Notes from Kanuro5: Glad I got this chapter out within two weeks, next chapter may or may not be as fast. I'm going to have several tests I will have to do in the following week, so studying will keep me busy. In one of my classes, my professor wants us to write a story that can be focused in the 1920's - 40's. So as a WW2 buff, I naturally picked that. My story is focusing on the Marines in the Pacific Campaign, so that will take up some of my time too. Enjoy!

XXI

Ermanar's Journey

The twelve Britons trotted along on their horses on the frozen road southward, taking full advantage of this sun-filled day. The Britons were casually conversing with one another about finally being this far south in the mainland, the southern soil that their ancestors were born on. Ermanar was the only barbarian with his thoughts towards elsewhere, his mission. He remembered distinctively what was asked of him, he remembered how his king spoke to him:

The Briton barbarian horde were lying in camp outside Samarobriva, starving the Romans inside. Ermanar entered his king's camp after being ordered so, in which Lugotorix greeted him warmly, "Ermanar, I shall set you to a most dangerous task; I only do so because I lay confident in your skills. Do you choose to accept?"

The Captain bowed proudly, "I do, my king. What would you have me do?"

"You are to venture south and scout the upcoming Roman advance. The longer we remain here trying to fight our way into the city, the closer Julius' legion approaches. I determined that if Segovax cannot tear through Samarobriva's defenses, we Britons shall have to move south and hold off Julius' Romans. I rather not become complacent and allow for the Romans to trap us and Segovax here outside Samarobriva."

"Yes, I understand, my king."

"That is not all I require of you, if I wanted for one to scout the Romans, I would have sent someone else. No, your task is of much more dire import. It appears that Cunovindus has lied to me in regards of an heir for Germania."

"How have you come by this?"

"I spoke to Segovax upon the matter of greeting the new Germanic king, but he spouts that Cunovindus never chose one, despite that Germanian shit telling me otherwise."

Ermanar furrowed his brow ardently, "So who rules Germania? What is happening?"

Lugotorix grumbled loudly, irritated that the Germanic people have resorted to this, "Segovax predicts that the tribes are quarreling amongst themselves like spoiled children for power, instead of keeping the Romans at bay in their own fucking lands. Among the tribes battling, Segovax speaks of one of the stronger tribes that may win claim. They are the Cherusci, and Andrasta smiles on us, as they are the northern most tribe of Germania. Their proximity to us also means that in a sense, they are the last line of defense before the Romans arrive." The Briton King pointed his long finger at him, "You, with a select few of men that you may pick personally, will go to the Cherusci lands and speak to their chieftain and try with your might to figure out what is going on with the tribes. You must convince the chieftain to stay off the Romans until Samarobriva is in our hands."

Ermanar nodded and replied with a confident smirk, "You make it sound that such a task is easy, my king."

Lugotorix raised the corner of his lips, "I am not beseeching you to form a peace between the Germanic tribes. I could care less if they destroy each other, but seeing as the shadow of Rome darkens by the day, all Segovax and I require, is for the strongest Germanic tribe to fight off the Romans. While you are there, gather any knowledge about the terrain, maps, whatever you can procure for us. If we must meet the Romans in Germanian lands, it shall be in the place that I choose."

"Your will, my action; my king." Ermanar bowed.

"Here, take this…" Lugotorix removed a leather necklace that was laced with small bones that held the emblem of the Great White Stag of the Britons and tossed it to Ermanar, "With this emblem, you shall show to all that you act as my voice and shall be treated with respect as if I am present. Show this to their chieftain, Segovax reveals his name to be Ricburgis. He is stricken with age and lost some of his sons at Praxus Hill, so answer questions and ask them with care, he may be overemotional. And remember, as soon as you have persuaded the Cherusci to fight the Romans, return immediately."

Ermanar snapped back to the present, he fondled the emblem that his king gave him, treating it as a prayer charm for his safe trip to the Cherusci village and back to his fellow kin. These people were on edge. Only a few short moments after crossing into Germanic land and he was set upon by Cherusci hunters. If it wasn't for his men, he might have been dead. He stood tense and alert, his biggest fear being that the Germanians would attack them, somehow figuring out that the Britons were responsible for Cunovindus' demise. Ermanar shook the ridiculous notion out of his head, the Britons killed every Germanian that was present, there were no witnesses. Well…at least that was what he hoped.

The lead Briton scout suddenly stopped his horse and raised his fist in the air. The Brittonic squad stopped in their tracks and fell deathly silent. Ermanar, who was in the middle, eyed the lead scout and noticed his head slowly turning side-to-side, scanning the forested area. Down this main road, the forest was dense and obscured the sun, fog floated above the snow, and many large stones were perched above the rises next to the road. With his vision obscured, Ermanar closed his eyes and concentrated on hearing his surroundings. He could hear a faint noise, sporadic, as if the snow was being crunched; someone was definitely watching them. This was a perfect place for an ambush, and by their bad fortune, they walked right into one.

Three spears came flying out the forest and sunk into the dirt road in front of the main scout's horse, startling the poor creature. The Britons flailed around as several missiles soared through the air, narrowly missing them.

"Draw your swords!" Ermanar shouted to his men! "Draw your swords! Keep low!" As the Captain grabbed the hilt of his sword, a phantom hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him from unsheathing his blade. He looked down and he saw a slender figure, wrapped in a thick cloak and with the face obscured by a hood, seizing his hand tightly. Where the fuck did he come from? The figure drew a dagger and crossed over his arm and placed the dagger right up against Ermanar's crotch.

The Captain winced hard as he could feel the sharpness of the blade line up against his most valuable member. His hands shot in the air, as he could see the figure chuckling in victory. Ermanar looked around and could see that they were surrounded by Cherusci archers and spearmen.

"I take it that you are in command?" the figure spoke to Ermanar. He looked down on the figure and squinted, the voice that came from the hood was soft and raspy, and oddly feminine. The figure continued, "Tell your men to dismount from your horses, or I shall separate you from your cock."

Ermanar inhaled sharply and ordered his men to do so. They all got off their horses and allowed for the Cherusci to take the reins of their stallions. Even though Ermanar got off his horse, the figure still had the dagger pressed against his groan. The Cherusci warriors got closer and held the rest of the Britons at sword-point.

"Who are you?" the figure coldly asked.

He smiled confidently, "I am Ermanar of the Iceni tribe of the Britons. I am the Captain of the Brittonic Army under the King of the Iceni, King of the Britons, and King of the Northern Isles, Lugotorix. These here are my men."

The Cherusci began murmuring loudly. The figure eyed the supposed "Captain" from head to toe. He was taller than the average man and had a strong build; he had short cinnamon brown hair and heavy dark stubble. His nose looked like it was a size too small and had a smile that could cut like a knife. He also had a large moon crescent-like scar over his left eye that accented his aggressiveness.

"Can you offer proof to such a claim?"

"I can, and when I prove ourselves to you, I request you remove your hood and grace us with your presence. But first you must allow me to reach within my pouch." The figure nodded, and Ermanar showed the Cherusci the White Stag emblem of the Britons. The figure examined it closer and deemed it genuine. And per agreement, the figure removed the hood. The Britons were speechless; the figure that commanded these Cherusci was a woman.

She was lean and long-legged, with curly brown hair cut short, a pug nose that looked as if it had been broken several times and was gifted with large, strong hands. She looked to be in her late 20s to mid-30s and had plain features which bordered on relative attractiveness. But the most daring of features that she possessed were her wild, golden eyes. They were narrow and cold as an animal, the true eyes of a brutal killer, Ermanar mused if their tribe used Screeching Women, and if so, then this woman would have been the captain of them.

"Who are you?" Ermanar asked with a raised brow.

"I am Biua of the Cherusci. For what are you and your band of fools doing on our lands?"

"How dare you speak to us in such a manner!" one of the Britons chastised, "Your missiles sought to end our lives just a moment ago!"

"Our aim was not at your hearts, only to fence in your horses. If we wanted you dead, your breath would have ceased long before."

"Mind your tongue, you impudent bitch," another annoyed Briton joined in, "Or I shall fuck your cunt bloody, you whor—"

"Silence!" Ermanar shouted at him, he turned back to the woman, "Apologies, forgive my men, they have been too long absent in the presence of women and fail to behave appropriately."

She raised an eyebrow, "Strange, and here I stood believing I was in such company."

All the Britons let out a horrible grumble. Ermanar politely smiled, seemingly shaking off the comment. "If we can return back to the matter at hand," You bitch of a cunt!

"Yes, explain why you are on our lands?"

"I would gladly, if you find it in yourself to remove your dagger from my cock," the Brittonic Captain motioned with his eyes.

"Not until you explain why you are here."

"We are here, on behalf of our king, to seek audience with the Cherusci chieftain, Ricburgis."

Biua's gaze sharpened and she muttered coldly, "To what matter do you wish to break words of?"

"The words that shall only reach the chieftain's ears, not your own."

"You shall not pass until I learn of what you wish to speak upon."

"Who do you think you are? I shall not mince words with you!"

"I am the daughter of Ricburgis, and heir to the Cherusci!"

The Britons' eyes grew large, Ermanar awkwardly laughed, "If only you revealed such knowledge sooner, forgive me for my words, but I insist that your father hears my king's words directly from my tongue."

"And I shall silence such errant tongue if you do not tell me what is for his ears."

Ermanar chuckled with false confidence, seeing if he can call her bluff, "You would kill a Brittonic Captain?"

"No," she pressed her dagger further in his groin, "But I would geld one." The cold eyes of hers did not lie; she would separate his precious cock if he pressed on ignoring her. And with a sweat-filled sigh, he relented.

"Fine, I wish to speak to your father on the manner of the Roman threat that is approaching your lands. It is of grave import that I speak to your father."

For the first time during the encounter, the eyes of Biua softened, as she removed her dagger from his genitals. "I see. If what you say is true, then I shall take you to my father. But note that your hands shall be bound as we travel."

"Truly?" a Briton incredulously asked.

"It is only a necessary precaution. Accept or fall from our lands." The Britons reluctantly extended their hands to be bound together and were escorted down the road with the Cherusci weapons still trained on them.

"Are we prisoners?" a Briton asked Ermanar in disbelief, "Please inform me how this exactly happened?"

"Close fucking mouth, and allow me to voice concern," Ermanar told him before turning to Biua to make small talk, "I am curious, is this how you treat your allies?"

"We are at war with fellow tribes; excuse us, if we are not in the most hospitable mood."

"That does remind me; please inform me of how Germania is not united, while a few weeks ago you stood as one?"

Biua sighed, "Unfortunately, our king, Cunovindus, neglected to appoint rightful heir among the tribes."

"So the first thing you all succumb to is to butcher each other like animals? No wonder the Romans call us barbarians."

"I would not come to expect an islander to understand the ways of the mainland," she said in a pout.

Because you fucking savages forced us off the mainland! Ermanar wanted to reach in front of him and choke the bitch with his own bindings. But he refrained from doing so and thought if Lugotorix was patient with the Gallic and Germanic kings, then he should be patient with a haughty chieftain's daughter. One of the worse things a man could say to a Briton was to comment on themselves being exiled from the land which used to be their home.

Ermanar spoke up, "Earlier upon mention of the Roman threat, your eyes softened in understanding. Did such a cause strike a nerve?"

"It did. You wish to broach my father upon subject, but I fear your words shall float emptily in the wind."

"To what do you mean?"

She was silent for a moment before cracking a heartfelt sigh, "I lost my two elder brothers when they fought against the Romans on Praxus Hill."

"Apologies for your loss."

"Gratitude for such words…we mourned for them, and I suggested that we attack the Romans in retribution for our fallen. But my father does not hold interest in such. He believes fighting the Romans is a lost cause. I believe that the battle has dispirited him, he is not the same man I remember."

"Then allow me to break words and see such opinions change."

"My father is well adamant in these thoughts."

He smirked arrogantly, "Do not underestimate us Britons."

"Does your king have such a silver tongue that you claim to have?"

"Oh yes, in fact, you can say that with his words he stole Cunovindus' breath away."

The Cherusci escorted the Britons until they arrived at their town. The Cherusci women and children came out of their huts and pointed at the bounded Britons, wondering if they were Suebi or Lugii. They had some menacing warriors looking down upon them with large battleaxes twice as big as a man's skull and warriors that towered in height close to Berserker level. But as Ermanar examined the Cherusci closer, he could see that some of them were sickly and thin, others were to the point of malnourishment. He also noticed the absent of several pet animals such as dogs, and the absent of several livestock. The food situation must have grown desperate. He was thoroughly surprised that these people were the most violent of the Germanians. If they were in this state because of the barren harvest, then he would hate to see the other tribes.

Biua told the gathering crowd to make a hole and allow them to pass. She took them to the town square and had the Britons placed under guard, all except Ermanar who she escorted to the main hut and told him to wait patiently outside; as she went in to speak to her father.

It only took thirty seconds until she came out and told him to enter the chieftain's hut. Upon entering the dark and musty smelling hut, the Brittonic captain's eyes fell on the chieftain, who was sitting on a cot wrapped in a thick blanket. Chieftain Ricburgis stood to his feet to greet him. He was an old man, probably in mid to late 60s. He was blind in his left eye and had teeth as yellow as urine, his skin was pasty and started to sag, and his hair was grey and loose like thread while his beard fell to his chest. Yet despite his disgusting features, his body was still a good size to be intimidating, Ermanar pondered that he must have looked like a mountain in his prime. And the longer Ermanar stared at him, the more he thought that he recognized him before.

Ricburgis slowly opened his mouth, and a hoarse, smoky voice emanated, "I have been told that you stand Briton. If such is true, reveal name and see yourself received."

"I am Ermanar of the Iceni tribe of the Britons. I am the Captain of the Brittonic Army. I humbly come before you with the highest deference and respects, oh chieftain Ricburgis of the Cherusci, as emissary to Lugotorix the Bloodyhanded, King of the Iceni, King of the Britons, and King of the Northern Isles."

Ricburgis nodded approvingly to his daughter, "He holds great manners and respect." Biua rolled her eyes. "So tell me, Ermanar, for what reason have you come south?"

"I was sent as emissary from my king. But before I discuss such terms…" Ermanar looked down at his hands bound together, "…May you please release me from these constraints, we are, after all, allies."

Biua spoke up, "Those are in place to ensure—"

"Biua!" Her father snapped and stared at her sternly, "Release his bindings, he is an ally and our guest."

Biua lowered her head and grabbed her dagger and cut loose the chafing ropes around Ermanar's wrists, her icy glare still focused on him, reminding him that she will still be watching him.

"Much gratitude," he told the chieftain, "Now about my men, I shall see them released from bondage as well."

"Father, we cannot—"

"Do it."

She gnawed on her lower lip and then went out of the hut and gave the command. The chieftain gave the Briton a pleasant smile, "Now please tell me, Ermanar, why do you grant us with a visit?"

The Briton spoke bluntly, "My king requires knowledge of the situation of Germania. Such as why are your tribes warring and why no heir has been picked to resume mantle of King of the Germanians. And how do you plan on dealing with the Roman threat?"

Ricburgis took a seat in his chair and drank some wine before giving a hoarse answer, "You Britons cannot understand the fragility of this situation."

"I understand that Cunovindus left no decisive heir or tribe to rule, but if there are mysteries still shrouded, then break words and see this ignorant mind enlightened."

The chieftain sighed, "The harvest. The gods did not bless the fields on this cruelest of seasons for us tribesmen in the north. But for the tribes south of us…their fields were rich with bounty. The unity of all the tribes ensured that trade would exist harmoniously with one another. But…come Cunovindus' demise in battle and no Heir-apparent, the tribes, who bonds extend from blood to hate, quickly broke off the Confederation to ensure that the tribes with the poorer harvest starved. With no alternative, I sent my kin to raid the lands of other tribes for the sake of food."

Ermanar spoke with condescendence, "You speak to me of complex factors, yet you present the situation as filled with pettiness and greed. This squabble of yours, the breaking of the unity; cannot all be for the sake of food?"

"It is not solely about food! It extends from generations of the warring tribes, older than my father's father, fighting for crimes that existed long in the past! But why should I regale you on such a struggle, I can look into your eyes and know that you do not care."

You are right, I do not. "All I voice is my king's concerns. Your war with your fellow tribesmen turns your concerns from the Roman threat over the horizon."

Ricburgis blankly stated, as if he was an innocent child, "What Roman threat?"

Ermanar's mouth fell open as he stared into the old man's face with utter confusion. He turned to Biua to see if this was a joke, but upon seeing her turn away in shame, he knew the chieftain was serious.

The Briton could not control the volume of his voice, "What do you mean, 'What Roman threat?' The fucking Twenty-Eighth Legion that destroyed your kinsmen two weeks ago! They are marching through the main road north! They could be on your lands any day now!"

"The Romans are far from concern. We are at war with the Lugii and the Suebi and we are on the cusp of winning."

"And tell me, how do you determine victories? In miles or bodies?" Ricburgis coldly stared at him for a brief moment, Ermanar continued, "Because I fear you shall lose both if you ignore the Romans like this."

"I am not ignoring the Romans, I know where our priorities lie."

Ermanar couldn't help but speak with dark sarcasm, "Oh apologies, you are right. The first priority is to ignore the power-hungry beast that is Rome that has just slaughtered your entire army and is now encroaching on your lands. Your people are most fortunate to have your priorities in order."

"Briton!" Ricburgis finally snapped, before having a dreaded coughing fit, "You may be an ally and envoy of your king...but know you tread dangerously on my hospitality! Do not question my actions."

"Apologies if I offend, but I only stress what needs to be done."

"And what does your king stress needs to be done?"

"He seeks that the Cherusci perform the original mission of Cunovindus and help us, Britons, fight the Romans."

The chieftain thought over the request for a moment before turning to Biua, who nodded in agreement with Ermanar. Ricburgis spoke, "I understand what your king asks, but this I cannot do."

"You refuse your allies' request?"

"Know that I do not base my choice out of malice or complacency. I support the continuing war against the Romans, but know that I cannot allow sending my kin to fight against the Romans."

"You send your people up in arms against your fellow tribes that number around the total of 6,000 men; yet, you would not send them against a legion of 5,000?"

"If we fight the Suebi and Lugii, we can win against them. We cannot, however, win against Rome."

"You could if you all united and chose for one tribe to lead."

"Why? And allow that tribe to dominate us?

"Continue to stall and you shall see a Roman heel dominate you all! Fight for the common purpose! Help us Britons, and the Gauls, fight against Rome."

"I shall offer prayers, but I cannot allow my people to fight them in proxy of your people."

Ermanar sighed in a mixture of frustration and disbelief, and buried his face in his hand. The Cherusci would rather fight other Germanians than fight the Romans. Their logic was truly astounding. Ricburgis took a drink from wine and continued, "If you seek our help, then give us aid first, help us vanquish the Suebi and Lugii and we shall lend assistance to you."

Ermanar shook his head, "We cannot do this. The Roman legion shall be upon Samarobriva before we can send you an adequate number of warriors. And by then we shall be struck from this world like cattle! Chieftain, offer a ceasefire and band the tribes so we can remove this dagger that looms under our throats."

"I recognize the dangers of Rome, but note that the dagger is not present at the moment, so we hold nothing to fear."

"What molds your mind into this decision?"

Ricburgis grew silent and drank some more wine before giving voice, "Praxus Hill." Ermanar exhaled and looked towards the ground. The chieftain continued, his voice filled with bitterness, "Two weeks ago, over 12,000 warriors fell before the swords of Rome who numbered half. I lost my two sons, Ricburgnas and Calafnar, in that battle who fought in my stead and 8,000 of our Cherusci kinsmen. Those that fled told me of the crushing defeat. My sons' bodies…irretrievable. Throughout the mourning period, the cries of my people rang out for what we have deemed an eternity. Rome is unstoppable…they will march over my people and crush us if we attack them."

For the moment, Ermanar looked as if he had grieved with the Germanians, "I…no words can express the loss of your valorous warriors, but this was the result of the foolish command of that bastard, Cunovindus. If command was placed under Lugotorix, then outcome of the battle would have been vastly different."

"You bite your tongue!" Biua exploded, "How dare you belittle our great king's name with your curses! He had the strength to unite all of Germania, his measure as a man was beyond of what you can fathom!"

"And yet he brought all of Germania to ruin with his idiocy. Face it, girl, he was arrogant, reckless, and a fool."

Biua sneered, "Cease with your disparaging! Cunovindus was strong, fierce; and intelligent! He now rests with Woden in peace."

Ermanar chuckled and spat off to the side, "I fear you elevate the dead beyond their worth."

"You did not know the man!"

Ermanar rolled his eyes, "I knew him better than you."

Before Biua could passionately shout in her late king's defense, a composed Ricburgis spoke first, "I remember you, Ermanar. I thought I have seen your face before, and now my addled mind fixed the puzzle. I saw you stand behind your king when he was meeting with Cunovindus and Segovax at the Hall of Montius, discussing the plans of attacking the Romans."

Ermanar had to think back to remember. He remembered the meeting but only vaguely recalled Ricburgis, he was one of the many retainers that Cunovindus had standing behind him and laughing whenever Cunovindus laughed. "Yes, yes, I remember you," the Briton said with an unsure nod, "You were behind Cunovindus, right?"

"Yes I was. And upon reflecting in the past and listening to your king speak about the appropriate strategy…I deem your criticism of our king right, he was a terrible fool."

Biua, shocked at her father's answer, said, "Father! How can you say such things about him of that nature?! He was a great, strong man who—"

"Bah," he said in disgust as he looked to his daughter, "He had twice the number the Romans had and lost in the worst defeat imaginable, and you say he was a great king? He got your two brothers killed, unless you have forgotten."

"I…have not…"

"Good, I taught you differently from blindly following any man." The chieftain turned to Ermanar, "You must understand, after that battle…I have come to realize that we cannot stand up to the might of Rome."

"But do you not care for the deaths of your sons?" Ermanar asked with a tinge of desperation, "Do you not seek to rain down the fire of vengeance upon them for robbing your sons of life?"

Ricburgis chuckled lowly, "You people who are blessed with youth are so warped by vengeance that you shall all become blind earlier than I. Although Cunovindus wasted my sons' lives, I know within my heart, my sons died like warriors. You ask me to think about my children, and I am. My people in my village are my children. I am thinking of their future. We have little food, and you want me to antagonize the Romans further? This I cannot do. Do I still hate the Romans and want to see them destroyed? Yes I do. But I know that if we attack, all that I still hold dear in this world shall be wiped out by Lucius Julius. Your king asks me to fight, yet I only follow your king's earlier advice in not fighting the Romans."

"But he called for cooperation of the three tribes, not for one army to recklessly attack!"

"But is that not what you are asking of us to do?" Ricburgis astutely asked as he sipped on his wine, much to Ermanar's chagrin.

Ermanar struggled to find the words after being trapped by his reasoning. Fortunately, Biua spoke in his defense, "Father, if we strike at the Romans, we can inflict a crippling blow unto them and allow for the Britons to destroy them!"

"Have you not been listening to what I have spoken?!" Ricburgis snapped, "If we attack the Romans, they would crush us and our rival tribes will swallow our lands! Do you not understand, Biua? We are in no position to fight them!"

Biua gnashed her teeth and left the hut in anger. Ricburgis buried his face in his hand, "She was always a stubborn woman." He looked up to Ermanar with reluctant eyes, yet spoke sternly, "Ermanar, gratitude for coming this way to discuss terms with your king. But know that I shall not commit the Cherusci to fight against the Romans, we have much to lose and very little to gain. I shall support you Britons in whatever way I can, but I will not sacrifice one Cherusci to fight against Rome. That is my final answer."

Ermanar bowed his head, subtlety gritted his teeth, and clenched his fist bitterly. He failed…he failed his king. He extended his pleasantries to the chieftain and left the hut feeling lower than snake shit.

As he left the hut, he was immediately surrounded by his men who were curious to hear if the chieftain accepted. To their dismay, Ermanar recounted the exchange. The men cursed quietly to themselves and spat on the Cherusci land, ashamed that this so-called, "fierce people" was ruled by a coward and were leaving the Britons out to dry. The irony was not lost on Ermanar, he considered that this was in retaliation from the gods in how the Britons abandoned the Germanians during their moment of crisis on Praxus Hill. But aside from their grumbling of the chieftain, another unfortunate matter came to them. They had to ride deeper south to scout the Roman advance and determine how many days the Britons had before the Romans would approach.

Ermanar told the dispirited Britons to mount their horses and prepare to leave. But before Ermanar did so, he saw a fuming Biua sitting under a large tree, sharpening her daggers. An idea for a last second agreement sparked in the Briton's head.

"I cannot believe your father said such things," he told her as he approached.

She scoffed and kept sharpening the knife, making sure every that every nick that was being smoothed was extinguishing her inner frustration, "My Father has grown soft ever since the battle! He does not understand the vital situation we are in!"

"Exactly, maybe you should break words with him once again, except in the tone of frightful daughter?"

"I have tried such things, he still remains adamant to change his thoughts."

He crouched to her level, "Well then…maybe it shall be time that your thoughts eclipse his towards your people…absent his knowledge."

Her face grew abrasive and she sneered, "You are mad! I will not go against my father!"

"But you know that my king speaks the truth! If the Romans seize Samarobriva, your people will be caught between Roman lands. And in this vise, the Romans shall seize all you claim for food and let you starve. And as you all grow weak, from feasting on mud, snow, and grass, and eventual hunger and madness claims you, Rome shall kill you all. Biua, lead your people away from this cruel fate!"

The Briton could see her facial expression change from irritation to a soft, perplexing bemusement. He could see the wheels in her mind turning as she actually considered for reign as leader of the Cherusci. For the men of the village to follow her command meant that they respected her abilities as a warrior and feared her as such. She was a leader, and better yet to Ermanar, she may be the leader that Lugotorix needed against the Romans.

"Ermanar!" Ricburgis called out as he hobbled out of his hut towards the Briton, "I may not offer my men to your king in the fight against Rome, but I offer advantage to your king's siege of Samarobriva."

Ermanar let out a confused chuckle and raised an eyebrow, "You speak in riddles? Please speak plainly."

The chieftain smiled as if he was a mischievous child, "I have a surprise that was left in the forest not too far from the village to the north by the Roman, Maxentius. Use it against the Romans, and treat it as favor from me to your king."

"What is it?"

"Your men must see it for themselves."

"Wait, my men?"

"Yes, in order to claim the prize, you must send all your men with three of mine to search in the forest for the prize. You must stay here."

"Why must I remain?" the Captain asked, not liking the way the conversation was steering.

"Because I have a purpose for you to remain here in my village," he said sternly.

"With the utmost respect, I would rather be with my men in searching of this "surprise". I am their Captain."

"If you are worried about their safety, to what will it concern? I will only have three of my men while your eleven will be by their side. They can handle themselves. But as you laid trust in me, I ask you lay trust in my decision."

"Trust?" I offered trust to you and you spat in my face! "Tell me, Ricburgis, if this can aid us against the Romans at Samarobriva, then why did you not give this "surprise" to Cunovindus when he first assaulted the city?"

"Because one year ago, the weather had deteriorated it to the point where it was beyond use. But my people have repaired it into working condition, and I offer it as a gift to you."

This surprise sounded like a siege weapon to Ermanar. And if it was, then its use would be invaluable. But why did he want all his men to roam in the woods to procure it, while he remained here by himself?

"If I may ask a question, do you have a map of your lands which extends to Samarobriva that you are willing to part with?"

Ricburgis nodded, "We do, and if you stay here in the village until your men return, you will be granted with the map that you need."

Ermanar thought about it. He needed the map for his king and for the army to obtain a siege weapon when the Romans at Samarobriva were at the breaking point, just sweetened the deal. He agreed with the chieftain's terms, at the same time praying to Andrasta that this would not be a huge mistake. Ermanar told his men, and to his expectation, they thought it was strange as well. Yet Ermanar convinced them that it would be for the greater good if they went roaming in the woods for the "surprise." The Britons mounted their horses, and with reluctant faces, they left their captain at the village.

"Good, now I trust you," Ricburgis came behind him with a smile. Ermanar inconspicuously grabbed his sword hilt, expecting a sudden knife in the back.

"What I trust is that you shall turn over my map," he asked, his voice holding a distinct irritation.

"Be patient, you shall have it when it is over."

The Briton's eyes shot up, "'It'? What is 'it'?"

"The negotiations." Ricburgis declared calmly.

"Wait, what? What negotiations?" Ermanar asked. He was soon interrupted by Biua who came rushing to him with news.

"Father, forward scouts report a large concentration of Romans approaching the village!" she bellowed as she was out of breath. "They wish to attack!"

Before Biua could run off to mobilize the warriors, Ricburgis placed a calm, paternal hand on her shoulder, "Be at peace. They are not wishing to battle, but to break words."

Both Biua and Ermanar yelped in unison, "What?!"

"And I accepted," Ricburgis said with utter tranquility. He turned to Ermanar, "The reason I requested you to be here alone is so that you may see the negotiations between us and Rome, and know that Rome wants no war with us. And as long as we keep an amiable peace between them, they will not come to harm us."

Ermanar was so confused by everything moving so quickly that he had nothing to say. But Biua was vocal enough for both of them, "Father! How long have the Romans been on our land?!" she demanded to know.

"This is their second day. Earlier in the morning they sent an emissary with letters of hopefully negotiating terms of trade and tribute later in the day, while you were absent in search of hunting earlier. And for the betterment of our kin, I accepted their terms to come to the village and speak to me."

"Father! Why is this now just gracing my ears?!"

His soft gaze transformed into a controlled glare, "Because I know that you will turn sword upon them at first moment. I have told the warriors to standby and allow them to pass and to not harm them. I will not give the Romans any excuse to destroy us. And you shall see that Rome can be merciful if you know how to speak to her."

Biua grinded her teeth and wanted to curse her father for being negligent. Didn't he talk to her as a little girl that Rome could not be trusted? Did the Praxus Hill battle really destroy his core beliefs after Rome took away their family? Has he finally lost the last sense he had?!

Ermanar spoke up with uneasiness, "For what reason would you or your people profit from such talks?"

"Promised safety. I shall not see my people destroyed by this army. Whatever I can say to ensure the Romans pass by our lands absent a drop of blood is my cause."

You despicable coward! Ermanar couldn't help but leer behind the chieftain's back. The Romans would shed blood regardless of what would happen. Maybe not now, but after they reclaimed Samarobriva and the Cherusci are surrounded on two sides, Rome will come and destroy them. How could he not see that? He would jeopardize the entire alliance for fear of his people's doom, which sounds admirable, but foolish in the long run. Ermanar eyed Biua with beseeching eyes for her to intervene, but she grudgingly shook her head, showing her helplessness in the situation. Her hands were tied and the Romans were already on the verge of entering their village.

A messenger came by and told the chieftain that the Romans entered the village and were on their way here. "Sheathe your weapons," Ricburgis shouted to all, "Do not aggravate them and stand with honor and respect towards them. I will not stand any signs of defiance towards their soldiers, translator, or their Commanders! Biua, Ermanar; stand by my side!"

"Chieftain, it is of utmost import that they must not know my identity as a Briton," the Briton pleaded as he stood uniform by the chieftain.

"I understand, your identity will not be revealed, you do not bear resemblance to us Cherusci, so say that you are a Gaul. Now fall silent, here they approach."

As the Romans were moving closer to the main square, a large crowd of Cherusci men, women, children, and warriors were following them in a swarming circle. Immediately, the Roman soldiers ran forth and took a large square formation around the square and stood sharply at attention. Ermanar counted about 100 men, all whose eyes were looking around, precariously gauging the size of the Cherusci tribe. A twinge of surprise hit him when he saw that half of these men were wearing the armor of the Roman Auxilia…the same ones who he witnessed at the Main Road. Before he could ponder on this more, a single Roman came pushing through the crowd and the soldiers, shouting in fluent barbarian tongue, "Make way! May way!" The formation of soldiers parted like a veil as the translator came through, followed by three horsemen, two wearing Roman armor and one wearing animal pelts.

"Make way!" the translator shouted to the chieftain, "Make way for, Commanders Proculus Julius and Commander Vitus Julius, the emissaries of Lucius Julius the Mighty, General of the Legio XXVIII."

Ermanar's jaw dropped. As he looked at the two Roman Commanders, he recognized them instantly from the skirmish on the main road during the Battle of Praxus Hill. He especially remembered the young, short Roman; he remembered vividly as the Roman stabbed the mighty Diomac repeatedly in the throat with his knife. Ermanar was locked in an inevitable gaze at the Romans, out of all the Romans that Lucius Julius could have sent in his stead, it was these two! This was either very lucky or misfortunate for Ermanar, he could not determine at this spontaneous coincidence. But when he looked closer at the horsemen covered in pelts, the Briton almost suffered a heart attack.

The man who was wearing pelts, unknown to Ermanar that his name was Cassius, was the same man that saw him after the clash on the Main Road and chased after him in the woods. He could not fathom that he was here as well. Ermanar broke into a cold sweat; he could feel his heart race within his own chest. If this man recognized Ermanar and alerted the Romans, then everything that Lugotorix had planned for would be for naught, and even worse, Ermanar might not make it back alive.

Ermanar trembled subtlety, Biua glared at the Romans, while Ricburgis walked forth to the two young Romans on horseback and said with a sincere smile, "Greetings to you countrymen of Rome! I am Ricburgis, chieftain of the Cherusci, welcome to our lands!"

My second chapter focusing strictly on barbarians. I kind of like this change of perspective when I write, gives a more surreal feel of events when you hear it from both sides.

I would like to thank everyone who is continually reading this fic. I want you all to note that it is keeping me committed to the story. Truly, thank you all!

-Kanuro5