Aloud, I asked, “And where is this closerforest?”
He did not answer, verbally anyway. Instead,he pivoted a bit before lifting his arm and pointing in thedirection, straight across the river.
“So our choices,” I summarized to theofficers of my command, Cador and Motius, “are to travel overlandto the west to the farthest edge of Parisii lands, to find a newmast. Or,” I took a breath, “sneak across the river into theBrigantes’ lands, where Ivomagus says there is a forest with pinetrees and other varieties about three miles from theriver.”
As I expected, this caused a stir, theothers murmuring something, and it was Saloninus who asked me, “Howdoes Ivomagus know about this forest and how to find it?”
It was a good question, but I did have theanswer. “Because Cogidubnus and Ivomagus’ father, who was theprevious king, had claimed a strip of land about ten miles deepfrom the river, and they were treated as Parisii lands until fairlyrecently, when the Brigantes took them back.”
This, I knew, was something my men wouldunderstand; the boundaries between tribes in Germania areconstantly shifting, the only requirement being that the conqueroris strong enough to maintain control of the ground he seized in thename of his people. And, I was not surprised to see, this clearlyheld true for Britannia. As I suspected would be the case, this wasaccepted by the others, including Cador and Motius; I presumedthat, being from Gaul, they were as aware of this native practiceas we Romans were.
“All right,” Saloninus continued,tacitly accepting this explanation. “What do we do?”
The discussion that ensued lasted well morethan a third part of a watch, but when I finally called an end toit, we had still not come up with a plan. In terms of the problem,it was fairly straightforward; we had to cross the river, march tothis forest, with one of the Parisii as a guide, survey the forest,then find one, or preferably two trees, in the event that one ofthem proved unsuitable. As both the seamen continually stressed,seeing a straight tree in a forest and thinking it will be a goodmast is a far cry from it actually being suitable. Saloninus wasfor the straightforward approach.
“We take the Brizo, row it across the river, march bothCenturies to this forest, and while they stand watch, we get whatwe need. Then we use the draft animals that the Parisii will haveto supply, and use a sledge to drag it back, making sure thatthey’re protected. Once back to the river, we attach a cable to theship, and row back across to Petuar, drag the trees out of thewater, and get to work.”
As it went, it was a sound plan, and onethat I would have immediately approved; if, that is, I had notalready broached this as a possibility to Ivomagus, when we hadlearned of our latest dilemma.
“Centurion Pullus,” Ivomagus had nothesitated, and his tone was emphatic, “if you do that, you will bestarting a war between my tribe and the Brigantes.”
“Why?” I had protested. “All we needfrom you is a guide and some draft animals. The rest is allRoman.”
“And,” he had countered quietly, “whatdo you think the Brigantes will do? Even if they cannot assemble awarband large enough to challenge you, they will see you takingtheir timber, then returning here…to Petuar.” He shook his head,“And that would give the Brigantes the excuse they have beenlooking for.”
I determined very quickly that I had noargument to counter this, so I did not try, which was why I toldhim, “I’ll meet with my officers, and we’ll come up withsomething.”
But now we were sitting in my tent, andafter a substantial amount of time, still no closer to an answerthan when we had started. We even discussed, briefly, simplyrisking crossing back to Gaul without a mast, but both Cador andMotius, while not outright forbidding it, did an adequate job ofdescribing the risks and most likely outcome if we ventured outinto the channel.
“That channel acts like a funnel forthe storms that come from the Mare Germania,” Motius had explained.“The weather we encountered during the two days’ row here washighly unusual, and I would not be willing to wager that it willrepeat itself. If we are caught in the channel without a sail, oreven just a mast to balance us, we will have little chance ofsurviving.” When I pointed out that we had done so once, Motiusreplied quietly, “We were blessed by your goddess Fortuna thattime, Centurion. I would not expect her favor a secondtime.”
Alex, as was his habit, had been listeningfrom his spot in the corner of the tent; and, as also is his habit,when he did choose to speak, it was to the heart of the matter.
“Acisculus, how many men would youneed to take down a tree, then bring it back? And how much timewould you need?”
Acisculus considered this, then finallyanswered, “I’d only need at most a half-dozen men, but I’d alsoneed at least four oxen and a sledge to bring it back.”
“And how long would thattake?”
I was looking at Alex now, knowing thatthere was something behind these questions, but he was gazing atAcisculus intently and did not notice, requiring me to speakup.
“What are you thinking,Alex?”
He did not answer immediately, but I couldsee he was still thinking, so I did not snap at him, and after aspan of a couple heartbeats, he said, “If we can’t simply go acrossthe river and take what we need, we’re going to need to steal it,essentially. Would you agree, Pilus Prior?”
While it had been his habit from thebeginning, I was always appreciative that Alex took care to addressme by my rank and not praenomenwhen we were with others, and I nodded as I said, “Yes, Iwould agree.”
“But, as we know, even if we don’t seethem, the Brigantes are watching us.”
Again, this was very true; in fact,earlier that day, the first full day after our arrival, ahalf-dozen men had suddenly materialized on the far riverbank,seemingly from the ground, and shoved what, to our Roman eyes, waslittle more than a large canoe, although there was a small mastattached, out into the river.
