Cursed.

Only a single word, but enough to describe the situation in full.

He and none of the legionaries around him seemed to have the gods on their side.

The barbarians stood against them.

The foederati stood against them.

The weather, the forests, this whole cursed country had turned on them.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if even wildlife started to oppose them.

Three days had passed since Arminus’ betrayal. Three days during which the Legio XVIII had attempted to retreat south while under constant attack. In pouring rain, through rough terrain, in dense forests that left no room for effective formation.

At first they had five cohorts despite the cowardly ambush. Five cohorts united in the knowledge that Varus would lead them to victory in the end. But they never heard a word from him or the other legates. Their strength was dwindling. From cohorts, to maniples, to centuriae.

The young tribune of the XVII, Galerius Sempronius Secundus now found himself commanding the sad remnants of the legion. Centurio Marcus Caelius had fallen a few hours ago, leaving only the wholly inexperienced Galerius as officer.

He had hated his deployment to this godforsaken province. Despite the border forts offering some opportunities for entertainment. The move northwards had promised honour and glory. Nothing of the sort had come to pass. And now he even got news of his scouts encountering resistance south of his position and retreating. Reports told of women standing against them.

Women! Barely a double centuria under his command and he was stuck with cowards running from a handful of barbarian sluts...

Dawn was upon him. It didn’t make much difference in these dark woods. Galerius was alone. His unit had been routed for good the evening before. But that might offer him an opportunity to get out of this alive. A centuria was a target, a single man of no consequence.

The rain had finally stopped. Through the canopy, he could glimpse a blue sky. Maybe his fate was turning at last. For hours, he struggled through the rough terrain, lost in dark thoughts.

A sound startled him, and he looked around. Not far from him, a barbarian stood, armed with a shield and spear, half hidden in the shadows. No. A female barbarian, he realised. Improving his chances. She was big for a woman and had the advantage of the spear’s reach against his gladius and scutum. But only a woman, after all.

But she did not attack him. For a long second, she was only looking at him, a undiscernible look in her storm-grey eyes. Eyes that seemed so oddly familiar. Finally, she raised her voice and screamed a few words in the rough language of the Germans. Two of which he thought he recognised. Gunderona and Germira. Women’s names.

And indeed, two more warrioresses stepped out from between the trees shortly after. The first one was blonde; these two had rust-red hair. Despite the blue warpaint obscuring their facial features, he saw it at once: sisters. The blonde gave frantic orders, and they started surrounding him.

He was dumb for not attacking when he had the chance. He did now. But the women drew back. Galarius had to be careful and keep his back to the trees so he did not open himself up to attack. He was tired and soaked through. The three were not. For a while, he tried to fight, but they evaded him. Apparently too cowardly to face him in an honourable fight.

It was only a matter of time for him to get too tired to resist. His story would end here, hounded like an animal, by the hand of three women. His only consolation was the fact that no one in Rome would ever know of his shame.

But there was a final option. His name would be linked to the military disaster. He would have to face accusations. But he would be alive. And if he was alive, he could spin the story in his favour. He threw away the shield and spread out his arms. But he kept the gladius in a firm grip.

“Tribune,” he said, indicating himself. “Ransom. Sestercius.” There was little hope the women knew Latin, but these three words would be enough. Surprised by this sudden turn of events, they discussed among each other. At last, the blonde gave him a crooked grin and nodded.