by Nhys Glover
‘A Catuvellauni, sir. He said he was given it to deliver to you.’
‘Interrogate the man, find out what he knows. I doubt they would have sent one of their own to deliver the message, but the Celt might have more to tell us of these outlaws.’
The Praetorian jerked a nod and disappeared into the quiet taproom. It was still too early for many customers to be about, for all the commotion that had attracted its fair share of curious bystanders.
‘If you are a man of little importance, why do the emperor’s own guards do your bidding?’ Leonis asked curiously.
Giaus shrugged. He had more important matters to contend with than who gave orders to the proconsul’s guard. The note was very specific, and it was beyond his capacity to achieve.
‘Who sent the note?’ the girl asked, starting to leave her seat so she could see the missive.
‘The abductors. Do you read?’
The girl shook her head but edged even closer, her straight white braid falling over her shoulder like an ice-covered rope. She was not a beautiful girl, although her features were balanced and fine-boned, but her paleness lent a certain appeal that he would never have considered possible until he saw her. She reminded him of a marble statue of Venus rising from the waves he’d seen in Rome. Pale, ethereal and yet deeply sensual.
‘It says that if I want my son back, Lucullus, the governor, must come for him himself. He is to bring only a small detachment of men with him to a place that will be designated later. Any attempt to get my son back by other means will result in his death.’
‘Will the governor do this thing?’ The girl’s voice was hopeful and her gaze met his, searching for reassurance. He found he wanted to give it to her. But why, when Cal was nothing to her, did she need reassuring?
‘I’m not sure. He’s not a man who allows others to pull his strings like a puppet. I do know he has plans to go North to oversee the fortifications in newly occupied territory. He might be willing to detour… What I don’t understand is what they hope to gain from having Lucullus do this personally.’
‘It’s a trap. The fact that they want him to attend this handover with only a small contingent of men indicates that it’s a trap,’ Leonis said decisively.
Gaius glanced at the set jaw and the fiery eyes of the Dacian. If anyone knew about traps, this man did.
‘Most likely. In which case, Lucullus can’t go to this meeting.’
The girl added her voice to the debate. ‘I don’t think your son will be at the meeting place, anyway. I think he’s already on his way to Olicana.’
‘The trap may be laid in Brigantes territory,’ Giaus pointed out.
The Dacian moved away from his position at the door and took the scroll from Giaus’ hands. He didn’t attempt to read it, simply hitting it against his open palm. ‘Not if they disguised themselves as Catuvellauri. I think they’ll arrange the trap in Catuvellauni territory. For some reason, they want to put the blame on them.’
‘If they don’t plan to hand the boy back at the meeting, why take him so far north?’ The girl stared up at the Dacian as if his insights were straight from the gods themselves. Jealousy ate at Gaius gut.
‘The boy is bait. He has to be kept alive and secure until whatever is to happen takes place. If something goes wrong, they’ll want the boy for their next move. I imagine they don’t have places safe enough for him elsewhere. If they are your people, Brennwen, then they’ll leave the boy with family or connections they consider trustworthy.’
‘But my people are no longer rebellious. Agricola brought them to their knees. They can’t fight again. It makes no sense.’ The girl rung her pale, thin hands and Gaius had the strongest urge to reach out and clasp them between his own, to calm and comfort her.
He fought the urge and refocused on the problem. ‘There are always rebels unwilling to accept defeat. If their numbers were small, maybe they would look to having others fight their battles for them. Especially their enemies. If I remember correctly, Brigantes and Catuvellauri are enemies.’
‘There has always been enmity between our tribes,’ the girl called Brennwen agreed.
An interesting name. He thought it meant raven, white raven, in the Britannic tongue. White ravens were always messengers of good tidings to his people. He hoped that would prove the case in this situation.
Another knock sounded on the door. Leonis opened it to admit the Praetorian who had been left to stand guard outside the tavern.
‘The rider who followed the trail of the fleeing horses has sent word that the group split up. It is impossible to follow the tracks as they have diverged and taken well-trodden paths.’
‘By the Gods, these Celts are crafty!’ Gaius had risen to address the Praetorian directly. The guard stood at eyelevel with him. The Dacian, who was a hand’s width taller again, looked down on them both thoughtfully. Gaius couldn’t help feeling daunted by the man, slave or not.
‘Send the cavalry out to seek information from the peasants. Someone must have seen a rider with a child moving quickly across the fields,’ Gaius told the guard. The Praetorian didn’t blink an eye as he nodded and withdrew.
‘Cal will be terrified. I have to find him,’ he said half to himself. The abductors were not fools. This plan had been carried out with military precision. His enemy was not to be underestimated.
‘We will.’ Brennwen had come to his side and now placed her cool hand on his wrist. ‘We know more than they think we do. The governor need not even go to this trap. We could go to my home and rescue m…your son, using what I know.’
‘It would take about six or seven days to get to Brigantes territory from here by fast horse,’ Gaius said thoughtfully as he stared at the pale hand resting on his wrist.
‘The meeting place will be in Catuvellauri territory, which is much closer. They’ll likely set it for a few days hence,’ Leonis said. ‘Only long enough for Lucullus to be brought on board and march his small contingent north.’
‘They’ll send the boy on ahead, then, to their backup location.’ Gaius could see it all clearly in his head. ‘Once their plan collapses, they’ll get to Cal as quickly as possible. We have to find some way to keep them in the south long enough for me to get to my son first.’
‘If any survive to go after your son. A trap can work two ways,’ Leonis said.
‘Yes. But there may be those not directly involved in the trap tasked with the next stage of the plan. I would rather get to Cal before the trap is sprung.’
‘How?’ Leonis studied him intently, as if he was a master strategist. If only the Dacian knew how little experience he had in these matters. Set him to building a fortress, he could make it happen faster than any man alive; set him to take a fortress, and he’d be woefully out of his depth.
‘I have to think on it. And speak to Lucullus. He’s not a man to play games with rebels, even for the life of a child.’
‘You have to convince him, sir. Without him, Cal – that is his name?’ The girl call Brennwen looked anxiously up at him and he nodded. ‘Cal is dead and a war is begun that will make Boudicca’s revolt seem like a children’s fistfight.’
Gaius felt a shiver of preternatural fear run up and down his spine. Brennwen was wise beyond her years, and knew things no one else could possibly know. The gods, his or hers, were strong in this girl.
‘I am going back to the governor’s offices now to speak with Lucullus. Will you two come with me?’
Brennwen didn’t even look in Leonis’ direction. She simply nodded her agreement.
The Dacian nodded more slowly. ‘I’ll stay for the moment, to lend weight to Brennwen’s words, but I have tasks to perform for my mistress that can’t wait. I would love to be part of this rescue mission, but you don’t need me.’
‘I think your connections will help sway Lucullus,’ Gaius said as he ushered Brennwen through the door Leonis had opened, and then followed her out.
‘This will require careful handling.’ Leonis shut the door behind t
hem and followed Gaius and Brennwen across the taproom into the sunshine.
‘I’ve been told careful handling is my forte. I may not have found glory in war, but I have developed certain skills for keeping the peace.’
‘Rome would not be the empire it is without both,’ Leonis said, offering him respect he hadn’t asked for nor expected.
They walked quickly through the busy late-morning crowds. As they reached the Forum a gong sounded, announcing the baths were open. It was midday.
In his office, Gaius was quick to notice that everything had been put to rights except for the broken door, which would require replacing.
‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have made your presence known less dramatically,’ he said to the lionslayer, indicating the splintered doorframe.
‘I was in a hurry and knew your inferiors would keep me from you if I let them.’
Gaius barked a humourless laugh. ‘I’m glad you’re a man of action, Dacian. I doubt the Praetorians feel the same way. There’ll be hell to pay for this breech in security.’
His assistant, Volturius, who was hardly more than a pimple-faced youth, stared at him wordlessly from behind his desk. He didn’t seem to know whether to stand or stay seated.
Gaius indicated the bench against the wall next to his assistant’s desk. ‘Sit down, Brennwen. You’re still not recovered properly from our exertions. My assistant will fetch you food and more wine while you wait. Dacian, come with me.’
He didn’t wait to see if his orders were followed. With measured steps he went down the hall to the governor’s office. Here, the governor’s assistant jumped to his feet immediately.
‘L. Sallustius Lucullus awaits you, sir.’ He opened the doors to the inner office for Gaius, bowing as he did so.
With Leonis on his heel, Gaius entered the large room beyond the doors with alacrity. Lucullus, a tall, thin, middle-aged man with severe features and steel-grey, closely cropped hair was pacing the room, obviously awaiting him.
‘Gaius, what’s all this about an abduction? The building is in uproar and the cavalry is on the move,’ Lucullus demanded urgently.
‘My son has been abducted from the Temple of Ceres. A missive arrived demanding you meet with the culprits in return for my child’s freedom.’
‘Oh, Gaius, this is bad news indeed. Who would think to target a child like this? I’ll do what I can to assure his safe return. What would you have of me?’ Lucullus spoke with tense compassion as he came to Gaius’ side and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Lucullus’ obvious concern surprised him. ‘I thought you wouldn’t wish to involve yourself.’
‘Involve myself? What foolishness is that? I owe you much, my friend. Without you, I would blunder about this island like the oafish soldier I am, alienating old enemies and friends alike. You have given me your time, your diplomacy and your multi-facetted expertise. Why would you think I would be unwilling to help you in return?’
The governor was hardly the oaf he described himself as, yet Gaius still found it shockingly gratifying to be the subject of the man’s heartfelt declaration. He knew Lucullus valued his skills, he had said so often enough, but this wholehearted support was totally unexpected. He felt tears sting his eyes. To distract himself, he focused on Cal.
‘It is my belief that my son is being transported into Brigantes territory, while the meeting place for the supposed hand-over will take place in Catuvellauni territory. It will be a trap.’
‘But what have the Catuvellauni to gain from my death?’
‘Nothing. We don’t believe they’re involved in this. The abductors simply dressed as such to misdirect us.’
‘But why?’
‘To start a war. There are still plenty of rebels in the far north who want us driven from the isle. If they can kill you, they are half way there.’
‘So we trap those who would trap me. That is easily done. But what of your son? His safety must be our principal concern.’
‘I was alerted to the abduction by a seer sent to me by Livia Davrydiani. The seer seems to think she knows where Cal will be kept. But it will take me at least five days to get there by ship and then overland. We believe the hand-over will be arranged sooner than that.’ Gaius indicated Leonis when he said we.
For the first time, Lucullus looked with interest at the silent Dacian. ‘What is your part in this?’
‘I am the slave of Livia Davrydiani, sent to accompany the seer.’
‘You’re the one that turned my offices upside down. Davrydianus? I remember a fellow by that name. He was a peregrine granted citizenship by Claudius for his valour.’
‘My mistress is married to Allyn, his son. They live on an estate in Durotriges territory that Davrydianus now supervises for Rome.’
‘Hmm, yes. I would like to reacquaint myself with him. My father liked the man very much. They had a great deal in common, being fellow-countrymen serving Rome. And so it is your opinion that this trap will be sprung soon?’
‘Yes, sir. I believe you’ll be sent further instructions within the next day. They’ll want to meet in Catuvellauni territory to lead you to believe the attack was mounted by that tribe. My suggestion is to hold off the meeting until the child can be rescued from further North. They may cut their losses and run when their trap fails. The child will lose his life then.’
‘So, a day for the meeting place to be arranged, two or three days to get there. That’s still a few days short of the desired time needed to mount a rescue mission for the child.’
‘We stall for time. Maybe the word will get out that you’ve taken ill, something that will keep you abed for a few days?’ Leonis suggested.
‘I’m a busy man. I have no time to loll around in bed. But I get your point. I’ll restrict myself to quarters for a few days. The rebels will have to rethink their timetable if they want to involve me. Hopefully, it will give us time to get the child.’ Lucullus turned to Gaius. ‘Of course, I could send a message to our fort at Eboricum. A relay of messengers could get to Brigantes territory in three days. They could mount the mission from there.’
‘You won’t know where to find Cal,’ Gaius said thoughtfully. ‘The seer is the only one who seems to have that detailed information. And if my boy is to be recovered safely it must be done in secret, without alerting his captors. Legionaries can’t be involved for that reason. I believe I need to go North, myself, with this seer. Alone… or possibly with a small group of warriors. I may have just the men. Gladiators. They’ll look like they’re arranging a suitable site to stage a contest. No one will connect them with this mission.’
‘Ingenious. You can trust these men you’re thinking of?’ Lucullus studied him from beneath his grey brows, as if seeing another side to Gaius for the first time.
‘Absolutely. One will be my brother-in-law. But I can’t wait for them to be enlisted. I’ll send word for them to meet me at Olicana. By then the seer and I will have hopefully located Cal and have a good idea of what we’ll need to do to rescue him safely.’
‘I’ll send a messenger to your brother-in-law,’ Lucullus offered, heading for the door to get his assistant’s attention.
‘No, the less people know of this plan the better. I’ll go,’ Leonis said. ‘Give me directions and I’ll go to your brother-in-law and tell him the plan. I wish I could go with you, but I have business I must carry out for my mistress… However, this much I can do.’
Gaius nodded his gratitude. ‘I’ll draw you a map. Get them to Olicana as quickly as you can.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brennwen felt sick with worry. The Roman noble had abandoned her, like some useless tool, here in his office while he went off to plan the mission to save her son. But she couldn’t let him leave her out. She had to be there to rescue Cal!
What an odd name for her child: Cal. Maybe it was shortened from a longer Roman name like Caligula. She hoped her boy didn’t carry the name of that insane emperor. But whatever his name, he was her son and her responsibility.
She had let him die once, unable to save herself or him from those brutes, but she wouldn’t let it happen again. No matter what the patrician wanted, she would be involved.
Annius Bibulus’ assistant had brought her food and more wine. She hadn’t broken her fast that morning because of her agitation, and the earlier wine had gone to her head, adding to her sickness. Now she needed to ground herself and get her strength back. That meant eating, even if she didn’t feel like it.
There had been countless times when Braedyn had coaxed her to eat when she didn’t want to. Countless times when he sat at her side encouraging her to take just another mouthful, for her own good. A body needed fuel like a fire needed wood, he used to say.
Now she knew she couldn’t help her son if she didn’t fuel her body. So she ate. Though her stomach rebelled at the taste and her heart urged her to start chasing after her child immediately, she let her mind take charge. Cal’s father wouldn’t let anything happen to him. He was a wise and capable leader, she’d already witnessed that. If anyone could find a way to rescue her boy, he could.
While she chewed unenthusiastically on fresh baked bread soaked in herbed oil, she let her mind sift through much needed details about Cal’s father. The more she understood him, the more she could trust him.
He wasn’t a particularly tall man. Even so, the top of her head still only reached his chin. She had noticed that he bristled around men that were taller than him, a little like a small dog would lift its hackles around a larger animal to make itself look bigger. But he didn’t have that arrogant, aggressive pose she had seen short men adopt. Nor did he snap and bite to make his point, as a small dog might. No, Cal’s father had a quiet confidence about him that said, ‘I’m not particularly commanding to look at, but I know what needs doing and will get it done’.
His dark hair, cut short in the Roman fashion, was brushed forward at the front to cover a slight receding hairline. It was hardly noticeable, but Brennwen had seen the man brush his palm forward over the top of his head to make sure the slightly longer length formed a short fringe across his brow. That told her he was self-conscious about what he perceived as a shortcoming.