She was staring at me. ‘You’re letting me go?’
‘No, not at all. What happens to you, one way or another, is up to Claudius. After all, we already have a self-confessed killer, so as far as that side of things goes the case is technically closed. And you can’t get a higher authority than the emperor himself. Me, all I can do is go back to Rome, give him the facts – all the facts, with no fudging – and let him decide where to take it from there. Which is what I’m going to do.’
She sat very still for a long time. ‘Does Titus know?’ she said, finally. ‘That I killed his father?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he say anything when you told him?’
‘Only that he understood your reasons.’
‘Not that he sympathized?’
‘No. He said nothing else at all. You’d have to ask him that yourself.’
She nodded. ‘Very well. Publius knows too, I think, although he hasn’t said anything, or even hinted.’
Yeah. If I was right about the whole looking-through-the-window bit – and I was – then he’d have to know; would’ve known all along, from the very beginning. He was far from stupid, young Publius. And he was used to keeping secrets. ‘You’ll tell him?’ I said. ‘Straight out?’
‘Yes, I will. I’ll do it now; you have my word.’ She stood up; I did, too. ‘Thank you, Valerius Corvinus. You’ve been very … understanding. For a Roman.’
Well, I’d take that as a compliment, back-handed though it was. And I was glad, now, that I could go home with a clear conscience.
I still had a fair slice of sightseeing to look forward to, mind, particularly where Massilia was concerned: having been balked of what she viewed as her basic holiday ration of temples, public monuments, and antiquities on the way out, Perilla would no doubt insist on a double helping during the return journey. Even so, we’d be doing it without Smarmer in attendance this time around, and I was sure I could trade it off against a protracted tour of the wineshops. After all, when Claudius and I did get round the table he’d expect a preliminary chat about the merits of the different local vintages. I was looking forward to trying more of the seafood, too.
We didn’t go abroad much, the lady and I, and certainly not as pampered guests of the empire. We might as well enjoy ourselves.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The revolt strand
The projected revolt of AD 42 is a complete invention of my own; however, the rationale behind it is, I hope, tenable. First of all, the Treveri were, even for Gauls, a problematic tribe right from the start: they put up a stiff fight against Caesar at the original conquest, staged a revolt a generation later, a second, together with the Aedui, in AD 21 (this was the Florus revolt) as a result of which they lost their free-tribe status, and a third in AD 70. Evidently, happy with their lot as provincials they weren’t, during the first century, at least.
Second, the months preceding Claudius’s invasion of Britain (which took place in AD 43, the year after the story closes) would have been the ideal time for a rebellion, particularly, as I suggest, if there were British agents around to foment it: as Balbinus says in the story, Gauls and Britons were basically one people, separated only artificially by history and politics, and Gauls already disillusioned with life as part of the empire would not – at least in their hearts – view its expansion across the Channel with any favour. A revolt at this point, however minor, might well have serious consequences where the invasion was concerned, particularly if it spread to other areas or if the German tribes across the Rhine chose to seize the opportunity to break the always-uneasy truce: the British campaign needed four legions (together with the auxiliary troops, about forty thousand men in all) with a fifth in reserve, and three of these came from the Rhine garrisons, which had a total strength of only eight. Safety margins, therefore, would have been extremely slim.
Towns in Gaul
Roman Gaul, although it corresponds in general to modern France, was a little larger: since its northern border was the Rhine, it included what is now Belgium (hence the name of its northernmost province, Gallia Belgica; the other two were Lugdunensis, in the middle, and Narbonensis to the south) and a slice of Germany. I’ve kept the original Roman names for the towns (except for Vienne, whose Latin name Vienna might have caused confusion), but you may be interested to know their modern equivalents.
Acunum – Anconne
Aquae Sextiae – Aix
Arausio – Orange
Arelate – Arles
Augusta Treverorum – Trier
Burdigala – Bordeaux
Caesarodunum – Tours
Durocortorum – Rheims
Gesoriacum – Boulogne
Itius – exact site disputed (possibly Wissant), but another Channel port
Lugdunum – Lyon
Massilia – Marseille
Moguntiacum – Mainz
Valentia – Valence
Julius
Readers may find it odd – and perhaps annoying! – that a large number of the Gallic characters in Foreign Bodies have Julius/Julia as part of their name. Not my fault: because most Gauls – at this point in time, at least – would have had their citizenship (individual, or as one of a community) granted through, originally, Julius Caesar, and after him the Julian emperors Augustus, Tiberius (by adoption), and Gaius, by Roman custom their new ‘family’ name would be Julius as well. I’m afraid I rebelled myself when I got to the merchant Tarbeisus: his citizen name, Trebonius, was taken (totally spuriously, and without any logical justification whatsoever) from Gaius Trebonius, one of Caesar’s lieutenants. Any Roman names buffs who got hot under the collar about this will have to forgive me.
One last (brief) note on Secundus’s Gallic bowl. I’ve based this on the famous Gundestrup Cauldron, found in a Danish peat bog at the end of the nineteenth century, which – although, as Secundus says, it is more typically Thracian in terms of technique than Celtic – remains one of the finest examples of ancient Celtic silverware in existence. I chose this because the ambiguity of the subject matter (is the scene I’ve described a human sacrifice, made for military reasons, or as Optima suggests connected with renewal/rebirth?) seemed to fit very well with the theme of the planned revolt.
I hope you enjoyed the book. Please, if you want to make any comments or ask a question, or if you simply have nothing better to do with your time, don’t hesitate to get in touch through the website. Always a pleasure to hear from readers (well, usually, anyway … )
My very best wishes to you.
David Wishart
Foreign Bodies Page 28