Caledonia

by William Kelso

  From the corner of his eye he saw the white robed druid coming towards him. His long flowing robes fluttered in the breeze. The druid stopped before him and Vellocatus got up on his knees.

  "I am just a slave," he whined, "Please you must believe me. I am a friend. I was an oarsman on the galley. The men onboard my ship forced me to come with them. They put the chains on me when I said I wanted to go back. Honestly, I don't know what they were doing here. Please, that is the truth."

  The druid said nothing. Then the man stooped and before Vellocatus could react he ripped the leather pouch from Vellocatus's belt. The man turned the pouch upside down and out rolled a single piece of red amber.

  "That's not mine," Vellocatus stammered with a sudden furious blush.

  The druid examined the stone in his hand and then crouched beside Vellocatus.

  "My daughter said that one day men would come to try and take the stones," he said quietly, "but I thought you would be better prepared than the bungling that I witnessed from up here." The pale blue eyes seemed to bore into Vellocatus. "Tell me your name?"

  Vellocatus gave the druid his name.

  The white robed man stroked his grey beard for a long moment.

  "Was it worth it? Your quest for the stones?" he said at last. "Will there be others coming after you? If you tell me the truth this time I will give you a clean quick death."

  Vellocatus stared at the druid in sudden terror.

  "I have friends," he protested with a panicked splutter.

  "Baldurix is dead, I killed him," the druid said quietly. "Your friends will not be coming to rescue you. Now tell me what I want to know."

  "I want to live," Vellocatus suddenly cried out in growing terror.

  The druid's bony fingers shot forwards and clasped Vellocatus by the throat. Vellocatus choked and spluttered.

  "Tell me," a voice whispered.

  "There is no one else. I told no one else about the stones," Vellocatus gasped.

  The druid stared at him and for a brief moment it seemed as if the old man could see straight into Vellocatus's soul.

  Then the man released his grip and rose.

  "You lie," he hissed. Then the druid was gesturing to the men sitting in the circle in the grass.

  "Do it," he nodded.

  The men rose to their feet. They looked serious and solemn. They grabbed Vellocatus and flipped him onto his stomach. His ankles were bound tightly together so that he could no longer move his legs. Then his arms were pulled over his head and his hands bound tightly. Finally two metal chains were wrapped around his torso and fastened into place. When they were done the men stepped back. Vellocatus turned and twisted his head to try and see what was going on. Then he felt a cold metal rod being inserted through the ropes and chains that bound him. His eyes suddenly bulged and his mouth opened and he screamed in pure terror as he finally realised what was happening. The druid was planning to roast him alive over the fire, as if he were a pig. He opened his mouth, sucked air into his lungs and screamed and screamed. Still screaming the men hoisted him up into the air and carried him over to the fire. The smoke blew into his face. Then with a metallic clang the spit was set in place. The fire crackled and burned beneath him. He could feel the heat from the fire. It was burning. The heat, the terrible heat was scorching his skin and flesh. He screamed again as someone started to rotate him like a roasting animal. Round and round he went as the fire burned and blistered him. As the agony steadily grew he suddenly remembered the dream he'd had two nights before. The heat, the growing heat. The gods had not wanted him to succeed. They had been warning him. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness Vellocatus's final glimpse of life was of a girl and a big dog striding purposefully towards the druid.

  Chapter Forty Nine - Father and daughter

  Emogene could hear the man screaming from outside the fort. The warriors guarding the entrance gate through the first wall looked nervous and uncomfortable as she and Bones approached Bannatia. Emogene said nothing as the men recognised her and called out to her but when one of them tried to block her path she angrily shoved him aside. The warriors let her go.

  "Where is my father?" she cried to a woman hurrying along in the opposite direction. In reply the woman turned and nodded her head in the direction from which the screaming was coming.

  Emogene strode on through the second wall without another word. After the surprise nocturnal visitor had knocked her unconscious she had come to whilst it was still dark. The Roman whom had been imprisoned with her had gone and so had her assailant but the man had left the door open for her. Outside she had found the body of a guard and a dead dog. She had known about the young Roman prisoner for a while. Her father had lured him to Bannatia and had locked him up in the chambered well after the man had been heard asking questions about amber in Tuesis. That had been just after Samhain a year ago. Her father had decided not to kill the man right away. He was intending to sacrifice him on Samhain as an offering to the gods. But now the prisoner had escaped and that was a problem. The young man knew about the amber, he had guessed where the amber cave was. He had told her so during the long bored hours they'd spent together in the dark.

  That night she fled to Tuesis and there, still reeling from what her father had done and intended to do, she had been reunited with an old friend. Her kin in Tuesis had welcomed her and told her that the war dog had arrived one day in the company of a stranger. A Roman, they had muttered uneasily. They also knew about the attack that Baldurix was planning. Her father had warned them. He was, they told her, going to launch a pre-emptive strike. He'd also gotten some of the war bands in the highlands to come down from the hills and keep the Romans busy in their forts. So her father had listened to her after all. The realisation had given her courage. But their relationship had changed. Bodvoc had told her he thought her father was not serious about executing her. He was only showing that the law applied to all, even a druid's daughter. But Emogene had not believed that. She had seen the glint in her father's eye as he had condemned her. The old man had meant every word. So she had spent many hours thinking about what to do until at last a solution had presented itself. She would go to Bannatia and confront him.

  She passed the third wall and strode up the slope towards the edge of the cliffs. Bones padded along beside her. As she passed the steps leading down to the well she refused to look at the place. She would never drink water from there again. Something was about to change. The man was still screaming but his cries were getting weaker and weaker. Emogene did not pause as she caught sight of the sickening scene. She couldn't see the man's face nor did she care. The warriors feeding the fire with wood looked pale, uneasy and subdued. Her father stood to one side watching the man slowly roast to death. He turned as he heard her approach. She halted a few paces from him.

  "I have come back," she said staring him squarely in the face.

  For just a tiny fraction of a moment she caught a glimpse of surprise on her father's face. The pale blue eyes examined her coolly but he said nothing.

  "I have come back," Emogene repeated, "to tell you how I managed to escape. A man, I believe a Roman, came in the midst of the night, killed the guard and knocked me unconscious. He came for the prisoner but the young man, whom you refused to kill, knows about the amber. He has guessed that the cave is right here beneath our feet. He has guessed that the amber comes from the sea. He told me all of this. I don't know where he has gone but if he and the man who freed him make it back to one of their forts then the location of our secret will be revealed."

  Emogene raised her chin. Her eyes blazed.

  "You," her finger suddenly shot out and pointed at her father, "broke our law. You should have killed the prisoner when you had the chance. Now your decision has placed us all in danger."

  "Enough," Dougal's sharp voice interrupted, "I have heard enough. My decision has been made Emogene. It is you who nearly ruined us. You told this man here where to find the amber."

  Her father gesture
d for the warriors around the fire to seize her. The men however hesitated.

  "No," Emogene snapped, "One word from me and by the gods I swear I will order Bones to rip out your throat."

  Her father's pale blue eyes shifted to look at the dog.

  "Bones, come here," he bellowed but the dog did not move.

  "I am your daughter," Emogene said, "I have your blood. You failed us, you failed to protect us. It is I who warned you about Baldurix and it is I who killed Conall to protect the stones. You no longer have the authority to lead us. Go home old man, go home and brood on your failure."

  Dougal angrily took a step towards her but a sharp command from her brought Bones up onto his feet.

  "I know what you have been seeking all these years," Emogene cried out, "I know the question that frustrates you. You wonder why the gods don't answer. You despair at being unable to stop the Roman conquest. That is why you were planning to sacrifice the prisoner on Samhain. That's why you kept him alive. You needed a sign, a great sign, from the gods to show us that they will support us in our struggle for our freedom."

  Emogene placed her hands on her hips.

  "Well I am that sign," she yelled, "I survived. I survived war, I survived rape, I survived torture, I survived the sea and now I will survive you. This is my land and it will be here long after we are gone. These are my people and it is my freedom that you claim to protect but if you cannot do so then what use do we have for you?"

  "You cannot speak to the gods, only the druids can," her father retorted raising his oak staff threateningly in the air.

  "You can no more speak to the gods than I can," Emogene sneered, "But I know this. We do not need the gods to give us hope. We are strong. The strength to win this war is already within us. We just have to belief in it. As long as we continue to believe in ourselves then one day we will regain our freedom and the Romans will leave. That is what you should be telling people."

  Her father hurled his oak staff at her and it struck her shoulder. Emogene stooped and picked it up. Then in a swift action she snapped the staff over her leg and threw the broken pieces onto the ground.

  "Go home," she cried at her father.

  The druid was staring at the broken staff in disbelief. Then he looked up at her and it was as if something within him had changed.

  "I will go after the Roman prisoner and kill him," Dougal muttered turning away. "He is weak and feverish. He will be moving slowly. After the escape I sent men to watch the Roman forts. If he tries to escape by that way, they will catch him."

  "No," Emogene shook her head, "I will go. Those two men must not be allowed to escape. You will stay here and mend our relations with the Decantae. Then after I return, I never want to see you again."

  Chapter Fifty - What reconciliation?

  The hair on Corbulo's neck rose as he heard Marcus's weak voice in the dark. He had found him, he had found his son. He'd been right. Marcus was alive. Shaking he stepped over the girl and into the well. It was too dark for him to see anything. Then he heard a moan close by.

  "Marcus, it's me, are you hurt?" he whispered.

  His question was answered by another groan. Then Corbulo's foot touched something and a moment later his fingers felt a head and a shoulder.

  "Go away," a voice mumbled in Latin.

  Corbulo took a deep breath, stooped, found Marcus's armpits and heaved the young man up onto his feet. Marcus's head lolled from side to side and Corbulo had to hold him up to prevent him from falling over. His son was in a bad state. He couldn't see his face but the stench of bad breath, sweat, shit and piss was overpowering. Without another word Corbulo stooped to one knee and threw the young man head first over his shoulder. Then slowly he forced himself up. Marcus weighed less than he had expected. Corbulo blushed, no wonder, he must have been inside this well for a very long time. The boy was a sack of bones. Carefully Corbulo picked his way passed the unconscious girl. On his back Marcus groaned and muttered something he didn't catch. Then they were outside in the cool night air. Corbulo moved up the steps, pausing now and then to listen but all was quiet.

  "Can you walk Marcus? Can you walk, I need to know," he whispered urgently.

  There was another unintelligible groan from over his back. "Where are you taking me?" Marcus muttered.

  "It's me Marcus, your father," Corbulo whispered, "I have come to rescue you. We're going home but you must be quiet. We are in danger."

  The body on his back was silent. Corbulo blew the air from his cheeks and began to move up the gentle slope between the houses, towards the cliff edge. If his son could not walk they were both in trouble. He couldn't carry him on his back forever. If Marcus could hardly stand how was he going to get him down the cliff face and into the sea? He snatched a glance at the sky. He still had some time before it grew light. Like a ghost he flitted in between the silent round houses moving as fast as he could. Then after what seemed an age he saw the sea in the pale moon light. It looked impossibly far away. He crouched by the edge of the cliff, panting slightly and lowered Marcus onto the grass. In the faint light he caught sight of a un kept beard and a shrunken face. The boy had his eyes open and was staring up at him. Corbulo tried to smile. He had found him! He had found his son.

  "We're going over the cliff face and down towards the sea," he whispered fiercely as he tied the piece of rope he'd taken from the dead dog, around Marcus's waist. "You are going to have to climb down. It's not too hard but its dark and you will need to concentrate. I will be holding the rope but it's too short to lower you all the way. Can you do it?"

  Corbulo heard his heart beating in his chest as Marcus blinked and stared up at him will dull eyes.

  "Damn it soldier," Corbulo whispered fiercely with sudden authority in his voice, "Get your arse down that cliff and don't you dare fall off. That is an order, now move it and stop pussy footing around, you spineless whelp!"

  Then before Marcus could reply Corbulo was dragging him to the edge.

  Marcus yelped. Then he was over the edge and Corbulo felt the rope tighten. He turned, gave the sleeping fort a final glance and swung his legs over the side and began to climb down after his son.

  The sound of the waves crashing onto the rocks got louder and to Corbulo it was the best noise he'd heard in a very long time. When at last he felt the rope slacken he looked down and caught a glimpse of a dark shape sitting on a boulder with his legs drawn up close together. Corbulo slithered down the last few feet. Then he crouched beside Marcus.

  "You came back for me, why?" Marcus said quietly.

  "Ah, you know," Corbulo was suddenly glad that the dark hid his face, "I heard you were missing. I couldn't just leave you here to die. I am your father. Isn't that what father's are supposed to do?"

  In the darkness he heard his son laughing softly.

  "Come, we can't stay here," Corbulo whispered, suddenly glad to have something to do, "we must get as far away from this place as we can before they discover you are gone. We are going into the sea. Hold on to the rocks and follow me."

  He slipped from the boulder and into the sea and a moment later he heard Marcus follow him in. The sea water was cold and now and then a wave swamped him so that after a while he was utterly soaked and bedraggled. When at last he waded through the surf onto the flat beach Corbulo was exhausted. Marcus staggered after him and collapsed onto the beach, his breath coming in unhealthy sounding gasps.

  For a while the two of them in the sand too exhausted to continue. Then at last Corbulo rose and dragged Marcus to his feet.

  "I can walk," the young man muttered, "But my leg hurts. I am wounded. Do you have any food? I haven't eaten in two days."

  Corbulo sighed. He had nothing to give his son. "Come on," he said slipping his hand around the young man's waist and pushing him forwards, "let's go. I will cook you a lovely rabbit stew tonight."

  "Where are we going?" Marcus muttered as he undid the rope and dropped it into the sand.

  Corbulo let go of his son and glance
d up at the stars. Then he looked back at the fort on the headland. For a moment he didn't answer.

  "They will expect us to head for the nearest Roman fort," he muttered, "Cawdor is at least a day and half away if you were fit and healthy, which you are not. We would never make it and Balnageith is even further away. No," Corbulo said with a firm nod, "We will go west. They won't expect that."

  "West, west," Marcus slowly shook his head, "What is there in the west?"

  "Agricola told me once," Corbulo said scratching his chin, "that the land west of the great river valley is unknown to us. Well, we are going to be the first Romans to go there. Once beyond the river we will turn south and try and find our way to one of our outposts."

  "But that means crossing the highlands," Marcus muttered as the two of them started off along the flat shoreline. "Those hills are crawling with hostile war bands."

  "Yes, I know, so let's get moving," Corbulo grunted.

  For a while the two of them trudged on in silence. Marcus kept up as best as he could but he was limping heavily. The shore was easy to follow and as long as they kept close to it Corbulo knew they were heading in the right direction.

  Marcus suddenly took a deep breath and staggered as if someone had landed a punch. Corbulo grabbed his arm and steadied him.

  "I haven't spoken with anyone in a very long time," he gasped. "They brought me a little food each day but no one talked to me. Then a few days ago they imprisoned a girl with me. You have no idea how good it was to talk to another person. What happened to her? Did you kill her?"

  "I hit her," Corbulo replied, "but she was alive when I left her."

  Marcus was quiet for a while. Then at last he spoke.

  "Some things don't ever change."

  "Sometimes they do," Corbulo shot back.

  "You are an arsehole."

  "I know," Corbulo muttered, "I know."