Illyricum forbids this, unhappily, for the moment. From the complaints I have received about you from those close to the Emperor I judge that you are fulfilling my expectations to the uttermost. Alaric is, as before, the problem that I have to solve. To quiet his ambitions we have been compelled to appoint him to a high office in the imperial service, but the fact remains that those who follow him represent too large a lump for the stomach of the empire to digest in comfort. I intend to move into Illyricum next spring with all the forces I can muster, but I must not alarm Alaric as to the nature of my intentions towards him. This time a final settlement cannot be avoided. And I have affairs to smooth over in Dacia and Macedonia that can no longer be delayed. I must, as they used to say, hasten slowly.
“This means, my dear friend, that I must ask you to hold Germania Superior for another twelve months. Give me this time, I pray you, and all will yet be well. I have ruled this empire, who am no emperor, for ten years now, and I shall continue to rule it until I die. You may believe in my judgement as I believe in yours. Serena sends her greetings as I do to you both.”
I showed this to Quintus and he said, “Shall we ever get relief? I think they will only send more troops when we ourselves are in trouble. And then it will be too late.”
“That is what I am afraid of,” I said.
IX
TWO DAYS LATER I received a visit from Guntiarus, the Burgundian king, who crossed the river to meet me at Bingium by arrangement. He was short and swarthy and he reminded me strongly of a kestrel about to fly. But he was an old kestrel and I judged that he was fiercer in looks than in performance. Like all his people he greased his hair, which he wore down to the nape of his neck, and, it being a hot day, I could smell him before he came. Most of our auxiliaries were Burgundians and there had long been a standing feud between them and the Alemanni on account of a dispute over some salt springs which both tribes claimed as their own. I prayed to Mithras, unworthy though my prayer was, that the dispute might continue.
I showed him round the camp and, though he said little, he was properly impressed.
“This is only my advance guard,” I said. “Soon I shall have a great army. Rome does not forget its provinces when they need help.”
“Do you need help?” he asked shrewdly.
“No,” I lied. “But I can allow no more of your people across this river. That is what I wish to tell you.”
He looked troubled. He said, “Things have changed since Stilicho and I held hands over the salt. My people have increased in number and we have had bad harvests. The land is too poor to support so many.”
“Then you must spend more time in growing crops; less time in breeding horses.”
“It is not the same.”
“Rome can help with silver, if you are not too proud to accept the gift.” I paused and he blinked at me. “We would not wish your children to starve.”
He hesitated. “I am still a king in my own land,” he muttered.
“That is understood. And as a king in your own land you would hold it against all who tried to take it from you.” I paused again and looked at a squad of marching men. “My soldiers defend the allies of Rome as well as the citizens of Gaul.”
He put his knuckles to his mouth. “The Alemanni—”
“Are not as strong as they would have others believe,” I said.
Still he hesitated.
“Silver,” I said. “But no land.”
He said grudgingly, “My people are content with what they have.”
I did not smile.
That night we feasted him and he became very drunk. “I have fine daughters,” he said. “They are young and strong and pleasing. I will send you one and she shall be your wife as a sign that we are friends.”
“You do me great honour,” I said.
He left next morning, dripping with water that his servants had flung over him to get rid of his headache. I hoped that he would forget his promise. I did not want another wife.
Later I crossed the river at Bingium with a large escort and rode into the dark green hills that lay between the Burgundians and the desolate plain that belonged to the Alemanni. In a thick glade, full of dark shadows and shifting sunlight, we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by armed men. I raised my hands to warn my men to keep theirs low on their saddles. Then I rode towards their leader who sat barebacked on a roan mare as still as himself.
“Prince Marcomir,” I said.
“Yes.” He saluted me in the Frankish fashion.
“You know me?”
“Yes.” He was taller than Guntiarus and young enough to have been my own son. Suddenly he smiled. “My people have talked of little else since your soldiers lined the river.” He added grimly, “It was not before time.”
I said, “Do you wish to cross the Rhenus also?”
He grinned. “I have a small territory which I hold with difficulty. My problems would not be less if I enlarged it.”
“Can I count on your support?”
“Why not?” He added softly, “We all need help.”
“There was a time—” I began.
“But it is not now,” he cut in quickly. “Do not worry, your Excellency,” he went on. “I made a pact with Stilicho. He is a man. I am in friendship with Guntiarus, and the Alemanni tolerate me because I am between them and the Burgundians.”
He laughed quietly but without amusement. “My strength lies, you see, in not being strong.”
I looked at him, sitting there half naked on his horse, the sweat trickling across a pattern of scars on his chest and arms. He was young and strong and had a sense of humour. I liked him and felt that he was a man I could trust.
“I spent some time in Gaul,” he said. “I was a hostage for my father’s good behaviour. Treverorum is a fine city—very rich. Too rich,” he added gloomily.
“Do you know the Alemanni well?”
“I know their swords,” he said grimly.
“Tell me what you know. It will be of great use to me.”
We dismounted from our horses and walked towards a fallen tree trunk.
Quintus said, “We need more men. We want twice the auxiliaries we have at the moment.”
“Perhaps we can raise them in Gaul.”
“Do you really believe that?” He snorted his contempt.
“Where else then? I agree with you about the men. I have had a stone in my stomach ever since the letter came from Stilicho.”
He said, “There is supposed to be an army of thirty thousand in Gaul.”
“Yes, on files, in the archives at Mediolanum. And not enough money in the provincial treasury to pay a third of that number.”
“Well, what then, my General?”
“I think I had better go back to Treverorum and talk to the Curator. If we have taken all the veterans’ and soldiers’ sons we can get hold of, and there are no more volunteers, then we must use other means. I can see Gallus too. He will have time enough now in which to build his ships. In any event something must be done to smooth our relations with the officials there. They will have to endure us another year whether they like it or not.”
He frowned. “Perhaps longer. Shall I come?”
“Of course. Lucillius can take command. He is reliable and the experience will be good for him.”
There was a knock and the Chief Centurion came in. “About the bath house, sir. I am having great difficulty
