The Wolves of the North by Harry Sidebottom Page A

assigned awagon with Castricius, Biomasos and Hordeonius and their two slaves. When not in motion, the wagons were comfortable; snug, yet agreeably roomy.
    Climbing down, Hippothous saw that the rain had blown away south. A line of trees marked the Tanais to the left. Above, the sun shone from an enormous, washed-out blue sky. They ate breakfast – rye bread, dried meat, salted fish – and set about getting ready.
    Having checked Ballista had no need of his services as
accensus
, Hippothous asked if he could exercise one of the horses. There were only twelve, and he was delighted when Ballista assigned one permanently to him. The bandit-turned-secretary tacked up, slung his weapons and kit and rode out across the Steppe. Apart from the trees marking where the river ran, a flat sea of grass spread in all directions. None of the spring grass came up to the soles of his boots. There were some low mounds in the far distance, oddly regular in shape, but nowhere else could he see anything which offered concealment. The bandits – Alani or whatever they were – who had trailed them up the Tanais were nowhere in sight.
    From a distance, the great wagons and oxen looked like a row of toys laid out by a serious-minded child. Hippothous watched Ballista riding up and down the train. The order of march was the wagon of the
gudja
, that of Ballista and his
familia
, the two containing the soldiers, that of the
haruspex
and functionaries, three wagons with the stores, the eunuchs’, and Castricius’s at the rear. Hippothous assumed Ballista’s thinking was to have the Goth at the front as the guide and the two senior officers at either end of the rest. Given his past profession, Hippothous was unsure it was wise to have half the gold in the last wagon.
    When Ballista must have considered all was vaguely in order, the whole was got under way. The cracking of whips, the complaining of beasts and the squeal of the axles travelled clearly toHippothous. With the breeze behind them, sounds could travel a long distance out on the Steppe.
    Back in the town of Tanais, Ballista had encouraged those who considered themselves fighting men to purchase local bows and quivers. Now, Hippothous took his out and began to practise shooting from horseback. To his irritation, he found it almost impossible. At a canter, let alone a gallop, the string bounced out of the notch of the arrow. On the rare occasions he managed to keep it in place long enough, the shot careered off nowhere near where he intended. It proved impossible to find some of the wayward shafts in the grass.
    After a time, Hippothous gave up. He stowed the recalcitrant weapon back in its
gorytus
, and fished in his saddle pack for a book. Other riders were about. Castricius, Hordeonius and Biomasos all galloped separately across the Steppe, exercising their mounts. Hippothous ignored them. With the morning sun on his shaven head, he unrolled the papyrus and read the
Physiognomy
of Polemon. His horse ambled along, the reins loose on its neck.
    At midday, Hippothous cantered back. They were to take lunch on the move. At the lead wagon, Hippothous found a difference of opinion between Ballista and the
gudja
.
    ‘It is asking for trouble,’ said Ballista.
    ‘We are too many for casual bandits, and it could draw the unwanted attention of others,’ the
gudja
advised.
    ‘There should always be outriders,’ responded Ballista.
    ‘This grazing is disputed between the Alani and the Heruli. Both send out raiding parties of young warriors. Scouts and the like would draw them down on us. Remember, we Urugundi know these Steppes and these tribes. You do not.’ The Gothic priest was not to be contradicted. Reluctantly, Ballista gave way.
    The second day went better. The wagon train made at least eight miles. By the third, they were getting into a routine. Althoughsome dark clouds scudded across, the weather continued fine. Hippothous rode alongside Ballista’s wagon, where the northerner’s