by M. K. Hume
At the city gates, the guardsmen waited while Drustan issued instructions to the gatekeeper through a small door that had been cut into the huge main gate to allow for easy access. Caradoc noted that Drustan stamped his feet and squawked his anger at the length of time it took the snaggle-toothed door-keeper to unbar the twin gates from the inside. As he waited, Maximus examined the vast iron hinges and the mechanisms of the portal and was impressed at their strength.
Inside the city, the streets were dark and some laneways were just as narrow as those in Durnovaria, but Maximus’s experienced eyes noted that the main thoroughfares were wide and cobbled in the Roman fashion. The streets were noticeably bare of domestic rubbish and, while the air carried smells of excrement, cooking fires, meat and cabbage, the combination was not unpleasant.
The buildings in Venta Belgarum were much like those in the public faces of Durnovaria. Shop fronts lined the main thoroughfare, where a succession of wine shops and inns, designed for travellers, were in evidence. Whores stood negligently near lit doorways, but these women were wrapped in colourful cloaks and the glint of cheap jewellery showed at their wrists, ankles and throats. Decius cautioned his men against any fraternisation with the working girls.
‘You’d be surprised at the diseases you can catch from these night kittens, boys. I suggest you find a maid or a bored wife if you need a woman, but don’t risk your balls on these lovelies.’
As the horses jostled down the main thoroughfare, a single horseman emerged from the gloom ahead of them. Drustan squealed with pleasure and relief, for he was obviously keen to rid himself of these brutal visitors.
‘Oh, Hellyn, I’m ever so glad to see you,’ Drustan trilled. ‘Has Master Gwaun allocated the accommodation for our guests?’
Hellyn was another slender boy-man, but this lad was very tall and wore a mane of reddish-brown hair with elan. Although his face was clean-shaven and cadaverous, his hair hung almost to his waist in a mass of ringlets that any woman would have envied.
‘You can lead the guard to the hall of warriors where room has been allocated for their use, Drustan. You can leave the nobles to those of us who have more experience, so run along now. I’m sure you’ll do very well with these nice young lads.’
An experienced pair of hazel eyes ran over the column of troops. Trefor felt himself blushing at Hellyn’s overt invitation, although he had loved men in his teens and was not usually offended by such things.
‘Sirs, my master has instructed me to take you to your quarters,’ Hellyn told Maximus in a warm, convivial voice. ‘Can I assume that these men are your servants? Excellent! We have already arranged for an adjoining room to be used as your strongroom.’
Hellyn’s gaze enveloped Trefor and Lorn, who both coloured under his aggressive gaze.
Meanwhile, Caradoc asked the two scouts to speak privately with him on an urgent matter. ‘Mount a four-man guard over the treasure-wagons as soon as we arrive at our accommodation. Once we’ve settled into our rooms, ensure that all our men are detailed to transfer the valuable items into the strongroom. Then a four-man guard must be mounted over the room until such time as we depart Venta Belgarum for the journey home. The guards will be on duty for six hours at a time, with no slacking in their behaviour while they carry out guard duty. There’ll be no unfortunate incidents while we’re here. Is that understood?’
Caradoc now nodded towards Hellyn to show that the party was ready for the short walk to their accommodation.
‘Follow me, good sirs. Your servants will be sharing an apartment beside yours. As we have so many guests this week, my master apologises for the fact that you must share, but we have a series of rooms for your use, including a small triclinium if you wish to entertain other guests as well as yourselves.’
Hellyn fluttered his lashes beguilingly.
‘We are so excited by your visit, Lord Maximus. We’ve never had a military man as a guest who stands so high in the protection of our isles, so we’re agog to hear what exciting tales you can tell us.’ Hellyn spoke without a trace of sarcasm, but no one was fooled.
Compared with Drustan, this gilded young man was another matter altogether. Somehow, the lad inserted himself and his horse between Caradoc and Maximus so their ride into the heart of Venta Belgarum was decidedly awkward. Both the king and the Roman became interested in the buildings on either side of the wide roadway, so Hellyn was kept busy describing the new structures raised by Gwaun during his reign, including a large public bathhouse.
‘The common people are gradually being brought around to enjoy an occasional soak in the hot waters but, unfortunately, they are accustomed only to washing their whole bodies at birth and at death – so what can one do?’
‘What indeed?’ Caradoc responded urbanely. Somehow, he managed to quell a bubble of laughter.
‘I can see their point,’ Maximus stated. ‘The weather is hot in Rome so Romans need to bathe because the heat causes so much sweat and disease. Conversely, Britannia has a very cold climate, especially in the winter months.’
Finally, atop a low rise, the small group of horsemen reached a large, flat forecourt that was surrounded by two-storeyed buildings that seemed to lean inward towards the earth, as if bowing in homage. Across the forecourt, a huge hybrid building constructed from timber and stone rose up in two storeys.
‘You are looking at Lord Gwaun’s magnificent new palace,’ Hellyn said proudly, one hand pointing out items of interest. ‘My lord designed the building himself, so he spared no expense.’
The guests had only a few moments to dismount, retrieve their saddlebags and hurry to join Hellyn on the broad stone steps that led to the palace.
The building squatted rather than soared. It boasted huge doors twice the size of the tallest man, carved in the tribal design called interlace, which provided a continuing, decorative line that defied the viewer to find the beginning or the end. Two sinuous dragons spat poison and malice out at any newcomer who wished harm to the owner of the hall.
The heavy timber seemed to soar upwards as if it was ready to take wing. Even Maximus was impressed.
‘Behold the dragon,’ the tribune said with a flourish of his hand.
‘The dragon of your legion was never so lean and hungry,’ Caradoc pointed out. ‘That’s a northern dragon if ever I’ve seen one.’
Once the doors swung outward, the next few minutes were confusing and disorienting as the small party followed a group of four soft-footed servants carrying trays of food and drink, soft towels and the commander’s saddlebags. The route taken as the honoured guests were led through the dark building was long and circuitous. Eventually, they reached a set of doors that seemed to indicate they had reached their destination.
With a flourish, Hellyn opened the door that led into a large room divided into two sections. The front part of the room possessed several comfortable stools and eating couches arranged around a low table. He showed Trefor and Lorn to a small side room, but rough as it appeared to be, the pallets on the beds were stuffed with fresh, clean wool and Trefor’s heart sang.
Back in the corridor, Hellyn unlocked a large storage area that had the virtue of being windowless. As there was only one entrance, both the tribune and the king decided that this strongroom would suffice. Maximus, sniffing, noticed a faint aroma of apples.
Hellyn saw the Roman’s flaring nostrils and apologised immediately. ‘In the past, lord, we’ve used this room for food storage, especially in winter. I’m tolerably certain that there hasn’t been an infestation of vermin in this new palace but . . . the old building! Well! I’ve never seen so many rats in my life. And when the king ordered the building to be burned, I swear there were hundreds of the little buggers . . . all scaly tails and sharp teeth!’
‘Thank you, Hellyn. I’m sure we can manage now, since you’ve been so efficient. I’ll just take the key for safe-keeping,
’ Caradoc said smoothly, trying to draw Hellyn’s attention away from the tribune who was looking very green around the mouth.
The door had no sooner closed behind the young sophisticate than Maximus was cursing vigorously. Eventually, he had to draw breath.
‘I hate rats, especially their tails and the noises their claws make when they’re running on the floor,’ he snapped. He was shivering with distaste.
Caradoc quickly sent Trefor and Lorn to organise the unloading of the treasure and its transfer to the strongroom. Several trips might be necessary because some of the men would need to carry out guard duties at various points along the route.
There was no time like the present to carry out this task, for there was little domestic activity in the palace during the hours of darkness, and few servants or guests in the passageways to be curious about what was happening.
Finally, Lorn and Decius were told to liaise with each other and arrange an effective guard roster that would protect the strongroom at all times.
‘What do we do if someone in authority objects to the presence of common warriors and legionnaires traipsing through the palace? What do we say?’ Lorn asked plaintively, his gaze switching from Caradoc to Maximus.
The truth is our best defence,’ Caradoc decided. ‘If someone of quality should ask, you are carrying an integral part of a very special dowry that must be kept under constant guard. If they wish to argue the point, send them to me.’
‘Or me!’ Maximus exclaimed and faced his legionnaire. Caradoc was pleased to see that the tribune’s face was clear of any panic or nausea.
The servants departed. Once Lorn had been entrusted with the massive key to the strongroom, the Roman tribune and the Dumnonii king returned to examine their quarters and partake of the light meal that had been left for them. Both men were suddenly ravenous with hunger.
In the main chamber, the back part of the room was divided between two luxurious beds, each more than large enough for several sleepers. The shuttered window was snugly fitted so that not even a breath of cold air could steal into the chamber.
Maximus sat on one of the couches, sniffed at the flagons of wine and began to pour the rich, ruby liquid into a goblet of real glass. Caradoc inspected an olive with suspicion and then placed it gingerly into his mouth.
‘Well! Well! Would you say that this place might be a gilded trap, friend Caradoc? I wonder what Gwaun ap Mairtin is up to, because everyone here has been very polite and friendly.’ Then he shuddered. ‘Except for Hellyn’s reference to the presence of rats.’
‘For God’s sake! Don’t let Hellyn know you’re fearful of rats or he’ll mention them in every conversation. I think I prefer the company of Drustan ap Drust.
‘I’ll pulverise the arrogant bastard if he annoys me,’ Maximus retorted. ‘As Mithras rules in the battlefield, I swear that I’ll cut out his tongue if he causes me any discomfort.’
‘Oh, you of little trust!’ Caradoc responded. ‘I agree with you. Gwaun didn’t come to greet us, we are taken to our rooms by the most difficult route possible and the whole palace seems deserted. We haven’t met a soul who could be questioned, except for the graceful young gentlemen who have been our guides since we arrived. They seem to have been chosen deliberately to confuse or embarrass us. I believe we are meant to be on edge.’
‘In which case, Gwaun has succeeded in whatever he tried to achieve. Let’s eat this excellent meal, drink some of this superb wine and sleep on the beds provided for us. Where the hell are Trefor and Lorn? They’re probably lost, which I’m sure was his intention. We’re supposed to be too overawed to stir out of our rooms until Gwaun gives us permission. Since we are such honoured guests, I intend to show my pleasure by taking a bath. I suggest we act like guests and become high-handed. As soon as the men return, I’m going to send Lorn to find the bathhouse.’
Maximus fired a grin in Caradoc’s direction. ‘Did you notice that Hellyn didn’t even bother to give us directions on how to get to the latrines?’
And, with these thoughts paramount in their minds, the two men ate and drank their fill and discovered that the food was tasty and well cooked. As they ate, a constant stream of Dumnonii and Roman warriors carried heavy box after heavy box into the confines of the strongroom and stacked them as far as possible from the door. Then, while Maximus prowled around the apartment like a caged big cat, Trefor and Lorn slipped away to reconnoitre the palace under the guise of hygiene.
Caradoc sat quietly with a glass of wine and stared at the key that Lorn had returned to him. It was attached to a large ring so that it could be worn around the wrist and contained a complex series of teeth designed to trip notches and releases in a locking mechanism. The design was obviously Roman, but Caradoc had never seen anything like it before.
Meanwhile the torches were beginning to splutter, reminding the tribune how completely he had been entrapped. He joined the Dumnonii king as they waited upon chance, or the orders of their absent host. The best news of all would be the return of their scouts with detailed information about the complexities of this palace.
CHAPTER X
A FEAST OF VULTURES
[He] who the gods love dies young.
Menander, Reliquiae Selectae
Caradoc and Maximus ambled along the narrow corridor in the direction of the main hall where they expected to find their host. Behind them, Lorn and Trefor strode out in an arrogant manner, even going so far as to provide guidance to their masters if they were in danger of taking the wrong turns. During the night, the two scouts had made the palace their own as they roamed through the building’s hidden passages in accordance with their masters’ orders.
‘I’m starving! Being really clean after a long soak always sharpens my appetite,’ Maximus exclaimed.
‘That might account for your snoring,’ Caradoc retorted.
‘I don’t snore! And if I did, I wouldn’t give a shite on a beautiful morning like this.’
‘I enjoyed my first truly Roman bath,’ the king added, while smoothing his clean hair with one strong, square hand.
‘Do you suppose we were expected to find the bathhouse for ourselves, Caradoc? Or were we meant to ask our catamite friend to give us directions to the facilities in the palace?’
‘I believe Gwaun wants us to feel on edge and even insulted. I think he wants us to be separated from our guards and unable to find essential basic facilities such as latrines, baths or water for shaving. We’re meant to be at a disadvantage.’
‘It’s a good thing that neither of us is prepared to stand on ceremony.’ Maximus replied while stroking his cheeks that Lorn had shaved to the smoothness of a baby’s flesh. Then the tribune grinned widely.
‘Gods, our host would have watched in amusement as we hunted for somewhere to take a morning piss if Trefor hadn’t found the latrines for us. Gwaun will be very disappointed at that little miscalculation. It would have served him right if we’d pissed in the corners of his passageway like puppies.’
Both men had bathed late at night when no servants were abroad to observe their secretive foray. The water wasn’t quite as hot as Maximus liked, but the pleasure of cleanliness far outweighed the tepid temperatures inside the pools.
A container of fine oil had been left on a shelf near the calidarium, so the king and the tribune helped themselves to a liberal amount. Later, with their pores wide open and cleansed, both men and their servants lay in the steaming waters like pale dolphins, occasionally swimming languidly to loosen their tight muscles.
‘You swim very well, Caradoc. I’m surprised, because very few people bother to learn how to protect themselves in open waters,’ Maximus observed. ‘I’ve always hated the thought of choking or drowning, so I was determined to learn the art of swimming as soon as I realised that most of the units in the legions travel by sea. It’s nice to know that I could survive at sea i
f the need should arise.’
‘We lived on the ocean’s edge, so we played in boats from childhood. Every child in Tintagel would have drowned during our formative years if we hadn’t learned to swim,’ Caradoc explained, while Trefor spouted a jet of water at Lorn, who couldn’t swim, from his mouth. Lorn sat on the steps and only ventured into water that was less than waist-deep.
Shaved, polished and tidied, the masters were taken to a clean and perfumed under-cover latrine outside the rear door of the palace, where several guards watched them narrowly. These superior latrines were obviously provided for the exclusive use of Gwaun and his guests, so the guards made no complaint.
When Trefor and Lorn had reconnoitred the palace on their masters’ orders, they had discovered the apartments where the other kings had been domiciled, if the sleeping guards outside each door were any indication. Maximus grunted with contempt at the lazy and undisciplined behaviour of the servants and warriors in Gwaun’s palace, an observation that might prove useful if they struck any trouble with their host in the future.
Their beds were excellent, so both men slept well and woke refreshed.
When morning came, Maximus and Caradoc dressed with care for their first meeting with King Gwaun. As King Caradoc and Magnus Maximus were discovering, they were involved in a type of bloodless war where the winners reacted with sangfroid to whatever the other group threw at them.
Over their fine woollen tunics, leather trews and polished mailed shirts, their breastplates gleamed with gold, silver and cabochon gemstones. The two men looked magnificent. Maximus wore a cloak of vivid scarlet, while Caradoc donned the check of the Dumnonii with a rich lining and a huge white fur hood made from the winter pelts of wolves. The effect of this contrasting raiment was arresting.
‘Around about now, Gwaun will be thinking of sending for us, believing that we’ve been cooling our heels and waiting for his call. He’ll be surprised,’ Caradoc stated.