Now I hoped to find Doola in every town and village. When we reached the limits of the Senones country, I sent Gwan and his two retainers out ahead, to arrange food and to scout and ask around. But by the time we’d been twenty days on the trail and we rode our tired horses across the divide and down into Agedinca, we hadn’t seen or heard any rumour of them, and a black man should have been easy to find in Gaul.
Two days later, we guested with Collam, and I brought him some Persian saffron and some pepper from the beach market in Massalia. He offered to let my little war band stay for some time, and he sent riders out to the south and east.
I passed a very pleasant week. We hunted deer and wild boar, and I showed him how the Greeks hunt rabbit and he laughed himself silly. Even when I came back with a pair of coneys, he was still laughing. No Gaul aristocrat will do anything on foot if it can be done on horseback, and the sight of me running the trails of his forest naked was apparently the very height of Gaulish humour.
Summer was coming, and the grain was ripening in the fields, and all I could think about was the tin, and Demetrios. There was a girl in Collam’s hall — well, I was quite taken with her. She had beautiful big eyes and a wonderful laugh. She was by no means a great beauty, except in a lithe, flat-chested sort of way… Ah, I beg your pardon, girls. But she made the time pass quickly, and the enthusiasm with which she opened the pins on her dress and let it fall Ah, blushes all round. I really shouldn’t tell these stories. I merely want you to see that I was coming back to life in every way. I’m ashamed to say I don’t remember her name, but she was no slave. One of the very finest things about the Keltoi is the freedom of their women — in that respect, there’s a great deal the Hellenes could learn from them.
Collam’s son came back from the south with a rumour that there was an early cart train coming up from Korbilon, which, after some talk, proved to be a town on the mainland opposite the Venetiae islands. I was worried that the Venetiae might hold a grudge, although, if you’ve been listening, you’ll know that we did them no harm. But as I have said elsewhere, merchants guard their trade routes the way farmers guard their fields. Dicca, as I called the lad, told that over the hills, men said the cart train was guarded by a black man with magical powers.
That seemed hopeful.
Sophia! That was her name. Or perhaps that was her name in Greek. At any rate, I was enjoying her, and in no hurry to leave, once I knew that Doola was coming. My host had tribal problems — a fractious neighbour, and Gwan’s father still owed the Venetiae, and was still a hostage with them.
Collam sat down with me — we’d been there a full week, and perhaps more. We’d eaten a feast of pork, and the wine bowls were passing. I was sitting with Sophia, my arm around her waist — the Keltoi encouraged such behaviour in public, whereas in Greece it would have excited comment, to say the least.
Collam looked at Sophia and nodded. ‘Be sure you get a boy off him,’ he said.
She threw back her head and laughed. ‘I’m past all that,’ she said. But she smiled at me.
Collam leaned back against the table and twirled his moustaches. ‘Let me make you a proposition,’ he said.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Sophia said. ‘He wants you to fight.’
She grinned and Collam frowned.
‘I want you to fight,’ Collam admitted, and tossed the woman a false glare. They weren’t brother and sister — I never fully understood their relationship, but it was deep. He looked back at me. ‘Listen — I can help you, and you can help me. The Venetiae, they want to move their goods without paying a toll. And my brother-in-law,’ he paused, ‘is willing to make concessions to them. Concessions he shouldn’t be making. But they are buying him against the rest of us, instead of paying their tolls.’
‘Ahh,’ I said, or something equally intelligent.
‘He’s assembled a strong force: he has Venetiae cavalry and his own charioteers and several hundred infantry.’
‘And you want to take him on,’ I said.
Collam nodded. ‘He’s a rich man — far richer than any of us. But if the smaller lords band together, we can take him. And you are a famous warrior. And you have twenty warriors at your tail — a fine company. If you fight beside me, I’ll give Gwan any Venetiae prisoners to trade for his father.’
I shook my head. ‘I didn’t really plan to come here and make war,’ I said. ‘I need to find Doola. I won’t do anything to annoy the Venetiae while Doola is still on the river or the road.’
It was a good thing to say, but the Lord of the Biturges had other ideas. I suppose he heard that my host was making alliances and causing trouble, because Genattax of the Biturges marched against us with twelve hundred men, and he came almost without warning.
I might have wondered why Collam was so glad to see me that spring, or why he was so eager to send scouts out to the south. In fact, his son and his other horsemen were watching every road and path for Genattax all spring, and my search for Doola was merely fortuitous.
But I wasn’t going to ride off and leave Collam in the lurch. And the rumour was that the black man and his convoy were ten days away. Maybe less.
Why did things have to be so complicated?
Collam used me as a recruiting tool, showing his Greek warrior off to his neighbours. He had me demonstrate pankration with Seckla, and sometimes with some unlucky Gaulish lad. I felt as if I had become some sort of slave prizefighter, but by the time Genattax came at us over the hills, we had a thousand men, almost a third of them cavalry.
Seckla was hesitant, but the rest of the men were game to fight. Fighting for strangers can be a testy business — you don’t really know who can be trusted, and there’s always the possibility of out-and-out betrayal, but I trusted Collam.
We dismounted and fought with his tribal infantry. I’m not very good at fighting on horseback, and I thought that I could do something to stiffen the javelin-throwing peasantry.
We formed on a hillside, with the enemy in full view, also forming — chaos, really. Men wandered up to the battle, and when they formed their phalanx, each man chose his own place. It was alien, and yet somehow familiar — after all, even in Plataea, men generally stand beside their brothers and cousins. I wanted us to form quickly and attack across the valley while the enemy was still forming, but Collam laughed at my notions of tactics and said that such a fight would decide nothing. So instead, both hosts formed, and moved carefully down the ridges towards the streambed at the bottom. It wasn’t very full. There was marshy ground to our left, and all of our cavalry formed on our right. All the enemy cavalry was there, too. They had more cavalry than we did, and more chariots, and we had more infantry.
May I say that war looks a good deal less necessary when you are fighting for strangers? As far as I could tell, the differences between Collam and his brother-in-law could have been resolved in an hour over a cup of wine. Perhaps a Gaul would have felt the same about Datis and Miltiades. At any rate, I didn’t feel fired with enthusiasm for the conflict, and as morning wore into afternoon, I was increasingly aware that the enemy’s mounted flank outnumbered ours and also overshadowed it, as their line went well beyond ours to the right.
But they wouldn’t cross the stream, and neither would we. I understood why we wouldn’t — we were outnumbered. But they had the numbers, and that trickle of water wouldn’t have slowed their cavalry.
After some discussion, I found that it was only my ignorance. The chariots couldn’t cross the river, and that meant neither side was anxious to engage.
Well, they aren’t professional warriors. They have their own ways, and they are, after all, only barbarians.
We stood across the stream from them for hours. They would chant, and our side would chant. Sometimes a lone man would emerge and bellow a challenge.
I stood with Seckla and watched.
As the sun began to go down, a big man with a red beard emerged from the enemy infantry and whirled his great sword over his head and smacked his shield boss with it. I remember thinking — why not?
In fact, I dared myself. I had never been so close to conflict and felt so little.
I was afraid — afraid I was losing my taste for war. I was going to become one of those old men who love babies.
Who knows what I feared. I am now an old man, and I love babies. Hah! The things young men fear.
At any rate, I kicked off my sandals and walked to the edge of the stream. He came down — I don’t think he was delighted to have his challenge taken up, after an afternoon when no challenges had been answered.
