hunters, or sentries of the Cherusci tribe are likely to find us.”
Hunter nodded and began to hike up the slope, eastward away from the Weser,
pushing through thick branches. Jane and Gene followed in single file over the
rocky ground. Steve deliberately took up the rear. After all, he had to look
like their slave.
“Hey, Gene,” Steve said, as they continued up the uneven slope. “Is all the
country here this rough?”
“Most of it. This province goes east to the Elbe River and west to the Rhine.
We’re in the middle of it here. It’s very mountainous, and many of the valleys
are swamps. It includes part of modem Westphalia.”
Up ahead, Hunter stopped at a small, level clearing. The three humans caught
up to him. Steve could not see or hear any reason for them to have halted
already.
“Nine humans are nearby,” Hunter said quietly. “They are moving quietly,
without speaking, ahead to our right. From the sound of their movements
through the brush, I believe that they are still unaware of our presence.
However, this is the contact we want.”
‘We don’t want to be mistaken for deer and shot,” said Steve. “Should we start
talking loudly or something?”
“We shall start using Latin,” said Hunter, switching to that language, “to
support the idea that we have just crossed over from Gaul. Stay close and keep
talking.” He started walking again.
“Do you see anything yet?” Jane asked, trying out her own Latin.
“Specto,” said Hunter. “I am looking. So far, I can only hear them. They are
still at a distance that is beyond human hearing, but they are drawing
closer.”
The forest was dense, with thick underbrush and many fallen logs blocking
their way. In the rare patches of direct sunlight, the air was warm, but most
of the ground was shaded by the canopy of trees. Steve’s cloak kept snagging
on branches until he got used to keeping it pulled tightly against his body.
In the lead, Hunter, because of his height, found the going slow as he worked
his way through the tree branches. Every so often, Gene leaned over and freed
Jane’s cloak from a snag.
“Veni, vidi, vici,” muttered Steve. “I’m a slave from foreign parts. It’s
understandable if my Latin is bad, right?”
“Yes, it is understandable,” said Hunter, pushing through some thick pine
branches and holding them back for the others. “But we should not be overheard
speaking English unless we simply cannot communicate our point to each other
without it. Do continue talking, however.”
“Keep talking,” Steve said cheerfully, in Latin. “Talk so they know we’re
human and not tonight’s dinner. What shall we talk about?”
“Gene,” said Jane. “Exactly who are these Germans, anyway? Who’s about to find
us?”
“They’re barbarian warriors,” said Gene. “Semipastoral nomads, technically.
Right now, they aren’t really very different from the Gauls across the Rhine,
but they will be.”
“Hunter, are they any closer?” Jane asked. “You’ll hear them before we will.”
“I think they have heard us,” said Hunter. “The pattern of their footsteps is
changing. They have begun to spread out some as they approach us.”
“Gaul on one side of the Rhine and Germany over here,” said Steve. “France as
opposed to Germany. That’s centuries in the future, though.” He stepped over a
thick, exposed tree root. “Right?”
“Yes and no,” said Gene. “Their divergent history has already begun. A
generation ago, Julius Caesar established the Rhine River as the border
between Roman-held Gaul and the land of the independent German tribes across
it. In 9 B.C., the younger stepson of Caesar Augustus, a man named Drusus,
invaded the land across the Rhine and pushed the border eastward to the Elbe