Notes from Kanuro5: This chapter has been painful to write. I was so busy with everything involving college that it felt like ages finishing this. But I tried my best, I personally thought that I rushed near the end, but I had a lot of stuff I wanted this chapter to cover, but I omitted due to sheer length. Enjoy!
XXII
Before Things Worsen
After receiving the warm greeting by Ricburgis, Proculus, sitting tall and proud on his stallion, nodded and said, with Arminius translating, "Gratitude for welcoming us unto your lands. As envoys of Lucius Julius, I expect that we shall be treated with respect as if Lucius himself was present."
"Of course, of course," the old man said, "You and your son here will be treated with the utmost respect of our people."
Proculus broke into a loud snicker. Vitus closed his eyes and groaned to himself. Vitus spoke through his teeth to Ricburgis, with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment, "I am not Proculus' son, I am his younger brother."
The chieftain's bowed and quickly uttered, "I ask forgiveness! I-I-I only assumed—forgive me!"
Biua sneered loudly. How undignified! A chieftain of the Cherusci groveling to a mere Roman boy. Why did her father lower himself like this?
Proculus leaned in towards his brother and discreetly whispered with a juvenile tone, "I guess father's notion about your height was not completely false."
"Hold your damn tongue," he whispered back through his teeth, his cheeks flushing with blood.
"Father," Biua said, low enough where Arminius could not hear, "For what reason must you apologize to them?"
"Be silent, daughter!"
Proculus turned his head and examined the girl, "Who might this be that stands before us?"
"She is Biua, my daughter and Heir of the Cherusci."
As Proculus looked down on Biua, he made his judgment of the Cherusci heir. Honestly, she wasn't that bad looking. Her body was appealing; nice form, meaty thighs, long legs, her breasts didn't look that bad either. Her face was decent, almost even cute. He had seen better barbarian beauties, but she was alright. The only disconcerting feature about her was her cobra eyes that she gave him and his brother; a belligerent glare that could strip off the armor of the soul, and reveal the true intent of one's heart.
"A pleasure, my dear Biua," the elder Julius said, bowing and forcing his sensual bedroom gaze to ease her glare. She glared harder.
"A pleasure as well," Vitus followed suit, actually unable to even look at her face.
"Charmed…" she replied dryly.
"So…" Proculus said, trying to push the awkwardness along, until he laid eyes on the barbarian standing next to Ricburgis, who didn't quite fit in with the rest of the Cherusci, "And who is this man that stands by your side, Ricburgis?"
Ermanar swallowed hard, Ricburgis paused before introducing him, "He is…Ermanar, a valued warrior who shall be sitting beside me during our negotiations."
Both Romans extended their greetings, in which Ermanar awkwardly and uncomfortably returned. Then, the Briton's eyes met with Cassius' eyes, the bodyguard shot up in his stirrings and his eyes grew as wide as the moon.
Ermanar could feel his heart leap out of his chest. He tried to look away, but he could still feel Cassius' shocked stare linger on him. He kept looking at Proculus to see if he would be alerted by these spastic actions. Yet the Roman did not notice, neither did his younger brother. This gave the Briton the courage to slowly turn his head, to peek at the inquisitive bodyguard.
Cassius didn't move, his face remained locked on Ermanar; he didn't even utter a word towards Proculus. If any stranger noticed Cassius' gaze, they would conclude that he recognized Ermanar from somewhere, put where exactly was anyone's guess.
"Dear Commanders," Ricburgis said, "Allow me to offer you two rest in our Meeting Hall, I have food and drink prepared for your arrival. There, we will speak upon Lucius' request."
"Agreed," Proculus said with a cordial smile.
The Cherusci led the Romans and a small number of Roman and Thracian soldiers, including Oroles and Ligadis, towards the Meeting Hall. On their way, Vitus peered across the village in considerate detail. Although he saw a good number of warriors, he saw emaciated women and children look upon them with eyes filled with confusion, fear, and pain. He saw few livestock but he did notice a full stable of horses, so they must not have been that desperate. As his horse trudged through the snow, he couldn't see a single blade of grass perforate through the crunched snow. The atmosphere of the entire village was so filled with…bleakness, that he could begin to understand what it meant to truly starve.
"Proculus," Vitus whispered, "Do you not see the state of these people?"
The eldest looked around, "I do…they seem so…weak, pathetic even. This is the strongest tribe of Germania? Were the others just that weak?"
"Or maybe this winter is too strong for mortal flesh."
"You may be right. Hmm, seizing their food may be tougher than anticipated. But we cannot return to Father absent proper tribute."
"…I know." Vitus didn't like it. He knew the legion needed the food. Lucius told them of how much they needed, at least two days' worth. They have come so far, and for it all to end because of attrition? Vitus could not accept this. It was a tough decision, but in terms of life, it was either Roman life, or barbarian life.
"Anyway, brother," Vitus continued, "As you converse with the chieftain, should I speak, or shall I be silent?"
"I have the valued experience in speech with them, but you are sharp of mind, if something foul sticks out and I do not catch it, speak your heart."
As they neared the Meeting Hall, several Romans assisted the Julius brothers off their horses and took their horses away as the entire Roman force that they entered with, took formation around the Meeting Hall. Biua looked on scornfully, envisioning that they shall now be trapped by a hundred blades of steel. Seeing her face and reading her mind, Arminius spoke to her with a cocky smile, "Never hurts to exercise the necessary precaution." She quickly scoffed and opened the door for the Roman guests.
The Cherusci presented a small rectangular table to the brothers that held plates of cooked goats and cups of wine. As the Romans entered the warm hall, Cassius removed Proculus' fur pelted coat, revealing to the barbarians his arm in a sling.
Before Proculus and Vitus could sit, Biua extended her hand and ordered, "I must ask you two to relinquish all weapons that you carry on you."
Proculus' eyebrow shot up, "Apologies, but that is something we cannot do."
"I do not believe I gave you a choice," she said with fire lighting her eyes.
"Biua!" Ricburgis raised his voice, before turning to the Romans. "Apologies, my daughter only offers stipulations that have always been in place, but absent consideration of her guests!" he sneered to her.
Vitus placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Proculus, let us comply with their wishes, as long as our men keep their weapons, it shall be alright."
Proculus eyed the scornful women once more, but ultimately allowed for their weapons to be taken. He removed his gladius and dagger from his side and handed them over to a Cherusci warrior. Vitus removed his gladius from his side as well, and reached behind his back to remove his hidden dagger.
Biua quickly seized his dagger and inspected it, "For what reason do you carry this dagger behind your back?" she genuinely asked him in curiosity.
"Because the enemy does not expect it and it stays away from their reach," he confidently told her.
She nodded silently in actual approval and handed the dagger over to her fellow warrior. "This only serves as precaution for safety of all parties," she said to them, but eyed Arminius, as she herself removed her daggers from her waist, as did Ricburgis.
Ricburgis sat down in the middle of the opposite end of the Romans, with Biua and Ermanar sitting beside him. The Roman brothers took their seats as well, with Cassius sitting besides Proculus, while the Roman soldiers stood firmly behind the Commanders.
"Apologies, but do you allow your retainer to dine with you?" Biua asked.
"Cassius here, is as a brother to me, he is dearly trusted and shall be treated as an extension of myself."
Cassius turned to Proculus and smiled at him, "Gratitude for such words," he then turned back his focus on Ermanar.
Ricburgis stood up and raised his cup of wine to the Roman brothers, "Proculus Julius and Vitus Julius, it is with great hospitality and earnest heart that I extend for you to dine at my table and drink my wine. May we tend to repair broken paths in our people's long and bloody history! As Woden as my witness, I treat you as honorable guest!"
Ricburgis, Biua, and Ermanar downed their wine. Proculus nudged Vitus to follow the customary hospitality. Vitus had to take his time; his body was still adjusting to the potency of wine, while his elder brother consumed the wine as if it was water.
"Is the wine to your liking?" Ricburgis asked.
"It is," Proculus politely smiled, "Of the finest quality. Rich and strong! Do you not agree, Vitus?"
A raspy cough was all that the younger brother could reply with. Proculus looked towards Cassius to seek his answer, and he caught the stare that he was giving to Ermanar.
"Cassius!" he said with a smile, "Your eyes have lingered on this man for a moment. You have recognized him before?" the Roman joked, "Who is this man?"
Ermanar cursed himself and begrudgingly raised his head as Proculus mentioned him. He held his breath; his heart was beating so loud that he was sure the Romans could hear.
A startled Cassius snapped out of his stare and stammered to Proculus, "Uh…um…I-I-I, I apologize Proculus…I did not mean to stare at this man." He turned to Ermanar, "Apologies…um, you said your name was 'Ermanar'?"
"Uh…that is my name," the Briton replied, his heart now in his throat.
Cassius awkwardly smiled, "Apologies, Ermanar. Your face looked familiar and resembled a man I once knew. I hope I did not sully your mood with my gaze."
The Briton exhaled out all of his anxiety, his frantic heart began to calm, and he returned a smile, "It is alright, no offense was given."
"You thought he resembled another man?" Proculus asked Cassius, he then turned to Ermanar, "Apologies if I overstep, but you do not look to be Cherusci, what are your origins?"
Before Ermanar could say a word, Ricburgis stepped in with a hearty chuckle, "Oh Ermanar, is a wandering Gaul that we extend our hospitality to."
Cassius' face lit up with joy and he could barely contain his voice, "You are of Gallic blood as well? As am I! I thought we were nearly erased from this world," he chuckled.
The Briton was dumbfounded. Was this really happening? The best thing Ermanar could do was crack a surprise smile and just roll with this incredible turn of events. "By Woden! I cannot believe I meet another Gaul!"
"Please tell me," Cassius continued, brimming with enthusiasm, "From what tribe do you hail?"
"Oh…uh my tribe…I come from the…Arverni."
"As do my ancestors!" Cassius laughed. "Gods above! To think that I would find a kin this far north!"
"The Gods do smile on you, Cassius!" Proculus honestly stated as he patted his bodyguard on the back.
"Cassius, we must converse privately once this negotiation is over and regale each other of shared histories!" Ermanar said towards his "kin".
"I agree, we must speak upon this later"
"It is truly astounding, Ricburgis, that you would treat this wandering Gaul with such warmth," Vitus astutely remarked.
"I am of a hospitable nature, Commander," Ricburgis said warmly, "The gods have seen fit to bless me with mercy and kindness."
Vitus turned serious, "So does such blessings of 'mercy and kindness' extend to the invasion of others' lands?"
The atmosphere in the hall lost its joviality and morphed into an air of awkwardness and solemnity. Proculus gave his brother a sideways glance of frustration. The previous mood was great to gently ease into the nature of this visit, but now that Vitus had just up and slammed the issue at the core, gaining the tribute for the legion was going to be more difficult.
"You Romans know all about what it means to invade the lands of others," Biua coldly spat as she sipped from her cup.
"Yes, it is one of our strengths," Proculus chuckled, trying to reel in the previous mood, "And may I suggest that such actions are necessary to all people in this world, to only increase their lands is necessary for survival. Do you not agree, Vitus?" The stare he gave his brother, visually told him to reel in his accusations. But Vitus continued.
"Agreed, brother. I only break words that such necessity for a people to survive is a marvelous trait, even when it extends to an already conquered people, like Ermanar. I offer no offense, Ermanar," Vitus sincerely told him, "I just find Ricburgis' offers of neighborly love to a Gaul, truly extraordinary, especially in this tough season."
Proculus' eyes widened. This brother of mine, he thought with a smirk, coming to an understanding of what Vitus was saying. The fact that the Cherusci, who were starving and food was scarce, would waste food and drink upon a complete stranger who is not even a Germanian by blood was truly strange. Maybe Ricburgis was just as generous as he let on, but if his people were starving, this was not likely. Something strange existed between Ermanar and Ricburgis.
"It is true that my people are conquered," Ermanar said, trying hard to think of a subject changer to get all this attention off of him, "But we are all barbarian by distant blood. Gauls, Germanians, we share a distinct lineage and pantheon that unites us. So it is through Ricburgis here who I extend mighty gratitude for taking me in. But if I may voice my own concerns, absent offense, Commander, it is "truly extraordinary" that you Romans take in a Gaul at your side."
"As I have told Biua," Proculus spoke up, "Cassius here is as a brother to me, he has distinguished himself not from the blood in his veins, but from the character of his heart. He has become my trusted bodyguard."
Ermanar's eyes shot open and his jaw dropped as he chuckled loudly. "Do my ears hear truth? Cassius, are you really this man's bodyguard?"
Cassius smiled back, "I cannot believe it either. I am the bodyguard to a Roman who is highly established within the legion. Can you not believe this?"
Ermanar laughed hard, "A Gaul bodyguarding a Roman, the gods truly have a sense of humor."
"Oh the gods are filled with the most marvelous forms of humor," Biua laughed darkly, "It must be true if a Gaul is willing serves under a Roman."
"Care to repeat such words, woman!" Proculus growled.
"Biua!" Ricburgis shouted, before a coughing fit seized his lungs.
"I do not mean to be disrespectful, chieftain, but your daughter has shown nothing but rudeness, like a child since, our arrival. She may need to be excused from this negotiation."
"She shall not," Ricburgis told him, his voice filled with heaviness, "She is my only living child and is Heir to the Cherusci. She remains in this Hall."
"But that does not excuse her crude actions against us and our men," Vitus added.
"I agree. She shall remind herself where she sits. But do forgive her, we as a family, are within the most difficult position."
"To what do you mean?"
The chieftain sighed and spoke to the brothers with sadness filling his heart. "It may have been weeks ago, but no heart can ever move on after losing family in battle. Proculus and Vitus Julius, I lost my two sons against your superior, Lucius Julius, at the Battle of Praxus Hill."
The brothers stiffened uncomfortably. Both of them looked at one another, trying to find what words to say. How do you barter with a broken old man who lost both of his sons in a Crushing Defeat?
"Oh…uh…apologies for you and your family," Vitus sincerely apologized.
Biua scoffed, "Truly? For what cause must you apologize? You won, did you not?"
Vitus softly pressed his teeth on his bottom lip in discomfort, never before had he placed in such a situation. "Well…it may have been a victory, but it is always an injustice for one to lose a valued kin in battle."
Biua laughed darkly and raised her eyebrows, and derisively said, "'Injustice?' For those who die valiantly is an 'injustice?'"
"N-N-No! That is not what I meant!" he stammered apologetically.
"You state it is an 'injustice' that over 12,000 warriors of Woden died to ensure the safety of their lands?!" Biua's face contorted in anger, "You voice opinion that their defeat was a mockery to their families who shall never once hold them in their arms again?!"
"O-Of course not," the young Roman said, quickly becoming more distressed in his offense with each passing second, "I do not place discredit on them—I just…I did not mean—"
"Do not rile my brother in such a manner!" Proculus growled to the scornful woman, "Do not twist his words against him! You know what he meant. He only states facts that in this primitive world of ours, that war and bloodshed are inevitable in this life and are used to settle trivial matters. All that matters is how one fights and dies, like a true warrior. And as a personal witness to the battle, I can assure you that every Germanian on that field died like a warrior, one of the bravest warriors I have ever seen. They died valiantly, as did our men. There will be plenty of Roman sisters and fathers who shall weep bitterly knowing that their sons and brothers will never return. So we do offer apologies for your brothers' demise, but know that they had died like true warriors."
"…Gratitude for such words," the chieftain finally said. His voice was low and raspy, as if he was crying to himself on the thoughts of his deceased sons. But his eyes were dry and his face as composed as granite, he just received some of the finest closure he had in the past few weeks. "Know that such words have aided this old man's heart." He turned to his daughter, "Biua, I express your pain, know that I do, but know that they are at peace in the Eternal Rest, forever severed from this cruel world of Man."
The Cherusci Heir bowed her head and contemplated her father's words. Her beloved elder brothers were forever stripped away from her, but at least they were resting easy and fighting on with the rest of the Germanic warriors in the afterlife. Biua looked up to the elder Roman, she smirked at him and leered with venomous eyes, "You offer cooling words about loss and family, but wait until you lose a kin that you hold close to heart, and I wonder if you shall remember your own words."
"If I may offer voice," Ermanar spoke up to the Romans, "May you regale us with the nature of such negotiations that you have arrived for?"
The brothers exhaled in subtle frustration. This would be the most impactful moment of this meeting and possibly the most dangerous. A tense situation was diffused, but now this topic was going to virtually relight the entire argument, but this time the Romans could not offer any kind words of solace; just cold, brutal demands, facts, and threats.
"Very well…" Proculus sighed after clearing his throat, "…Under the direct orders of General Lucius Julius the Mighty of the Legio XXVIII, to show the utmost fealty to Rome and her people, all tribes of Germanic origin must pay a direct tribute to the residing Roman commander of the Legions of Germania, currently that is Lucius Julius himself. Such tribute includes, but is not limited to: crops, livestock, currency, oils, skins, and weaponry to supplement the soldiers of Rome. If you shall refuse, it shall be interpreted as a direct act of defiance, and you and your people shall face the dire consequences of the greatest legion of Rome. Such tribute shall consist of half of what the tribe owns and shall be gathered immediately. Do you pose any questions?"
All the Germanians in the Hall fell silent, as if a phantom swooped into their lungs and stolen the precious air to breathe. Never before had Ricburgis' jaw fallen so low. "Questions?" From where to begin?
"D-D-Did you utter, 'tribute'?" Biua asked, her face locked in disbelief.
"Indeed I did," Proculus replied.
"But that—'half?' We cannot pay in that form," Ricburgis explained with sorrow-filled eyes.
"And why is that not possible?"
"Because—we simply do not have that amount, especially in the forms of food, we cannot give you half for if this comes to pass, my people will starve."
"I understand the barrenness that plagues your fields, but Rome demands whatever you have," he said unflinchingly.
"I fear…that Rome shall receive little from our people, not for lack of deception, but of scarcity."
Proculus frowned and scratched his temple, "Must we seize all of the fat that you hoard from us?"
"But we only have the gristles on our bones!"
Both brothers looked at each other flatly. Proculus raised a thick, roasted goat's leg from the table into the air for all to see.
"'Gristle', eh?" he said with a smirk.
"That—this is only a…token of celebratory gesture," Ricburgis said quickly, "To well gorge the appetite of my guests."
"Or," Vitus said, "Maybe it is you and your family who gorge on such succulent food while your people starve?"
"Do not dare accuse me of such!" Ricburgis hissed, finally showing his authoritative presence. "Do not accuse me of such barbaric acts. I will do anything to save my people."
Vitus nodded approvingly, "Such words lifts heart, but know that if you want to save them, then give over tribute to us."
The chieftain exhaled in anxiety, "But to do so would damn my people to hunger, and that I cannot do."
"Well," Proculus stepped in, "You can either damn your people by hunger and see if you hold a chance at surviving winter; or, you can damn them by the sword. And I ensure you, that our men shall be all too eager."
Biua made an audible growl and gave the eyes of death to the Roman brothers. Her hands inconspicuously moved under the table and wrapped her hand around the handle of a secret dagger, strapped to the underside of the table. But before any action could be taken, Ricburgis discreetly placed a calming hand on his daughter's arm.
Vitus began, "This sensitive terms of tribute for your people, may be hard to accept. But you must know that we have collected tribute in the past from other tribes and we have vanished immediately from their lands. If you comply with us, we shall leave you and your tribe alone; you have my word and the word of General Julius. After our victory that shall come at Samarobriva, we shall return back to our lands in the spring, and do note that you shall be amply rewarded for aiding Rome when she called upon you to lend aid. Rome does not forget." Vitus reassured. "So please see it in your best interest to give—"
"ENOUGH!" Biua shrieked, slamming her hands on the table, startling everyone in the Hall. She was panting wildly in burning anger and gnashed her teeth. Ermanar looked over to the chieftain, hoping that he would restrain his daughter. But his head was lowered to the food, refusing to look at his daughter, yet not out of shame. He knew his outspoken daughter will voice his concerns, perhaps to a greater emotion than he could emote so that the Romans could see how dire this tribute will be for them.
"You dare treat us as dirt?!" Biua shouted to the brothers, "You come to our lands and demand claim of what our people have toiled endlessly for. And you expect us, like obedient dogs, to bow before you and give you all that we own?!"
Proculus smiled and simply said, "Of course."
The woman clenched her fist tightly, "What makes you hold mind towards our obedience to this despicable agreement?! Why should we hand over our food and livelihoods?" she snarled.
"Because you and your ilk only exist as simple vassals to Rome."
Her voice rose an octave, "'Vassals?!' We are no vassals, we are the proud Cherusci!"
"Do you possess an army the size of the Twenty-Eighth Legion? Do the Germanic people as a whole have an army greater than our legion?"
"…No…"
The elder Roman shrugged with a chuckle, "Then you are our vassals."
Biua slumped back in her chair and nodded with a dark grin and said slowly, "You shit eating Roman."
"Biua!" Ermanar said through his teeth. The Roman bodyguards looked angered at such a curse, yet Proculus sat as he was, cool as ice with his smug smile still intact.
"Who do you think you are?" Biua continued with her angered grin, "I bet your cock rises at the thought of destroying our people."
Proculus chuckled, "I am Proculus of the Julii and my brother is Vitus of the Julii, we are the sons of General Lucius of the Julii, the General of the Twenty-Eighth Legion. I speak for my father and I voice his opinions of you barbarians. You are a dying breed of creatures, who could either seek a painful and inglorious death in your pathetic ignorance, or embrace the civilized hand of Rome and greet a magnanimous end." He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrow, "But…if you seek to discover what could make my cock rise, how about you serve your people and me back in our encampment?"
The malevolent grin quickly fell from her face. She grabbed the hidden dagger under the table and removed it halfway, before her father seized her hand yet again. This entire action was performed in discretion. She did not remove her death glare from Proculus, and she was joined by her father as well, who would rather the gods skin him alive than see his daughter's body sold for pleasure.
"Let us stray from heated words and return to the matter before us," Vitus mediated, standing from his seat and extending his hands to both parties.
"To the depths of fire!" Biua cursed, "No matter exists for you lowly thieves!"
Proculus coyly laughed, "Actually, beautiful," he couldn't help to throw in, "We are collecting from you what is properly owed. You lot are the thieves as you raid from other tribes."
"Out of necessity! If we do not, we appear weak to them, and the tribes will destroy us! The winter winds are harsh to us that we cannot produce crops!"
"How you not tried to hunt for game?" Vitus asked.
"We have. But random bands of brigands, who are of mixed blood origins, raid our lands and hunt the game on our lands for themselves! They seize what is ours and this culminates in our suffering! But tell me, if you seize our food, we shall have nothing and we will die before the spring! This is fact. How shall we survive?"
"Gods below!" Proculus cursed lowly, "We do not know! Say a prayer to the Earth Mother and pray that she melts the snow and produces crops! Or something to that effect."
"So you refuse to aid us, and you steal our food," she slurred. The bitterness and despair in her voice, reverberated in Vitus' heart. He wanted to extend a form of apology to her and her people; they would not make it past the winter. Innocent barbarian women and children were going to die so his people could live. It was the natural order of nature, but it left a foul taste in his mouth.
"You all have survived for centuries in worse weather, you all could survive this winter," Proculus reminded them, "In the meanwhile, I order in the words of my father, for you to collect a tally of all that you own and prepare for transport. By Roman law, I decree it so. Ricburgis, do you accept the terms?"
Biua shouted, "This is not actual law! This is ROMAN LAW!"
Proculus smugly smirked to her as he placed both hands behind his head and reclined in his chair. "Is there any other form of law?"
"You Roman bastards, this cannot stand in—"
"I accept the terms…" Ricburgis finally spoke.
All the barbarians in the Hall snapped their heads to their chieftain, utterly shocked at the heinous terms that he accepted. Ermanar eyed the Cherusci chieftain in complete bewilderment, Biua, pale from shock, looked as if her soul was ripped from her body.
"Father…?" she said weakly, almost as if she was in a daze.
"I accept your terms, Proculus." He said again, his head bowed in shame. He could not see his people destroyed by the Romans.
Proculus smiled and stood from his seat, "You exemplify the greatest wisdom, Ricburgis. It lifts the heart to hear you accept."
Ricburgis turned to his livid daughter, "My dear Biua, I need you to collect a tally of all food, livestock, skins, weapons, and oils…and prepare them for transport. Do it now."
His daughter looked at him intently, but said nothing. She bitterly nodded and left the Hall, leaving a trail of sullenness in her wake.
Ricburgis stood to his feet, his dignity in shambles but still showing outward pride to his new masters. Proculus extended a hand forth, Ricburgis examined the young Roman palm for a moment, but he extended his hand out nonetheless and both men shook hands. Ermanar stared on, his expression illustrated total disbelief in this historic scene. A barbarian tribe actually signing its own death contract. He clenched his fist and silently exhaled in frustration—Germanians were a worthless people.
"Now do you see the madness of Rome?!" Ermanar asked Ricburgis as he followed him back to his hut.
With the meeting between Rome and the Cherusci adjourned, the Romans left the Meeting Hall and oversaw the gathering of their tribute, making sure that nothing was skimmed from the taking and that everything was in order. As this was happening, Ricburgis went to retire to his hut, wishing complete solitude from his people; he stood unable to look upon their withered, helpless faces.
Yet Ermanar quickly followed him. His mission to ally the Cherusci with the Briton against Rome was tearing at the seams. He had to try something, say anything, to get the Cherusci chieftain on his side; and he refused to return a failure to his king.
The Briton continued with his harassing, "The people you claim that you hold no qualms about are going to allow your people to suffer the ultimate indignity. Starvation in winter. Ally with us Britons, and together we can crush this legion!" The Germanic chieftain picked up his pace without saying a word. "You still fall silent? Ricburgis, this is bigger than your tribe, commit yourself to our cause and aid us against the Romans." He still remained silent. "Woden damn you! Break words upon your next actions!"
As Vitus was ordering some legionaries to perform a last second inventory check before they shortly left, his peripheral vision caught the forms of Ricburgis and Ermanar storming back to a hut. The young Roman scratched the back of his head, feeling a shaming pain in his chest. He looked around at the crowd of starving Germanians with expressions of disdain and sorrow written clearly on their faces as they watched helplessly as their possessions were taken before them.
The young Roman inhaled and exhaled, and called over Arminius to accompany him as he walked over to Ricburgis' hut. Seeing his brother move away from the maniple of Roman soldiers, along with Arminius, Proculus ran over to Vitus' side, along with Cassius behind him.
"Vitus," he said, patting him on the back, "To where do you go? Come back, we are near conclusion of collecting the tribute."
"Brother," Vitus sighed with a tinge of nervousness, "I seek to hold a private audience with Ricburgis."
"What?!" he exclaimed, "For what purpose?"
"I need—I seek," he struggled to find the right words, "I must reassure the chieftain that the situation of his people shall improve, my heart is filled with pain at his helplessness."
"What form of shit spews from your mouth?! Why do you pity the man?!"
"I just need to do this." Vitus looked behind his shoulder, "You should accompany me as well. Imagine the fortitude of a leader showing compassion to his subjects, the Cherusci may respect you more about after such signs of wellbeing to their chieftain."
Proculus sighed, "I guess you make sense. But let us not make a habit of this."
As soon as Ricburgis entered the doorframe of his hut, he fell backwards on his cot and drank from a pouch of wine. But before he could truly relax, Ermanar entered the hut, still demanding an answer.
"You seek my answer?" the old chieftain said, thoroughly irritated.
"I do! Align yourself with us!"
"To what end?" the Germanian asked, "My answer is the same. I will not endanger my people further."
"What?! After the Romans pissed in your face, you embrace it as a warming stream?!"
"I did not say that," he growled. "What is the point of battle when my people are already weak from hunger? But do tell me, my dear Briton, can you distinguish the reason behind my answer in agreeing to the Roman terms?"
Ermanar groaned and rested his face in his palm, "Why do you speak in riddles, old man? For what reason did you accept?"
"Because I knew that we can still obtain food from an appreciative source."
The Briton's eyebrow raised in intrigue, "Truly? From where?"
Ricburgis smiled, "From you and your people."
"What? To what do you refer?"
"It is simple, the way that our lands suffer from winter, the further north one goes, the worse it is in the source for food. But since Samarobriva is at the summit of the mainland, and the closest city to the Isle of Britons, your king sends ships filled with food back and forth to the mainland to keep your army's bellies filled. That is how you Britons survive. I know it to be true."
Ermanar crumpled his brow and squinted his eyes. He said slowly, "So what if it is? What import does it hold?"
The old man gave a paramount glare to the Brittonic Captain, "As Chieftain of the Cherusci, I demand the Britons to supply the Cherusci people with their share of food. Run immediately to your king and tell him I said that."
Ermanar cracked up in a fit of hysterical laughter. "You demand for us to give you our food? Did I hear that correctly? Why by Woden's mercy, shall we do that? Actually, we shall only comply if you attack the Romans for us. If you do not, then no food shall be delivered to you."
"I told you, I cannot do that. But you shall give us your food, whether you like it or not."
"Is that a threat?"
"It is for the beholder to decide. But, I state that you owe us, and that we hold the strings that bind you."
Ermanar walked closer to the chieftain, his steel face as cold as winter, "Cease with the fucking riddles…how do you control us?"
Ricburgis sipped from his wine and stated, "I kept secret your identity today from the Romans. To know that a Briton spy was here would have proven invaluable for their mission. But then again…" Ricburgis coldly stared at the Briton, "The Romans are still here, a pity what might occur if they discovered such treachery."
Ermanar's eyes shot wide open. He backed away slowly, "You…You would not dare…"
"The boy did say, 'Rome does not forget'. If I bring them you or inform them of you, I shall be amply rewarded. And who knows, possibly, they may return some of our food."
"Why do you say such things?! Why consider such betrayal?!" Ermanar hypocritically shouted.
"Because you come before me with cryptic message from your king about a suicide attack on the Romans, I shall not see my people destroyed for your benefit. So now, I take the reins, you shall go back to your king and have him deliver us food, or I shall inform the Romans all about you and Lugotorix."
Ermanar bit his lower lip and a hot wave of anger filled his body. Not only did Ermanar fail to form an alliance with the Cherusci and the Britons, but now he was being blackmailed into aiding the Cherusci? You cowardly Germanic cunts! But before the Briton could voice his thoughts, Arminius' Germanic voice rang outside the hut.
"With great pardons, Chieftain Ricburgis, but Commanders Proculus and Vitus request a private audience."
The two barbarians recomposed themselves from their heated conversation. "You may enter."
The brothers, Arminius, and Cassius entered the dank hut, and were surprised that only Ermanar was inside the hut with the chieftain, but the men quickly counted it as a blessing that the volatile daughter was absent from her father's side.
"To what more do you wish to speak upon?" the annoyed chieftain asked.
Proculus mundanely sighed, but Vitus stepped up and spoke softly, "Ricburgis, I…I come before you to personally commend you in this truly tough decision." The Briton and Germanian looked at each other, surprised that Vitus actually had the mettle to address the controversial decision made.
Vitus continued, "Apologies that such a method was enforced by our father, we are well aware that your people starve, but know that you shall be rewarded come spring. Keep faith that we shall return to you a greater fortune that you have given us."
Ricburgis smiled, "Your words bring much needed relief, son of Lucius. I only hope that no bad blood continues between Rome and the Cherusci."
Ermanar rolled his eyes, You Germanic worm; I pray that winter kills you all!
"Keep heart that we may even feed you sooner," Vitus replied, "We are only about two weeks away from Samarobriva, so once we capture the Britons' supplies of food, we shall—"
"Two weeks?!" Ermanar blurted out of turn. All eyes fell upon him, as he meekly apologized, "Forgive me. I speak with surprise."
"Actually, Ermanar," Ricburgis said slowly, his eyes narrowed in a scheming way, "You were prepared to leave so that you may venture on to the rest of your people, correct?"
The annoyed Briton forced a smile, "That is correct. But I do recall the promises of maps, if you deliver to me, I shall recall your words for my people."
The chieftain nodded and searched around a messy clutter in his hut and pulled out a few large maps and handed them to Ermanar, "Now do to tell your leader about us," he whispered to the Briton.
Ermanar opened the maps and to his delight, they heavily detailed the outline of the Cherusci lands, all the way to Samarobriva and the Northern Edge of the mainland. A large grin grew on his face, he failed to place the Cherusci in his pockets, but he completed the ulterior objective from his king.
"Gratitude for your hospitality, Ricburgis," he bowed to the Chieftain. He then bowed to the Romans, "Excuse me, Romans, but I must take swift leave back to the scattered remnants of my people."
Before the brothers could say a word, Ermanar swiftly made his way for the exit. "Hold a minute," Cassius said with a chuckle as he grabbed the Brittonic Captain's arm, right at the moment he was out the door. "You leave now? But I would see us catch up on tales of our people." The bodyguard turned to Proculus, "Proculus, with your permission, I would break words with my kinsman outside, would you allow me to do so?"
Proculus smiled, "Of course, you can leave my side, this shall only take a moment."
Ermanar felt his heart skip a beat as drops of sweat fell down his forehead. Was this really happening? Cassius turned a warm smile to his kinsman, in which Ermanar, in front of the eyes of the others, forced a smile and walked out of the tent with Cassius behind him.
"If I may pose a question," the chieftain said to Vitus, "Why come before me to voice your thoughts."
"Because it troubles my soul to leave you in misery knowing that you may have failed your people," Vitus told him honestly.
The chieftain chuckled to himself and shook his head, "Young Roman…I can tell you speak with honesty, it humbles me that you reveal such concern for my people."
"Know that your life shall improve, you must only endure for a winter. We shall return to aid you."
Just then, Oroles stuck his head into the hut and told the brothers, "The tribute is gathered, we are prepared to return to encampment."
"Understood, Oroles. Saddle your horses, we return at once." Proculus commanded.
"Before you leave," Ricburgis hesitantly said. A crusty smile shined on his grizzled face in the dark hut, "Gratitude for your words, know that they have been warmly received."
Vitus smiled back and extended his hand forth. The chieftain studied the foreign hand of his enemy, the hand that possibly could have robbed his sons' lives in battle. But, after having this boy come back to him and personally extend warm sentiments towards him, he determined this one peculiar Roman was worthy of a handshake of equals and shook it.
Outside the hut, Biua sat underneath a tree, peering at a massive cart filled with food, weapons, and skins, along with livestock tied to the cart and pouches of wine draping over their backs, and Roman soldiers guarding it with stone faces as the poor Cherusci looked on, heartbroken at the loss of their precious supplies that were tied to their very survival.
Biua remained sitting, nearly aloof to her surroundings, all she could think about was her father abandoning his own people like a hairless coward. She remembered the sobs of sadness she heard from her people as she took their food and wine from them, as Roman soldiers glared at her from afar, making sure that you she did not "forget" to leave anything.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two Roman brothers exiting, with the youngest having a big smile on his face. Her stomach churned at the sight of them, but a thought shot in her head. Why is he coming out of father's hut? And why is he smiling as such? She observed them longer and saw them heading over to Ermanar and Cassius. For the time when they were outside, she observed both men sharing a laugh and a lengthy conversation; she even noticed that Ermanar was showing maps to Cassius.
"Cassius," Proculus called out as the brothers approached them, "We are prepared to leave this village. To what were you two speaking about?"
"I inquired the knowledge of the rest of his Gallic group," Cassius said. "He showed me on these maps where his people are located."
Proculus smiled, "Ermanar, you must be glad to find another kinsman here?"
The Briton smiled, "Indeed, I never imagined he would be here." He then forced a laugh, "I honestly desire him to return with me, but, he has his duty with you."
"Do not hold such concerns," Cassius smiled as he placed a hand on Ermanar's shoulder, "Hopefully we shall cross paths once more."
An idea popped in Ermanar's head. "Before you leave," he asked the brothers, "Have you collected your weapons that were taken?"
"We have,"
"Excellent. Well if you excuse me, I must see the chieftain again, I forgot to tell him something…but before I go…" Ermanar extended his hand to Proculus, in which he shook the hand. Vitus extended his hand, but instead of shaking it, Ermanar grabbed Vitus in a light hug and picked him up the ground and slowly swung him in the air back-and-forth.
"For what reason did you do that?" Vitus asked once his feet touched the ground.
"Well…do not take offense, I always wanted to do that to some so small."
Proculus snickered, Vitus angrily blushed. "Do not do that again," Vitus serious warned.
The Briton put both his hands behind his back, "Apologies, I also did it because you took good care of my kin," he lied to them.
Biua watched from afar in disgust. The Briton was acting too friendly with the Romans, she wondered if he knew he could reveal his true identity by mistake this way. But before she could stomach any more, Ermanar walked back to her father's hut and waved goodbye to the Romans. The brothers quickly moved to their stallions and mounted them with pride and organized their soldiers.
"Maniple!" Proculus bellowed to the men as he placed his helmet on. "Forward! March!"
The Roman horns blew loudly amongst the formation, snapping all soldiers to march in place. The brothers led their soldiers at the front, and quickly, the Roman soldiers began to trickle out of the Cherusci village until they were completely out of sight from the gate.
Biua stood to her feet and looked on at her desolate village, no animals except for the stable of horses remained, women and children stood in a trance, wondering if this was reality or a dream, she herself stood reflecting the entire set of events, judging herself for not being more vocal in the defense against the Romans. They had the manpower to take on a hundred Roman soldiers; she could have killed them all before they entered. She could—
A terrible yell pierced the absolute silence of the village. Biua snapped her head to the source of the yell, to her horror; it came from her father's hut. Ermanar rushed out of the hut and shouted into the air, "Help! Help come quick! Murder! Murder! Chieftain Ricburgis has been murdered!"
A crowd quickly gathered around the hut, but none moved faster than Biua, who dashed down to the hut so fast that witnesses believed she had wings on her feet. The Briton saw her coming and shouted, "Biua come quick! Your father has been murdered!"
No! NO! It cannot be! She burst through the hut door and there she saw him. He was crumpled stomach-up on top his personal table, one eye was wide open and fixated on the ceiling while his other eye was halfway closed, the room smelled more awful than usual, his bowels had loosened. The origins of the fatal wound was obvious to all that saw, a medium-sized dagger was still jammed in his jugular, judging from the angle, one could say that he bled out under 30 seconds.
Biua screamed louder than any person could believe was humanely possible. Tears flowed out of the corners of her eyes, and she ran to her father and cradled his body tight for several minutes. Her father was the only family she had left, and now, she was forever alone and now in charge of her dying people.
Several warriors entered the hut, and upon seeing the body, they bowed their heads in shame for allowing this vicious murder to take place. Ermanar bowed his head and shook his head, "I found him as such, but the culprit I did not see," he told the daughter.
Biua suddenly stopped crying. She rose from the corpse and without turning around, hissed, "I saw you enter the hut, did you kill my father?"
The Cherusci slowly turned to him and gave him menacing leers, as they slowly fondled the handles of their swords. Ermanar swallowed hard and stammered, "No! No-No-No, I had no hand in this. Before I waited for my men to return from seeking your father's gift, I had a question for him. When I entered, I saw him robbed of life! I am innocent in his murder!"
Biua leaped towards him and forcibly grabbed his palms and examined them. They were clean. "Do you not see?" he said to her, "No blood! I had no hand in your father's demise!"
"Then what happened?!" She screamed to everyone in the hut. "Spread out and find the murderer! I want him now!"
Before the Cherusci warriors ran out, Ermanar called attention to a crucial piece of evidence, "Hold a moment. The assassin's dagger is still in his throat!"
Biua went over to her father's body and examined the dagger closely. She gasped after her inspection. She pulled it out gently and showed it to everyone.
"That…dagger," a Cherusci stated, "That is not Germanic craft…"
"No…I recognize this craft, this pattern, this steel," she said. "This…This is a Roman dagger!"
"It is," Ermanar chimed in, "Was…Was that not the dagger that Vitus of the Julii had?"
"Yes…it is," she said, as she began to access her memory. At the Meeting Hall, when she confiscated their weapons, she remembers pulling this dagger from Vitus behind his back. It was one and the same. She shook her head wildly. The Roman boy killed her father? No, it wasn't possible…but wait…she remember seeing him and his brother exiting the hut…and he was smiling! The pieces were beginning to connect. And the brothers…they left the camp rather quickly as well! They…They did kill her father! They murder her father!"
"THAT FUCKING ROMAN BOY!" she erupted with the intensity of a volcano. "He and his fucking brother come to our lands, steal our food, and kill my father?!" She ran out of the hut fuming with the wrath of a goddess and addressed her grieving people who heard the news, "The Romans have invaded our lands, stolen our property, and murdered my father! Your chieftain! They are dogs without honor who are plagued with madness! We shall not stand for this!" She turned to her warriors, "As Chieftain of the Cherusci, I command every man to take up the axe and sword and follow me to attack the Romans!"
Her warriors cheered with angered vengeance and quickly moved throughout the village to grab their remaining weapons. They were ready for war against the cowards who killed their chieftain. But only one man in the entire village had the sense to address Biua about this issue.
"Biua!" Ermanar chased after her, "Cease this madness! You cannot attack the Romans witho—"
"Stand aside, Briton! I will avenge my father!"
"I understand, but this not the correct way!
"I give no shits to the 'correct way', they killed my father, and I will kill those bastard boys!"
"Listen to fucking reason, woman! This will end in your demise!"
"Fuck off!"
Ermanar jumped in front of Biua and drew his sword and pressed the tip to her throat. The new Cherusci chieftain stopped in her tracks. "Not another step, you must fall to reason!" he told her.
"Get that sword away from me before I kill you!" she warned. For the first time since meeting her, he was legitimately terrified of this woman. Her glare did not lie; she would kill him without hesitation.
He put his sword down while saying, "Attacking about 100 men is utterly foolish!"
"Of course not! We shall crush them, we can still catch up to them!"
"Allow me to conclude. Attacking 100 men is utterly foolish, if you had the option of killing a thousand!"
Biua breathed softer and cocked her eyebrow, "Cease fucking riddles, what do you mean?"
"My king, Lugotorix, can aid you in your justified vengeance against the low criminals of Rome! Take the option your father refused and align yourself with us! Call off this attack and take your people north with the Britons! And instead of killing 100 hundred Romans today, we shall slaughter a thousand in the near future! Stay your hand now, and reap your reward later!"
Biua thought it over considerably; she paced from side-to-side, grunting loudly, juggling immediate vengeance and the safety of her own people. She desired the Julius brothers' heads on a stake immensely, but then again, their father most likely ordered them to kill her father, he had to die too. All the Romans had to die!
"Alright, I accept. The Cherusci are now allied with the Britons! You take us north and we shall aid you! But…I want the brothers' heads, especially the young one."
Ermanar smiled, "Of course, you shall have your vengeance."
Biua nodded, then stormed off to call off the attack and to form a mass exodus of her people. With no food remaining and with promised food near Samarobriva, it would be foolish to remain in this cursed land. But first, burial rites had to be given to their dead chieftain.
As the Cherusci gathered around to perform burial rites on Ricburgis; Ermanar's men returned from viewing Ricburgis' "surprise" that could aid them against Rome. The Brittonic men found their Captain sitting under a large tree, observing the Cherusci burial customs.
"Captain, what is all of this?" one Briton asked, "Has someone perished?"
Ermanar cupped his face in his hand and sighed. "Men, it is a long, long story…"
The Britons gathered round their captain and listened to everything that happened once they had departed. At the end of the story, the men were already exhausted.
"By the gods!" a Briton explained, "I cannot believe the chieftain is dead…"
"I cannot believe the Romans actually killed him!" another one said.
"Captain, I am glad that you were able to secure an alliance with the Cherusci, it shall make our battle easier," a third Briton said.
"Especially after how the chieftain refused the first time, the gods were fortunate that the Romans have given the cause for war," another one joked.
Ermanar smiled, "Oh yes, the gods are fortunate, in fact, they shower their fortune to the individual who is willing to take the risk."
All his men stared at him. "What is the meaning behind such a riddle?" a Briton said.
Ermanar continued to smirk like a mischievous boy, "I just sped the process of the gods to favor us," he shrugged conceitedly, "that is all I done."
One Briton sharply jerked his head back at the sudden revelation behind Ermanar's words. "No, you did not…"
The mischievous smile of Ermanar turned into a wicked one. "Yes, I did."
Another Briton spoke up, "You…it was your hand that robbed Ricburgis of life? And you framed the Romans for it?"
"Yes, I did it all."
The Britons looked at each over with blank faces, before bursting out into a low volume laugh. "How did you accomplish this? You said it was a Roman dagger that killed the chieftain."
"It was. Listen with care, I recalled that the Cherusci bitch took the weapons of the Romans and she spent focused on the Roman boy's dagger. Later on, I saw that they were the last ones to leave his hut, so I schemed up this plan at that precise moment. To get the boy's dagger was the hard part, but I managed it with swift hands. I hugged the Roman and lifted him off his feet, so he could not feel me remove his blade that he kept behind his back. And once I released him, I hid the dagger in my sleeve. And once the Romans left the village, I scurried into the hut of the chieftain who was completely alone, and before he could react, I sunk the dagger in his throat and watched him die. The rest…was all too easy!"
"Incredible!" a Briton said in awe.
"You were able to pull this off?"
The Captain smiled proudly, "Yes I did. The old bastard was afraid of war, while his daughter wasn't. What better pretense for war than personal vengeance? Besides, the fucking withered bastard personally threatened me, as if I would stand for such idle threats."
One Briton laughed, "The king shall be most elated! What with you bringing maps and the Cherusci alliance, and Ricburgis for rewarding us in the afterlife!"
"Wait, what was the 'surprise' that Ricburgis offered?" Ermanar asked.
The Brittonic squad smiled as a whole, "You were correct, Captain. Siege weapons. Roman catapults, six of them! All completely restored to working condition! The Cherusci took us into the woods, and there we saw them, covered with large tarp to hide from apparent brigands! They are now ours!"
Ermanar, completely enraptured in these sharp successes, let out a high-pitched chuckle, "Praise to the Gods for making this too easy! With this, we shall finally take Samarobriva!" He looked behind himself at the Cherusci, "And those fucking Germanians will aid us against Lucius' legion. The Age of the Britons is approaching, and we will show the mainland our wrath!"
Yep, a lot of things have happened in this chapter. You have no idea how happy I am that this chapter is over. In the meanwhile, school is getting more serious, so I don't know how soon or long the next chapter will be up.
Also to -Horned King II, remember what I said and stay strong buddy!
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