by Jane Finnis
“We look forward to meeting him when he’s next in the area.” Vividus smiled at me. “Does he look like you?”
I was taken aback by such directness, even though I could guess what lay behind his question. “Yes, there’s a strong resemblance. Hardly surprising really. We’re twins.”
He nodded. “It’s just that…I hope you won’t mind if I say this, but you don’t look in the least like Albia. I’d never have guessed you were sisters.”
I stifled a sigh. It’s what everyone says. Albia is small and dark and brown-eyed, while Lucius and I are tall and fair and have green eyes like our mother. Still, as our grandmother used to say, the fact that something is blindingly obvious never stops people assuming they’re the first to notice it.
“Albia and I are half-sisters. Same father, different mothers, and we’ve each of us got our mother’s looks.” The food came, and I passed round the plate, but Vividus shook his head and helped himself to more wine instead.
I thought, if he can be direct, so can I. “Father was a centurion. You’re both ex-army too, if I’m not mistaken.”
Magnus said, “Quite correct. I’ve been retired some time, and Vividus finished his service last winter. We both made centurion too.”
Vividus raised his beaker. “And I think I’m going to like it here in the north. Let’s drink to a long and fruitful friendship between the Ostorius family and the Aurelius family.”
We drank the toast, and I returned the compliment by wishing them prosperity on their new estate.
“Thank you,” Magnus said. “We’re going to make it the best-run estate in Britannia, aren’t we, nephew?”
Vividus nodded. “A modest little goal, Aurelia, as you see.”
“Only in Britannia? Why not in the whole Empire?”
“You can mock,” Magnus said, “but we’ll do it. We need more land though, to build up a really large property, like the farms in Italia. That’s the way agriculture’s going these days, you know. Consolidate the land into large holdings. So much more efficient. I’m trying to persuade some of the small farmers in our area to sell to me, but I’m sorry to say it isn’t proving as easy as I expected.” He sighed and hesitated, as if making up his mind about something. “Aurelia, you’ve been here some time, so you’ll give me a straight answer, I hope. How do you get on with the natives in these parts? Friendly to settlers, are they?”
“They are, especially in your area. You know they’re mostly from the Parisi tribe there.”
“I’ve difficulty telling one tribe from another. A barbarian’s a barbarian, when all’s said and done. I suppose I’ll learn the differences eventually.”
“I’d advise it, yes, because they’re important to the tribesmen themselves, as well as to us. Whether they’re friendly to Rome is a case in point. The Parisi always have been, ever since before the conquest. People say it’s because their ancestors came over from Gaul, but then not all Gauls are well-disposed to Rome, even now.” I helped myself to olives. “Here in Brigantia it’s different.”
“So I’ve heard. Brigantians are all anti-Roman, aren’t they?”
“Not all. It’s not so simple.” I felt myself losing patience, not because he was ignorant but because he didn’t seem to want to lessen his ignorance by learning a few facts. When you set up home in a province, it seems to me you should make an effort to find out something about it. “Most Brigantians have accepted Roman rule, with good grace or with bad. But there have always been a few who resent us, and have to be kept in order now and then. Mostly they’re the ones that live west of here, in the Pennines.”
He frowned. “I think Brigantian influence may be spreading. We’ve had some trouble with the local people.”
“That’s bad. What sort of trouble?”
“Well first, there’s a gang of Gauls based on the coast who are plaguing everyone just now.”
“Gods,” I interrupted, “I keep on hearing about these sea-raiders. What are they, pirates of some sort?”
“Not exactly, although I suppose that’s how they started. These days they spend far more time ashore than at sea, and they’re a confounded nuisance—more than a nuisance, a danger. But it seems to be mostly the Roman landowners they’re attacking, not the Parisi, which is why I was surprised when you mentioned about Bodvocus’ man being injured. You’re sure it wasn’t just one of the usual mishaps, on the farm, or out hunting?”
“Quite sure. Corium said someone had gone for him with an axe.”
“Bodvocus has land on the Headland, as we do. I suppose we have to expect them to plague us. But they’re prepared to go miles inland to harass the smaller farms. They steal, they extort money, they occasionally rob travellers. And Bodvocus and his people don’t seem to be making any attempt to control them. In fact…” he lowered his voice. “We think they’re deliberately turning a blind eye to what the Gauls are doing, or even making use of them to harass Roman settlers.”
“That’s a serious allegation,” I said. “Especially against Bodvocus, he’s always been a good friend to Romans. I must be honest, it doesn’t seem very likely to me. He’s influential in his area, and the provincial authorities have left him with quite a lot of power among his own tribe. He’d be mad to antagonise the settlers, he’d lose everything.”
“Fair point. Perhaps it’s not Bodvocus himself. He’s quite an old man now, isn’t he? Could be some of his people acting on their own. This fellow Coriu, perhaps. They’re giving us all sorts of petty aggravations. Our boundary markers get moved, or our fences are damaged so the sheep escape, that sort of thing. You may be right, the old chief knows nothing about it. I’ve reported it to Londinium, anyway.”
“Really? Have you had any reply?”
“Not yet. But I intend to get it stopped, with or without help from the Governor.”
“By the way,” Vividus poured himself a fourth beaker of wine, or was it a fifth? “What’s your Oak Bridges Chief Councillor like? We thought we’d call in on him today, introduce ourselves to him. He’s quite a power in the land round here, isn’t he?”
“Silvanius Clarus? Ah, you should have arranged to have your midday meal with him. He’s got the best chef north of Londinium.”
Magnus smiled. “I’ll remember that. These natives never cease to amaze me.”
“Clarus is a Roman citizen,” I pointed out.
“But born here in province, I’m told. Related to Chief Bodvocus, so perhaps he can help me deal with him.” He flashed me his charming smile. “I say, could we have some more of this excellent wine?”
They stayed for another jug, and very good company they were. They were intelligent and well-travelled, and we talked about everything from snail farming to the temples of Egypt. Vividus was quick-witted and charming, and Magnus had a dry sense of humour which compensated for his somewhat grumpy manner. By the time they left, they seemed like old friends I’d known for years instead of just a few hours.
After they’d gone, I went to congratulate Secundus on the sale, and asked what he thought of Magnus.
“A tough one, that,” was all he’d say. “I’d not like to get on the wrong side of him.”
Later I wandered over to see Timaeus, but he was taking a nap, and I told Phokas and Spurius not to wake him. “He’s having a busy time, let him sleep when he can. I suppose that means there’s no change in Belinus?” I asked the apprentice.
“There is, Mistress, but it’s for the worse, I’m afraid. The master says we’ll definitely have to amputate the left leg tomorrow if things don’t improve.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You had a case of toothache this morning, I gather?”
He grinned. “We did, yes, one of the new settlers. Fancied himself a hard man, and said he didn’t need anyone to hold him steady while the master pulled the tooth out.”
“He was very brave,” Spurius put in. “He never made a sound. Mostly they yell, or at least swear a bit. But he said afterwards it was the wors
t pain he’d ever had. He gave father a gold piece, and us each a copper one. So he must have been pleased really.”
“How about Coriu? Did Timaeus set the broken arm all right?”
Phokas nodded. “It was quite a bad break, but it’ll heal properly. It took two of us to stretch his arm out straight. If you don’t do that it’ll set crooked. We splinted it, and he’ll have to keep it straight by his side for a month or so, which he wasn’t too pleased about. He’s gone home already, he said he had to get straight back to Chief Bodvocus.”
“And was he brave too?” I couldn’t help asking Spurius.
“He didn’t yell, but he swore like anything.” The boy giggled. “I’d never heard some of the words before. I expect they’re very bad.”
“Don’t let the Master catch you using them,” Phokas warned.
By late afternoon it was raining, and the bar-room was almost empty. The horse-boy Malchus rode in, soaking wet but pleased with himself, having delivered my message for Lucius safely into the hands of Petreius. I gave him a beaker of wine and a small tip, and listened to him enthuse about the fortress at Eburacum, and how wonderful a soldier’s life must be. He’d watched a batch of new recruits practising throwing their javelins, and then battering at fence-posts with sticks as part of their sword training. It sounded pretty dull to me. If I’ve got to watch soldiers training, I prefer cavalry exercises, at least there’s the occasional good laugh when somebody falls off. But Malchus had been thrilled, and I made a mental note that yet another of our lads might be off into the army soon.
We had just two overnight guests, a lead mining engineer, who had a bona fide government travel permit, and his lady companion, who didn’t, but we take private travellers too, and they were no trouble. They weren’t looking for company, being wrapped up in one another, and they retired as soon as they’d eaten.
The bar was very quiet, and I was tired, so I took the chance to have an early night.
Chapter IV
A loud hammering on my bedroom door woke me up when it was barely light.
I called, “Who is it?” But I knew the answer, and was already out of bed, sleepily reaching for my day-tunic and sandals.
“It’s Phokas. My master says please hurry if you want to talk to Belinus. He’s awake, but he’s very poorly.”
“I’m on my way.” I dressed quickly, still only half awake, and went out through the side door into our private garden. The cool dawn air roused me like a splash of cold water in my face. I broke into a run along the path to Timaeus’ house. My prayer at Apollo’s shrine was extremely short, but none the less heartfelt.
Even before I went in, I could hear shouting, and I hurried to Belinus’ room. The wounded man was not only awake, but sitting on the edge of his bed. He was dressed in nothing but heavy bandages round his left leg, which was swollen like a tree trunk from ankle to hip. His body glistened with sweat as if he’d just run a race, and he panted noisily. His eyes were too bright in his flushed face. Timaeus and Phokas were struggling to hold him still, while he fought to shake them off, shouting “Let me go! I’ve got to find Aurelia Marcella! I’m going to the mansio, so let me go!”
“Here she is now,” Timaeus said loudly, and his relief was palpable. “I told you she’d come. This is Aurelia Marcella. Aurelia, Belinus is very anxious to…”
“You’re Aurelia Marcella?” The sick man tried to get up, but his injured leg made him stumble and cry out. Timaeus and Phokas still held him fast. I was glad they did, because he looked more than half mad.
“I am. I came as soon as I could. It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“I hurt all over, especially my leg, and I can’t breathe right. But never mind that. I need to talk to your brother Lucius Aurelius. Can you send for him please? I’ve got important information for him. He wanted me to find out something. But it’s for his ears only. How quickly can you get him here?” He stared at me hard, as if he was trying to see into my mind. It was unnerving, but at least he wasn’t shouting, although his voice was strained with effort.
“I’ve already sent him a message. The doctor said yesterday that you were asking for him, and I realised the matter was urgent.”
He relaxed a little. “Thank you. When will he be here?”
“I don’t know, Belinus, I’m afraid. I don’t know where my brother is at present, so I can’t say how quickly he can get here.”
“You don’t know?” He was shouting again. “But surely you must have some idea.” With an obvious effort he lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…well, this is important. I’m one of his informers, and he’ll want to hear my report. He told me you’d be able to contact him.”
“I’ve sent him one message,” I answered, “and when we’ve had our talk I’ll send him another. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do. As you know, if you’re one of his agents, he works for the provincial Governor, and that means he gets sent all over Britannia. But if the gods are with us, he’ll be here soon. Meanwhile you can make your report to me, then if—if Lucius arrives while you’re asleep, I can pass it on to him.”
“I don’t know. Do you help him in his work?”
“Oh yes, often.” Occasionally would have been more truthful, but less reassuring.
“I suppose that’ll have to do.” He sighed and then coughed, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand. “I’ll tell you. Just you. Send these two away.”
“You can trust them, I’ll vouch for that. They’re doctors.”
“Send them away! I’m not having Lucius say I blabbed our business all over the province.”
Timaeus shook his head. “We can’t leave you without a doctor, the state you’re in. But we’ll both take an oath…”
“Go away, I tell you! Or I’m saying nothing.”
I wasn’t keen on being alone with him, but it was clear he wouldn’t say what he wanted to say otherwise, and this might be his last chance to report to anyone.
“It’ll be all right, Timaeus. Stay outside in the corridor and I can call if I need you. Now Belinus, before I send them away, will you please lie down on the bed? I’m sure it’s not good for you to be struggling to use that bad leg. I’ll sit here on this stool next to you. Then you can tell me quietly—quietly and secretly—what it is I must pass on to Lucius.”
It worked. He lay down on the bed, I took the stool. Phokas propped pillows under his head and shoulders, then he and Timaeus went out. “And no eavesdropping,” I called after them, in case they hadn’t thought of it.
As soon as they’d shut the door, Belinus began talking, quickly but quite lucidly. “There’s trouble in the wolds, over towards the coast. Not just for me, several other farmers, maybe even your sister and her husband, but they’ve got enough men to defend themselves. Which is more than I have.”
“Albia?” I looked at him sharply. I was in regular touch with Albia and Candidus, but they’d made no mention of any trouble. “Do you live near her?”
“We’re neighbours. She and Candidus have been good friends to us. Albia said you and your brother would help us, but we haven’t wanted to call in any outsiders. Only now I think we need to.”
“What sort of trouble is it?”
“Sea-raiders, thieving and making mischief. They’ve set up a camp on the Headland and they say they’re looking for gold, but all they ever do is plague the small farmers. That’s what your brother needs to know about. They’re not local lads, they’re mostly from Gaul. Their captain, don’t know what his real name is, but everyone calls him Voltacos.”
“Voltacos? He has long hair then?”
“That’s right. A big tall man with a mane of brown hair. They say he wears it long because he only has one ear, so he cuts an ear off all the people he kills.”
“Gods, that’s disgusting. Does he kill many people?”
“If they get in his way. They’d have killed me, and young Cattos, he looks after my sheep, only
they didn’t have time. While they were attacking us some travellers came riding along the highway, and that scared them off. Otherwise…” He mimed cutting off his left ear, but the effort made him cough. I picked up a beaker of watered wine from a table nearby, but he shook his head. “They’re a pest, always after money to let us alone. But it’s more than that now. Much more, and we need Lucius to…” He broke off suddenly as a violent spasm of coughing seized him. He put his hands over his mouth, and phlegm oozed between his fingers. With horror I saw it was tinged red. I took a cloth from the table and held it to his mouth. He accepted it gratefully, but was still coughing too much to speak.
I said, “I’ll get the doctor. He’ll give you something to ease your chest. Then we’ll talk again.”
“No!” He seized my arm, and his grip was surprisingly strong. “Don’t go. I must tell you this now, it may be my only chance.”
“Timaeus!” I called. He was halfway through the door already. “He’s coughing up blood.”
“Phokas, fetch the strong cough syrup, the one with poppy seed in it.” He took a clean cloth, dipped it in water, and gently wiped Belinus’ face. His touch in itself was comforting, and the coughing fit subsided a little. “I was afraid of that. He has three broken ribs. They must have done damage inside him, and his blood is getting mixed with the phlegm somehow.”
The apprentice handed him a small beaker of thick dark-gold liquid which smelt of garlic, and Timaeus held it to Belinus’ mouth. “Drink this now, Belinus, and then rest for a little. Aurelia will wait till you can talk again, won’t you, Aurelia?”
“Of course I will. This is important information. Take your time.”
“But I haven’t got any time.” The words were no more than a soft moan. He drank the syrup, and the coughing became less continuous, but it still racked his body from time to time. As he held the cloth to his lips again, more red stains appeared on it.