to prepare.
“I don’t like the look of those foul clouds,” said Governor Varus, glancing up. “Or the way the wind is coming up. We’ve had a short reprieve these last few days from the infernal rain. Now I would say we’ll get another downpour tonight or tomorrow. What do you think, Marcus?”
Marcus took his plate from Demetrius and looked up. “Yes, Governor. I think a storm is building. The winds through these mountains are unpredictable, though. I would say, it will hit us tomorrow.”
Governor Varus nodded, chewing, then swallowed. “Gene, what do you think?”
“Uh — we don’t have mountains like this where I’m from,” said Gene. “But it looks like rain again soon.”
Governor Varus nodded. “Marcus, I hope I have not been too hard on you about these Germans.”
“Well, sir — I know I haven’t been here as long as you have. One of our patrols returned just now with some information, however.”
“Mm?” The governor’s mouth was full.
“They found that the fighting men have left the villages.” Instead of pressing his argument, Marcus paused to eat for a moment.
Jane and Gene looked at each other.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Governor Varus said to them. “They’re probably out hunting.”
“Our patrol spotted some of them,” said Marcus. “They were sneaking through the forest overland, off the road, moving up ahead of us.”
“Maybe they have good hunting grounds that way,” said Jane. Her voice was quiet, oddly timid.
“Oh, I suppose there may be some troublemakers among them,” said Governor Varus. “All of Rome’s many subject peoples get restless from time to time. That doesn’t mean they can mount a serious rebellion.”
“It might be worth checking out,” said Marcus, looking at the governor hopefully.
“Our patrols should be sufficient,” said Governor Varus. “After all, they brought back this information. They can handle it.”
“It wouldn’t hurt —” Marcus began. “No, no. You see, this province is virtually an extension of Gaul.” The Governor turned to Gene. “How long has Gaul been conquered, now?”
“About half a century,” said Gene.
“And have you seen any objection to Roman rule there in your lifetime?”
“Well, no. I haven’t.” He smiled slightly.
“The Germans are also subjugated,” said Governor Varus. “I expect in a few years we will be ready to press eastward, to conquer the land beyond the Elbe River.” He shrugged, and continued eating.
“May I have the commander of the patrol report directly to you, sir?” Marcus asked. “Maybe if —”
“No!” Governor Varus tossed aside his empty plate and stood up. “Tribune, I have tired of this subject. Do not bring me any officer. Do not argue with me any further. You are expressly forbidden from discussing any changes in marching orders with regular officers or interfering with existing army directives of any kind in any way. And if you have any questions for the Germans, you may ask them tonight! The matter is closed!” He waved a hand in dismissal.
Marcus stood up, his appetite gone. As Demetrius began cleaning up, Marcus turned to Gene and Jane. “What do you think? Based on what you heard?”
“Uh —” Caught off guard, Gene looked at Jane and shrugged. “Well … I’m a trader, not a soldier.”
“I’m not asking you as a soldier,” said Marcus. “Just as someone who has overheard what I told the governor. What do you think?”
“I think,” Jane said slowly, “that the governor should respect your opinions more.”
Marcus was startled. “Well — thank you. But do you think I’m being reckless?”
“Did the men in the advance patrol share your opinion?” Gene asked.
“Yes, at least their field commander did. His superior didn’t.”
“I’m sure you know your business,” Gene said carefully. “I’m sorry you can’t get the governor to listen to you.”
“Me, too,” said Jane, with a tight little smile.
Marcus nodded. “Well … thank you for the thought.
It’s time to mount up.”
“What did he mean about asking the Germans questions tonight?” Jane asked.
Marcus took his reins from the groom. “It means that we are feasting with some of their leaders tonight, in camp. Probably Prince Arminius himself, among others.” He shook his head in disgust and mounted.
19
WHEN STEVE ROSE the next morning, he kept close to Vicinius and said very little. The village was in a warlike mood; even early in the morning, the warriors sat by the cookfires tending their weapons, scraping the shafts of their spears smooth and sharpening their knives and their few swords on rocks. Steve could do nothing at this stage but wait for Hunter to come back for him.
As the morning wore on, Steve still sat by the fire near Vicinius’s hut, watching the groups of warriors. After Steve finished eating
, he still did not want to risk doing anything that would attract attention to himself. Chief Odover walked among the warriors, talking quietly and nodding approval when they showed him their weapons.
Vicinius spoke to them for a while, but then returned to his fire. He sat down with Steve and he used a small stone to sharpen his spear point. No one else came near them.
“Are you going to war today?” Steve asked quietly, watching Vicinius patiently slide the stone across the metal with a regular, steady motion.
“Today or tonight, I think,” said Vicinius. “My father told me a little while ago that Prince Arminius will send someone to get us. He is feasting with the Romans tonight.”
“He is?”
“You may remain here, of course. It is not your fight.”
Suddenly a chorus of shouts arose from the far side of the village. When Steve looked up, he saw the warriors crowding around Hunter as he emerged from the trees, his head and shoulders visible over the shorter Germans. The warriors were shouting angrily at him.
“Hey!” Vicinius leaped up and ran toward them. “Hunter is my guest here, remember?”
Steve hesitated, watching the others. Then he decided that staying close to Hunter was a good idea. He walked forward slowly, following Vicinius.
The warriors were dragging Hunter forward now, shouting at him. Steve knew that Hunter could pull away from them if he wanted, but he would not leave Steve alone in a hostile atmosphere. Finally the warriors shoved Hunter toward Vicinius.
“Your friends are spies!” One of the warriors pointed angrily at Vicinius.
“Watch your tongue, Sigismund,” said Vicinius, standing with Hunter in front of Steve.
“He came from the direction of the Roman camp!” Sigismund jabbed his spear point into the ground. “Some of us were out looking for more branches to use as spear shafts, and we saw him coming!”
Most of the warriors began yelling again, but Odover approached them and stood Quietly between Vicinius and Sigismund. Everyone Quieted, waiting to see what the village chief would say. He turned to Hunter.
“The Question is a good one,” said Odover patiently. “Tell us where you spent the night. Were you with the Romans?”
“I was,” said Hunter.
The warriors began yelling again, but Odover held up his hand for silence. He got it.
“You have been our guest here. What have you told the Romans of us?”
“I told them I am still searching for all the members of my party,” said Hunter. “I wish to return home to safety with them, nothing more.”
“He lies,” Sigismund growled.
“Test him,” Steve said suddenly. “See what he’ll tell you about them, instead.” Since the Germans were clearly about to mount their attack, and were supposed to defeat the Romans anyway, Steve figured that helping them a little would be acceptable. Besides, Hunter could be trusted to judge for himself what to reveal.
“Speak, Hunter,” Odover said Quietly.
“Tell us their line of march,” said Sigismund, glaring at Hunter.
“They march along the road that overlooks the Weser River,” said Hunter. “Today, it will take them high on the shoulder of a mountain overlooking the river, with open country above it. Tomorrow the country becomes more rugged, and they will have to choose between a couple of different passes through the mountains.”
“That is right,” said Sigismund slowly. “From what I have heard.”
“Prince Arminius knows his business,” said Hunter. “All we ask is to go in peace and gather our party together.”
“Keep them here,” said Sigismund. “Until the action has begun.”
“No,” said Vicinius. “They will not be prisoners here. I brought them here as my guests and they will go in peace.” He turned to Hunter and nodded.
“Steve.” Hunter inclined his head toward the forest and began to walk that way.
Steve glanced at Vicinius, who was shifting his position to remain between Sigismund and Hunter. Then Steve trotted toward the edge of the village, paralleling Hunter so he would not have to pass any of the hostile warriors. As soon as he reached the trees, he slowed down to pick his way through the underbrush to Hunter.
Suddenly shouts rose up behind him. When he turned to look, he saw Sigismund shove Vicinius aside and lead the warriors after Hunter and him, shaking their weapons. Steve took off at a run, crashing through the bushes and dodging around trees.
“This way, Steve,” Hunter called. He angled behind Steve, cutting off the warriors. “Run!”
“Like I didn’t know better,” Steve muttered, pausing to yank his cloak free of a branch.
The warriors were yelling at the edge of the village, but that was all they were doing. They were not throwing their spears or shooting arrows. Steve decided, as he shoved between a couple of large bushes, that they were merely helping their visitors on their way.
After a few minutes, Steve stopped to catch his breath. The village was already out of sight. Hunter joined him.
“You are well?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Now what?”
“We shall spend the night with Jane and Gene in the Roman camp. Tomorrow, I believe, the attack will take place. We shall leave the Romans tomorrow morning and avoid the violence.”
“Sounds good to me.” Steve looked up at the sky. Through the canopy of trees and the dark clouds, he could see only a hint of the sun’s position. “But it’s only late morning now, isn’t it? We have the rest of the day. You want to go back to the Romans already?”
“We must not let them get too far from us,” said Hunter. “Because of the heavy wagons in their baggage train, and the time they require to prepare in the morning and to make camp at night, they will move more slowly than we shall. However, since we are both on foot, our advantage is not too great.”
“From everything I’ve heard, MC 3 may be over at a neighboring village. At least, they know something about him. I think we ought to take a look.”
“I agree,” said Hunter. “We should try to avoid both German warriors who may be moving and also any Roman patrols. At this stage, both sides are becoming wary of strangers.”
“It’s okay with me. But, I don’t know if I can find this other village.”
“There are many trails through the forest. I know which general direction to take. We shall find it.”
Steve had little to say as Hunter chose a direction and led him through the trees. Asking him how he was making his choices would invite an answer that was more complicated than it was worth. Between the data about the terrain and the forest that Hunter had stored continuously since arriving, and his enhanced hearing, Hunter was using too much information that he would have to explain at length. Steve decided just to keep walking.
Hunter located a trail fairly quickly but they left it periodically to avoid Germans Hunter heard coming. Some were warriors walking with a quiet determination. Others were old men simply out gathering firewood. When the Germans had passed, Hunter returned to the trail.
On several occasions, he mentioned to Steve that he could hear small groups of horses in the distance. They were almost certainly Roman patrols, but they never drew near enough to alter Hunter’s direction. Hunter and Steve spent several hours moving through the forest, sometimes retracing their steps and moving from one trail to another.
Wayne spent much of the day hiding outside the village of Prince Arminius. Ishihara was adept at moving them to remain upwind of the village dogs and to avoid the war parties that kept arriving in the village. Prince Arminius received each war party enthusiastically. Then he sent them on their way, always in the same direction. Julius remained near him, and MC 3 stayed close to Julius.
“Julius must have said something to him about helping him or not straying too far,” said Wayne. “MC 3 has to be responding to a Second Law instruction to behave so consistently.”
“Very likely,” said Ishihara.
“When they found me here, they tied
me up. Yet they seem to have adopted him.”
“Perhaps his willingness to cooperate under the Second Law made him seem like a friend,” said Ishihara.
“Yeah, maybe. He must have shown up as a kind of lost crazy man. But it’s all going to make getting him away harder. If he won’t leave Julius’s side, we’ll have to hope Julius and MC 3 go take a few minutes away from everyone else.”
“I have observed Julius’s trip to the latrine in the hope that they would be alone,” said Ishihara. “However, with so many visiting warriors, that has not been the case.”
“You have any suggestions?” Wayne asked sourly.
“Only to wait for our opportunity,” said Ishihara. “Impatience would be a mistake.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Marcus did not speak to the Governor as they rode side by side at the head of the army during the afternoon. Occasionally he made a few friendly observations to Jane about the weather or the scenery. Actually, however, he was carefully eyeing the muddy road ahead as they topped every rise and rounded every curve.
He did not expect German warriors to appear unannounced on the open slopes that the army was crossing that day. What he was looking for was rugged, difficult terrain in the distance that they would have to cross the next day or the day after that. Late in the afternoon, when the army halted to make camp, he remained mounted and examined the winding route that lay in front of them.
“What is it, Marcus?” Jane looked from the road back to him. “You see something?”
“Nothing dangerous at this moment,” said Marcus. “But do you see how the road forks, down this slope in the distance?”
Jane paused, looking. Finally she nodded. “Oh, I see it, now. The army will reach that fork in the first hour of marching tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure which way we’re going. But the fork on the left leads into some very rugged country.”
