by Tanya Allan
We laughed together as we marched.
The Roman army had built a series of fortified camps around the north of Londinium. Some soldiers were deployed in the city as a kind of police force, keeping the peace and maintaining order. Some patrolled the dock-sides to prevent theft from the many cargo vessels moored by the warehouses. Most of the soldiers were housed in these well designed transit camps or garrison camps.
Our small band of some one hundred persons, of which forty were women, arrived at one such camp on the Northern Road. It comprised of thirty in the women’s corps and ten possible recruits taken from the batch of female captives, with forty other captives destined to be sold into slavery very soon. The latter were all male and would probably end up on the benches of the galleys or as gladiators. I had persuaded the ten women that joining me was preferable to becoming slaves and possible sex workers in Rome. It had been a no-brainer. I was surprised at the ease by which they accepted. It dawned on me that the taking of captives and forcing them into slavery was a practice conducted by every tribe and people group in these dark days.
The elderly officer – a centurion of the lowest rank, in charge of the virtually empty camp informed Gaius that we could take what tents we needed, but we were responsible for keeping the place clean and for our own food and supplies. Our cooks set up their field kitchen and everyone was allocated a billet.
The few other soldiers here were due to return to their units shortly, and Gallinas had arranged for us to have sole use of the camp thereafter.
A junior officer in charge of a detachment of legionaries took the captives, still roped together, into the city. The captives were destined for the market, in order to get rid of them for the best price.
The market was close to the docks, as many of the dealers would often come in by ship to see what was available. They were looking for bargains, as slaves were cheap here compared to back in Rome. Sometimes the fearsome warriors of these parts would become very successful gladiators and draw huge crowds and some following amongst the wealthy women of Rome.
Gaius and I supervised the new women getting sorted for uniforms and also to become acquainted with their instructors. This time the team leaders joined the male instructors, bringing the other teams in to assist. Each of the new girls would join one team, so it made sense. It also kept them occupied.
Iona took it very seriously, so was content to be left in charge.
Gallinas came over to watch as we immediately set the girls in training, starting with the fitness regime
He watched for a while, his face etched in a frown. He turned to me and looked me up and down. I stood at least five inches taller than him.
“These uniforms are fine for creeping about in the woodlands, but not for a smart presentation before the governor,” Gallinas said.
“You paying?” I said, making Gaius snort with held laughter.
“I will authorise smart uniforms for you and your, your...”
“Second in command?” I furnished.
“Whatever, yes.”
“While we’re on this subject, I want the rank of base Centurion, and Iona will be an Optio.”
Woman, you are in no position to demand anything.”
“You reckon?” I asked and simply looked at him. “When I have one hundred female legionaries, what will it look like to have a woman of no rank leading them?”
He mulled it over, glancing at Gaius.
“Did you put her up to this?” he asked.
“No sir, but it would make sense.”
“Why am I not surprised you would agree with her. Are you fucking her yet?”
“If he was, he’d be unable to stand straight,” I said.
Gallinas smiled, against his will, I think.
“Very well, but I need you to have a different uniform to the norm; to segregate you from the ordinary legionaries.”
“Segregate or make us stand out?”
“Same thing,” he said.
“No, it isn’t. Then, I respectfully suggest no red, just black cloaks and tunics, with black kilts.”
“Why black?”
“It’s different.”
“Very well, see the armourer and the camp tailor.”
“I also need to arrange payment for all of us. I suggest parity with the male wages. We should supply enlistment papers, just to be legal.”
He was surprised.
“Don’t push it, woman!”
“How do you intend to keep them in the ranks if you do not pay a fare wage? They will just not be here in the morning when you wake up. How will you find them?”
This came as a shock, as well.
Gaius enjoyed watching his young commander squirm. Gallinas looked cross for a moment and then smiled.
“Damn it, why not? Gaius, set it up. Base wages only, no extras.”
“Sir.”
“I’m off to report to the Governor. I expect everything to be arranged for when I return.”
“When will that be, sir?”
“I don’t know; a week?”
“Sir.”
We watched the young popinjay flounce across the yard to shout for his horse and his clerk. The latter was a young man, barely out of his teens. Probably another high-born Roman lad, destined for leadership by his influential parents.
“Is he fucking his clerk?” I asked.
Gaius laughed.
“Why; jealous?”
I looked at him.
“Are you serious, of that little boy?”
“He might be someone, one day.”
“Fuck him; I’d rather have a man who is someone now.”
“I’m someone, and a man,” he said, somewhat hopefully, I thought.
I smiled.
“Let’s go see the armourer, shall we?” I said, leading the way.
The armourer looked dumbfounded at us, disbelieving what he’d been told.
“Women?” he asked.
“Yes, women.”
What exactly do you need?”
I produced the paper upon which I’d listed my requirements. Actually, it wasn’t paper as I’d known it. The Romans made paper from the papyrus plant[iv]. They were efficient and produced a great number of types of paper for many uses. It was expensive, so the small piece I had managed to acquire was rare.
Gaius regarded me for a moment, glancing at the paper. I’d written my list in Latin, just in case an enemy agent should get sight of or a hold of it.
“You never cease you amaze me. Where did you learn to read and write in this language?”
“I also read and write Greek, as well as a few other languages. Don’t you?”
“I can get with just this one. I know some Greek, as it is the language of commerce. Exactly where are you from?”
“If I told you, you will have never heard of it, and if you tried to find it, you’d fail.”
“The Brigantes said you were a Goddess. Were they right?”
“I don’t know, were they?”
He shrugged as the armourer regarded us with a glazed expression.
“Do you want to give me that list or not?” he said wearily.
I handed it over. He read it carefully and very slowly. I guessed he wasn’t brilliantly literate.
“These will take a while,” he said.
“Fine. Send word to me when they are ready and I’ll get the girls to come and collect them.”
The tailor was next.
“Black? That’s expensive.”
“Tribune Gallinas is paying, so that’s not a consideration,” I said. The man grinned, displaying a singular lack of teeth.
Just as the armourer, my order would take two or three weeks to complete. Fortunately, there was not much work for them at this moment. More troops were due to arrive in Britain at some point in the next few weeks, but they were due to go to another camp, so things were quiet at this particular camp for the foreseeable future.
Gaius and I walked back across the camp. I stopped and looked out of th
e main gate at the city to the south.
“Have you been to Londinium before?” I asked.
“Aye, we disembarked here two years ago. It’s grown some since then.”
“I’d like to see it, but not like this,” I said, gesturing to my somewhat militaristic, but obviously female garb.
“You mean I have to disguise you? That’ll be novel,” he said, chuckling.
“What do you suggest?”
“You’re too big to walk about as a Roman woman. Besides, you’re too fair and tanned. If you dress as a local woman, you’d never carry it off, for similar reasons.”
“So, then what as?”
He grinned.
“Come with me,” he said, with a sneaky smile.
“You have to be kidding!” I said, as he placed the helmet on my head, successfully hiding my hair, which I’d put up.
“Okay, I’m sorry that your breasts are a bit squashed, but the breastplate is a good fit otherwise.”
I was dressed as a centurion, in full kit with red cloak, plumed helmet and burnished breastplate. I even had the sword on the belt across my shoulder so it hung in the right place by my left side.
He was dressed similarly, except he had a larger plume on his helmet, being a senior centurion.
“Technically you’re simply wearing the uniform that denotes your new rank,” he said. “No one would recognise you, even your own mother.”
“Particularly my own mother,” I said.
“Shall we go?” he asked.
“Look, you don’t have to come,” I said.
“Don’t be stupid, of course I’m coming. You’re up to something, and I am not going to be fobbed off.”
Unwittingly, I had recruited an ally, and I wasn’t inclined to fob him off. The last agent died a nasty death, so I was determined to succeed where he failed.
“Okay, come on,” I said, and we walked out into the sunshine.
I received no suspicious glances as I tried to emulate a masculine swagger. Actually, it was easy, for all I did was remember being Ed. The comic irony wasn’t lost on me. Here I was, a man being a woman, dressed as a man. The grin I held was irrepressible.
Being the senior centurion, as with modern military, Gaius took the salutes and acknowledgements from the lower ranks. I simply marched slightly to his rear at one side, as was expected.
It was fascinating walking down through the collection of buildings that would one day be London. It was amazingly well laid out and organised. The Roman military machine was responsible for the design and execution of this little miracle. A double miracle, for the Iceni had attacked and raised the last town to the ground in the sixth decade. This lot was all relatively new, built as it had been over the last thirty years. To think that in three hundred years or so, the Romans would start to leave and a time of barbarism would follow, as the people lost the advances that the Romans had produced.
The smell of horse manure and general human waste was ever pervasive. They hadn’t actually designed the sewers properly yet, so it was all a bit niffy. As we reached the north bank of the Thames, all I could see were ships alongside the quays. Big, wooden constructed warehouses littered the area, with the names of the merchants and traders above the doors.
The water flowed, carrying a lot more than water towards the sea. A lot of the smell came from the waste that flowed past.
I stopped and looked around. Where to start? That was the question.
“What are you looking for?” Gaius asked.
“A Phoenician trader called Glax.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
I looked at him, meeting his eyes.
“Because he’s responsible for killing a friend of mine, and he’s a danger to the Empire.”
“If anyone else said that, I’d laugh at them. Why is it that I think you might well be a Goddess?”
“Because you Romans see deities in everything.”
“So, you’re not denying it?”
“Don’t be an arse, Gaius; you’re more intelligent than that. I’m as mortal as you are”
“I heard that there was this man in Palestine who was crucified to death for claiming he was the son of the Jews’ God. They also said that after three days he rose out of his tomb and vanished after meeting his followers. They never found his body.”
“Do you believe it?”
He shrugged looking down at the ships.
“This world is a strange place. Gods complicate things, but to be without them would be unthinkable.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t know. They said he could walk on water and bring the dead back to life. There’s pretty good evidence, don’t you think?”
I nodded, saying nothing.
“You led an army of women against a Roman legion and won. You are faster, stronger and more intelligent than anyone I have ever met. If you are a Goddess, then so be it. If you aren’t, then you damn well should be. Come, let’s find this Glax.”
Talk about a needle in a haystack.
I didn’t have a clue where to start, but Gaius did. I followed him to the dock-master. He was an older Roman, dressed in a quasi-uniform.
“Culminus was a naval captain. He’s been here for around thirty years now. He is in charge of the docks, and all ship masters have to report to him, listing their wares, last port of call and designation. Most are shipping goods and supplies for the army, but many are merchants seeking to cash in on an opening market. If anyone knows of this Glax, it’ll be him.”
“Be careful, we don’t want anyone alerted that we’re looking for him.”
“Why not?”
“We suspect he’s carrying trained mercenaries over to Dacia to assist an armed revolt against the Empire in the east.”
Gaius stopped dead, turned slowly and regarded me with a frown deeply etched in his face.
“We?”
Shit!
Me and my big mouth; how do I dig my way out of this one?
“We gods and goddesses, you know, always keeping an eye on you mere mortals.”
He looked down.
“I understand that maybe you can’t tell me, but is it because knowing will put me in danger, or will the information be meaningless to me?”
“You are far too intelligent for your own good. Look, I really can’t tell you for both reasons, but I will promise that once it is over, I will tell you everything. I must ask that you....”
“Layla, I am your friend, so do not even ask. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good, we will speak no more of this. This man is a Phoenician, yes?”
“I believe so, but he is a Roman citizen now.”
“Right, then I know just how to approach this. Follow me.”
Chapter Nine
Culminus obviously knew Gaius, for as soon as we mounted the external wooden staircase to his office that over-looked the quayside, the older man grinned and enveloped my companion is a massive bear hug.
“You scoundrel, I haven’t seen you in far too long. Where have you been?” he said, pulling out an amphora which I knew contained either wine or something stronger.
“With the Ninth, fighting the barbarians in the north. How have you been keeping?”
“Mustn’t grumble, but this place is a pig!”
“Oh?”
“Can’t trust anyone. Steal the nose off your face if it wasn’t attached, they would. We’ve had to double the patrols as these damn Britons are sneaky bastards. Nice as pie to your face, but turn your back and they’re off into whatever is laying about. Did you see the gates?”
“Yes, they weren’t there the last time we were here.”
“Damn right. We’ve fenced off the port, making everyone go through the gates. The soldiers were crap at searching, but with practice they’re getting better.”
He switched his attention to me.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“Culminus, meet Lucius Patricus, he’s
not been with the Legion long. I told him I’d show him the sights.”
“Good to meet you, Lucius. If you’re a friend of Gaius, then you can’t be bad in my books. Take your helmet off and relax. I have some good wine here; fresh from home.”
“We can’t stay, old friend, we’re after some information,” Gaius said.
“Oh?” he replied, arching his eyebrows.
“We’re losing military supplies, and we got wind of a merchant who might be up to no good. It could be he’s buying it up and shipping it out to resell abroad.”
“Got a name?”
I was about to speak, but Gaius got in there before me.
“Not as such, but he’s possibly a Phoenician.”
“There’s a few of them about. Tight bastards, for the most part, as they play their cards close to their chest. It’s all about making a profit to them.”
“Well, any you think might be bent?”
“Oh yes, there are three that use the port regularly. The sneakiest has got to be Glax.”
One has to get a picture of who the Phoenicians were. Although under the Romans, the Phoenician influence had for the most part declined. Their hay-day had been during the 12th century BC, as they were renowned traders across the Mediterranean, particularly in the eastern end. By the time the Romans came along, they had declined to a shadow of their former glory. They weren’t actually a nation-state, but a collection of city states along the eastern end of the Mediterranean. Their cities were famous Canaanite cities, like Tyre and Sidon.
Their name was not of a people group or language, but instead came from the Greek word for the colour purple that they used to export.
Under the Romans, their cities were lumped together with all the rest in Palestine. However, their legacy to mankind is significant. They were the first to use an alphabet and exported it across the region, meaning that others apart from priests could learn to read and write. They also created an almost democratic form of government, from which the Greeks took the original idea and developed it further.
“Glax?”
“Yes. He’s a funny one, that one. He’s a Roman citizen, so is exempt from some of the taxes that foreigners have to pay. Mind you, he hangs out with the strangest people; locals mainly. He pretends to like us, but I’ve seen him watching the soldiers as they go about their business, and he’s up to something. I have no idea what, but he’s definitely a shifty one.”