Marius' Mules VI: Caesar's Vow (34 page)

Fronto sighed and stepped forward, unsheathing his blade and dropping it onto Masgava’s cloak with the others. He gestured to the men behind him to do so. ‘Pontius and Quietus? You two stay out here with the weapons.’

‘We were led to believe there were twenty of you?’ the druid enquired, performing a second quick headcount and eyeing the seventeen visitors with interest.

Fronto paused as he approached. ‘Our three Remi riders are bringing the horses and gear the long way round. They’ll wait for us at the main road. You are surprisingly well-informed?’

‘You travel within the Goddess’ lair. She sees all.’

‘Comforting.’

The druid gave a smile that did nothing to ease Fronto’s tension and ushered the Roman party inside. As they passed into the sacred nemeton, Masgava and Palmatus took a surreptitious opportunity to wink at Fronto and indicate the location of their hidden knives.

The Divonanto grove consisted of three rings of trees regularly spaced and offset so as to almost create a barrier that one had to pass through at an angle. Consequently, the centre of the grove was not visible until the three rings had been negotiated. As far as Fronto was concerned, it was a terrible waste of what must be an astounding view, but with a shrug he followed the druids through the trees into the centre.

Within, a circular area consisted of well-tended turf and a ring of small jagged standing stones. At the centre was a wide, flat slab of blue-grey rock, four felled trunks surrounding it, forming benches. A veritable banquet lay on the slab, including platters of fruit and meat, bread and cheese, and jugs of what looked to be water.

Two druids sat at the slab opposite and raised their hands in welcome. Fronto approached the feast cautiously and sat on one of the logs, as far away from the druids as he could. As the others took their seats, his eyes strayed across the table, surveying the food. He also saw, with no surprise, a purple stain on the stone beneath.

‘A new use for your stone?’

The druids frowned in incomprehension.

‘I note the stains. Telling ones, those are. Fruit’s not the only thing that gets laid open on this stone, eh?’

The man who had escorted them through the gate and had first spoken to them arched an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

‘Many sacrifices on this stone. Goats, sheep, bulls, chickens and more.’ He laughed. ‘And fruit.’

‘I’m sure.’

The silence that fell was cold and uncomfortable, and Masgava, in his usual easy manner, broke the spell by reaching out and laying a slice of pink meat on the white bread, stuffing it into his mouth with a happy sigh.

The druids nodded approvingly at him, and then one turned to Fronto. ‘You hunt Ambiorix of the Eburones.’

Fronto nodded. ‘I am a little uncertain how the druids stand on this matter. Traditionally, none of your sect has spoken civilly to a Roman and I am having a great deal of difficulty in believing that you mean us anything less than harm. Tell me why you would aid us.’

There were shared glances between the four robed men, and finally one of the pair who had already been seated at the table leaned forward, pouring himself a cup of crystal clear water and cleared his throat.

‘Do not be mistaken, commander. We are no friend of yours. It simply suits our purpose to supply you with what you need to accomplish your goals at this particular time. When your task is complete, we will have no further business with you.’

The druid next to him nodded. ‘It is a troublesome matter for us and has created divisions in our society. Some would happily cast their blessings upon Ambiorix for what he has done and what he continues to attempt. I have to say that even I toasted his success when he destroyed your legion in the winter.’

Fronto’s eyes darkened dangerously, and the legionaries around stopped reaching for the food, suddenly on their guard. Masgava shrugged and stuffed a plum into his mouth.

‘Let us not fall to argument,’ the first druid said, soothingly. ‘This nemeton is home to seven shepherds of the people. Three disagree with our stand and have left in support of Ambiorix and the enemies of Rome. We four remain as we have no interest in perpetuating the Eburone king’s campaign of resistance.’

‘You still give us no reason. Why this divide?’

‘It is a matter of deciding where the best path lies for our people. Those of us you call ‘druids’ are not an army, but a caste of wise men, each with our own free will. And as wise men, we each believe we hold more wisdom than others. Perhaps
true
wisdom would be trying to knit all possibilities into one garment.’

‘So some of you think Ambiorix is bad for Gaul? I tend to agree. Alright… for now let us assume that you are hiding nothing and that we can trust you, although the very idea makes me twitch. Have you any helpful information for us?’

The fourth druid, who so far had not spoken, cleared his throat. He was an old man - older than the rest, anyway - and his voice was reedy and quiet. ‘Ambiorix has only a small following of his own, but enjoys the favour of kings and councils. He is welcome anywhere from the sea to the mountains, except in Condrusi lands.’

‘That’s not particularly helpful.’

‘Where he is now is of no use to you. By the time you get there, he will be gone. I offer you the greater solution: where he will be.’

Fronto narrowed his eyes. ‘Now you’re talking. Go on.’

‘Ambiorix has finished treating with all the eastern tribes and gained their favour. The Treveri are already making war on your general, and the Nervii are all-but destroyed, yet he has hopes to build an army from the rest before your forces reach them. He will not look to us, as the Condrusi have consistently refused to deal with him. So only one path remains to him: to return home. He still needs the Eburones, as they are the centre position of his tribal alliance. And the Eburones that still thrive are loyal to his opposite number, King Cativolcus. To complete his army, he must wrest the land from his brother king. Find Cativolcus, and in time Ambiorix will find you.’

Fronto nodded. ‘As much as it irks me that I’ll be aiding druids towards their goals, thank you for this. Needless to say, if we make our way to Cativolcus’ court and find that we have been sold out and that the entire Eburone nation is waiting for us with sharpened blades, I will find a way to come back here and nail you to your sacred trees, even if it is my larva - my vengeful spirit - that has to do it. I trust we have an understanding?’

The druids simply smiled indulgently, as though they fully expected and accepted his threat.

‘I have one further matter to discuss.’

He picked up an apple from the table, inspected it as though expecting it to be rotten, rubbed it on his tunic, bit and chewed for a long moment.

‘Where did the Arverni go?’

His companions turned frowns upon him, and Fronto ignored them, watching the faces of the four druids. Just as he expected, two of them immediately displayed expressions of guilty surprise before plastering innocence across the top. The other two were instantly guarded.

‘There are no Arverni in the north.’

‘Now you and I both know that for the lie it is. How do you expect me to trust your information on Ambiorix when you lie so plainly about your visitors?’

The man who had first accompanied them, and who Fronto had begun to think of as the headman, leaned forward and steepled his fingers.

‘The Arverni are no concern of yours. They are about on the business of our brothers from the south, and not in connection with your hunt for Ambiorix.’

Fronto narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Bear in mind that I am an eminently practical man. Even my undead spirit will be able to handle a hammer and nails. Keep uppermost in your mind an image of the four of you hanging from your trees while your precious sacred stone is stood upright and carved into a statue of Nemesis. I do not like to be lied to or crossed.’ With a grunt, he dropped the part-chewed apple back to the platter and rose. ‘I think we’re done here.’

Masgava gave him a quick glance and grabbed a handful of meat and bread before rising with the others. Samognatos looked distinctly uncomfortable. For the first time his odd smile had slid to an almost straight line.

The druids rose together and bowed their heads, the ‘leader’ speaking for them once more. ‘I cannot say I am surprised at your attitude, and if our own circumstances were not so troubled, we would be a great deal happier to watch you from the far side of a battlefield, but the fact remains that we both desire Ambiorix’s swift death, and so we will ask great Arduenna to shelter, protect and guide you within her demesne until your task is complete.’

Fronto nodded his head in a curt acknowledgement.

‘I pray your information leads to a swift resolution, and that we never meet again.’

Turning, he strode from the laden stone, back between the trees and towards the gate in the fence without waiting to be escorted by the druids. His men marched along behind purposefully, Masgava still stuffing meat and bread into his face as though destined to starve. A chill breeze rose and ruffled the trees, sending a shiver up everyone’s spine as they exited the nemeton. Spring was here now, with flowers bursting into colourful life and the trees budding green, but the air still held a morning chill. At least, Fronto chose to believe it was a purely natural, seasonal thing, and nothing to do with the sacred site of the druids.

Outside, the Roman party paused to collect their weapons and pass on the information to the two soldiers waiting by the pile, after which Masgava slung his cloak over his shoulders and shivered into the cold material.

‘Alright, Samognatos.’ Fronto sighed. ‘Lead us down to the main road. The other three should be there now with the horses.’

The small force traipsed down the grassy slope without looking back at the nemeton they had left and when they reached what appeared to be a regularly-used path, Fronto cleared his throat. ‘Palmatus? Are they watching us?’

The former legionary turned his head slightly to look out of the corner of his eye. ‘No sign. They must have gone back inside. They’ll be out of earshot anyway.’

Fronto nodded. ‘What did you pick up there?’

‘That they want Ambiorix dead. That they have some secret business with the Arverni that they won’t share, and they don’t like us any more than we like them.’

Fronto nodded. ‘More than that. They assume that we want Ambiorix dead and that is what joins our goal to theirs. What they don’t know is that I
don’t
want him dead. I want that bastard alive to answer a few questions. I get the impression that the druids wouldn’t like that one bit, and noted that they expected a ‘swift death’. And they carefully told us that the Arverni were on their business, and not connected with our
hunt
for Ambiorix. They did not say they weren’t connected with Ambiorix, and that leads me to suspect that they are. The druids are trying to use us to put Ambiorix down - or at least some of them are. And I believe that these are the same druids who are allied with the Arverni and therefore that big warrior back in Bibracte who also had a low opinion of our quarry. We’re being played, but we haven’t much choice at this point but to go along with it. No one is to put a blade through Ambiorix’s neck before I’ve had a chance to talk with him. Got that?’

The men nodded their agreement, a number of them with hard expressions. The party strode on in silence towards the wide defile that rose east from the river and along which the road deep into the forest of Arduenna ran from Divonanto. For more than a quarter of an hour they descended until they saw the main road tracking through the trees ahead.

The Remi seemed to have located the junction successfully as the party could hear the many horses whickering and snorting nearby. With a sense of relief, they strode out onto the road, and it took only a matter of heartbeats for Fronto to realise that something was wrong. The atmosphere was charged with a nervous energy. The two Remi standing among the horses wore unpleasant expressions, Magurix’s big, muscular, handsome features darkened by a worried frown, and Brannogenos’ dark, bearded face scowling as he fiddled with one of the multitudinous sigils hanging from his person.

Two
!

‘What happened?’ Fronto cast his glance back and forth, looking for the third Remi, but only two men were present. He was trying desperately to remember the other man’s name. He was an older man. A grey-bearded warrior. Seemed to be sensible. Gaul- something.

The dark, strange Brannogenos gestured back along the track. ‘Galatos has gone. No sign of him.’

‘He was with us this morning before we left,’ Fronto said, suspiciously.

‘Aye. Magurix went to rope the horses, while I went to settle up with the innkeeper. Galatos stayed in the hayloft, packing away the last of the gear, and when we got back, there was no sign of him or his kit. Vanished. No blood or sign of a scuffle, either.’

Palmatus scratched his chin. ‘You think he was spying on us?’

Fronto shrugged. ‘Could be. If so, whoever he’s passed his information on to only knows that we’re heading for the lands of the Segni, from what the ordo of elders told us. They don’t know that we’re heading for Cativolcus now. In a way, I’m hoping he was a spy. It could be very useful if he’s given inaccurate information to whoever he works for.’ He sighed. ‘There is, of course, another explanation. We know the Arverni have been here. What if they still are and Galatos bumped into them somehow? Unless we find him or his body we’ll not know.’

‘Do we go back to the town and see what we can find?’ Masgava muttered.

‘No. We’re unlikely to discover anything of use and it’ll cost us valuable time. We need to get deep into the forest and look for Cativolcus.’

One of the legionaries was making warding signs against evil and muttering something. Fronto glanced irritably at him. ‘What are you babbling about, Aurelius?’

‘Arduenna’s bats, sir. That’s what got him. The bats.’

Fronto rolled his eyes as Aurelius shuddered, reaching up and rubbing his head. ‘A bat cannot kill a man, Aurelius. Don’t let your fears carry you away with them. Come on. Mount up. We have a long way to go and time gets ever tighter.’