by V. M. Sang
Adelbehrt occasionally wandered around the boat, getting in the way of the sailors, most of whom cursed him. He knew they were curses, although he couldn’t understand them. Not all the sailors cursed though. One old man beckoned him over and let him help haul the ropes to raise more sails. Adelbehrt was thrilled doing this.
Eventually, after many hours aboard (Adelbehrt couldn’t really tell how long), a dark line appeared on the horizon. Adelbehrt thought he saw clouds at first, but Marcus, who had come back to stand by them, told him it was the coastline of their new home.
Slowly it crept toward them, until they could make out details. First, they saw the white cliffs Marcus had described and next, the green of the lush grass growing on the top. They made out the shapes of the two Pharos, one on each hill on either side of the river on which Dubris stood.
As the weather had now cleared, and the sun had not yet set, they negotiated the entrance to the docks with ease and soon drew alongside the wharf. The Dominus disembarked first and oversaw the unloading of the cargo.
Adelbehrt did not know the contents of most of the boxes and crates, but suspected some might contain clothes for sale, as well as new ones from Rome for his wife and children, and goods to replace those people had lost in the fire in Londinium. It looked as though the slaves were considered cargo along with everything else, as they were the last to leave the ship.
So, this is Britannia. Wide-eyed, the boy looked around as he descended the gangplank.
The town was small, built around the docks on the river. A few ships lay in the harbour, but none as large as the merchant ship that had brought them here. A few people walked around and some stopped to stare at the ship tied up at the wharf.
Adelbehrt took his sister’s hand as Marcus led them away from the ship towards what turned out to be an inn. Since the crossing took the best part of a day, the Dominus had decided to stay the night in Dubris before leaving the following morning.
They would take a road called Watling Street, Marcus told them. It went to Londinium and then across the country to the city of Deva in the north. The idea of building such a long road impressed Adelbehrt, even though he had no idea where Deva was. In the north of Britannia, Marcus told him when he asked, and that was a long way away.
The Dominus led them to a large inn in the small town. The elderly innkeeper knew him and greeted him warmly. The Dominus had a room to himself, of course, but the slaves, including the children, slept in the main room of the inn.
“I hate the Romans,” murmured Adelbehrt before he fell asleep, cuddling Avelina. “They crucified my father; they took my family away from me; they took my home from me; they took my friends from me;they put Odila in a brothel, and; they took my freedom from me.” This time he added, “They took my homeland away from me.”
With that, the boy fell asleep.
The next morning, the Dominus decided they must make an early start. After breaking their fast on some bread and a bit of cheese, the children climbed onto one of the wagons with the goods the Dominus had brought with him to trade, and the little group of travellers set off along the road towards Londinium.
The road ran absolutely straight, just like those in Gaul. It had been an ancient trackway used for millennia by the native Britons, but when the Romans came, they paved it for their own use. Adelbehrt could not help but marvel at how the Romans had built the roads. He thought it a great improvement on the tracks in the land of his birth; they became muddy in times of rain and sometimes almost impassable, even though they had been constructed with oak timber.
The Dominus led them through a rolling countryside full of lush green, forested hills. Occasionally, small farms and villages appeared along the road. In one area, Marcus told him, they made iron. The men chopped down the trees and used the resulting logs to heat kilns, where they then smelted iron ore.
“Britannia is the most important iron producing country in the empire, you know,” he told Adelbehrt.
The travellers continued to follow the road, stopping at inns along the way, as far as the town of Durovernum. Here they stayed for a few days. The Dominus wanted to trade some of his goods in this town, which was larger than the other settlements they had passed. The children grew tired with all of the travelling, and Avelina had started to become fractious. She had learned a bit of Latin as they had progressed and she made use of the words she had learned to complain to Marcus that she wanted to stop travelling and go home.
“Avelina, you won't be able to go home.” Marcus knelt down beside the little girl. “You now belong to the Dominus. You will live in his home and wait on his daughter.”
“I want to go home to Mama.” She broke down in tears and turned to Adelbehrt. “You told me we’d go back to Mama. That we’ll escape and go home.”
Marcus gently dried her eyes and spoke quietly. “Avelina, my dear, you are a gift for the Dominus’ daughter. She’s about your age and you’ll be a companion to her. You’ll like her, I’m sure. She’ll teach you some new games that Roman children play.”
Avelina stopped sniffling as she looked up at Marcus. “Will she like me?” she asked shyly, speaking in her own tongue.
“Of course she will. You’re a very nice little girl. However, you must speak Latin. The Dominus’ daughter doesn’t understand your language.”
“Yes, I … try,” the young child stumbled in her new language.
After a couple of days, the Dominus declared he had done all the business he had wanted to in Durovernum, and they set off once again towards Londinium. It was with some trepidation on the part of Adelbehrt, as he knew they were getting close to what would be their eventual home, probably for the rest of their lives, unless they were sold again, of course. That was always a possibility.
3
Londinium—it had only been founded twenty-seven years previously, but already it had become an important town. The Romans built the only bridge across the river, which the merchant and his wagons were presently crossing.
Marcus pointed out to Adelbehrt the building work on the riverbank. “They’re building wharves and jetties there.” He spoke in Latin to them more and more, so they would be forced to learn quickly.
“Wharves, jetties?” queried Adelbehrt, scanning the riverbank.
“Places for ships to moor and for them to unload their cargo.”
The boy nodded. “They’ll be able to bring the Dominus’ goods right into the town then, so there will be no need for the long trip from Dubris over the land.”
“Quite right.” The older man smiled kindly. “Well done, lad.”
Adelbehrt felt quite proud at the praise from the man who had taken such an interest in them since their purchase by the Dominus.
He watched carefully to see where they went. To the left, Adelbehrt could see a large stone building. He enquired what it was.
“That’s the governor’s palace,” Marcus told him, “He has only been governor since last year. His name is Bolanus, I believe. We don’t really need to know such things as slaves though. Politics is no concern of ours. We just do as our masters ask, no questions.”
Adelbehrt frowned at this. Obey without question? What if the Dominus asked him to do something wrong? Must he obey even then? What would happen if he obeyed and got into trouble for it? Like stealing something, for example. Would his innocence be accepted if his master had commanded it?
They proceeded through the town until they reached a large stone house fronting the street. Adelbehrt looked around and noticed that many stone houses comprised this street. It surprised him, He had not seen so many stone houses in his life.
The building to which the Dominus turned had a portico in the centre of the wall, with a covered roof supported by two columns. On either side of the entrance, he noticed two windows. Then the Dominus dismounted his horse, handed the reins to Paulus, and walked towards the portico.
Adelbehrt saw a passageway on the left of the building, leading round the back. The wagons trundled towards this pa
ssageway.
“Servants and slaves are not allowed to use the portico,” Marcus murmured as they travelled along the passageway towards a yard at the back.
Here, slaves released the oxen from their traces. More slaves took the amphorae of wine and olive oil that had accompanied the children for their entire journey and put them into storage sheds at the side of the yard, and then proceeded to unload the other goods.
Marcus lifted Avelina from the wagon and Adelbehrt jumped down.
“Where do we go now?” asked the boy, his curiosity overcoming any sense of anxiety at being in a new place. He stared around the courtyard.
“We go inside. Come on. Follow me.” Marcus led them to the side of the house and in through a door. They entered a large paved open space. It had a large pool with a fountain in the centre, surrounded by pillars. The fountain was not flowing now as the family had gone to the country. Plants and small bushes grew in pots scattered around the area, and the boy saw stone benches for people to sit. Marcus told them this area, the open courtyard within the house, was called the peristylium.
Rooms opened out onto the peristylium. Some, Marcus explained, were bedrooms, but two were dining rooms and one a kitchen.
“What are we going to eat?” Avelina asked, speaking in her own language. She peered towards the kitchen. “There’s no one in the kitchen to cook.”
“Don’t worry, little one,” replied the older slave. “There are plenty of shops in the town where we can buy something to eat. I’ll take you later and we can get food.”
“But you’re a slave, Marcus,” Adelbehrt pointed out. “How can you buy food? What can you use for money? And how can you just go out by yourself?”
Marcus laughed heartily. “Oh, slaves can have money. Visitors to the house often give us tips if we please them. Many slaves save up their money in order to buy their freedom, but it takes a great many years to do so. Others spend it on themselves, and some even manage to save enough to buy slaves of their own.”
“That seems odd. Slaves owning slaves,” the boy mused aloud, frowning. “Don’t slaves feel bad about others losing their freedom to serve them?”
“Some folk are born into slavery and know nothing else. Both my parents were slaves, you know. They came from near where you were captured; that’s how I know something of your language. I was born here and as I’m the son of slaves, I too am a slave. I have nowhere else to go except here.” The man paused and smiled at Adelbehrt. “The Dominus is a good master. He seldom beats us and we’re fed well too. Not all slaves are. Many slaves are treated worse than animals, and are beaten mercilessly for the slightest error. Here, in this house, we’re better off than many free men. Look around when you’re out in the town and you’ll see what I mean.”
As Marcus said this, the Dominus strolled through a passageway that led from the peristylium to the rest of the house. “There you are, Marcus. I need you to come and help me with these blasted accounts. We sold quite a lot of stuff in Durovernum and I need to get the money sorted out quickly.”
Adelbehrt's eyebrows rose when he heard this—at what he thought the Dominus had said. He was unsure he understood correctly. Surely, a man of the Dominus' standing, a rich merchant at that, would not want a mere slave seeing to his financial affairs? Adelbehrt decided to ask Marcus later.
“Get Paulus to look after the children for a while until it’s time for the evening meal,” the Dominus told Marcus. “He can get them settled in a bedroom.”
The man walked out of the garden and back to the section of the dwelling the children had not yet seen. Marcus hurried to find Paulus.
Paulus came across the peristylium, somewhat reluctantly. He had not been very communicative on the journey. Adelbehrt always felt uncomfortable around the man. He was a tall fellow with unruly brown hair and light-blue eyes. His skin was pockmarked from a childhood illness and a large nose seemed to take up half his face.
Being in his early thirties, he was younger by some years than Marcus, but to Adelbehrt they were both quite old. The boy didn’t much like him, although he had no reason for this feeling. He decided he should try to engage in some kind of communication with him as they were both slaves in the same household.
Paulus spoke gruffly to the children. “I’ve to show you where you’ll sleep while we’re here.” He grunted. “I suppose this room will do. No one else is using it.” He pointed to the room to the right of the entrance. “Of course, when we move back here in the winter, the Domina will probably give you other rooms. That’s up to her.”
“I ask Marcus why slaves not run when they allowed to come and go as they want.” Adelbehrt struggled with his Latin. “He say it sometimes because was all slave knew, when born to slave parents. He say sometimes, like us, slaves better off than some not-slaves. I think it better to live free than in captivity, no?”
“Ha!” Paulus replied. “You’re young and new to being a slave. Escaped slaves who are re-captured—and they usually are—are branded on their foreheads with the letter F, for fugitive.”
“What branding?” Avelina asked. She had begun to respond to her surroundings and people in the last few days. Adelbehrt felt pleased and hoped her recovery would continue.
“They press a red hot iron in the shape of the letter to your head and it leaves a permanent mark, so you’re always known as a fugitive,” came the reply. He looked almost pleased at the discomfort shown by the children.
“It hurt?” the little girl asked in halting Latin.
“Yes, very much, but it does tend to put slaves off from running away.”
Adelbehrt then asked, “But what if slave not caught? You say ‘almost always caught.’”
The older man laughed. “They’ll be fugitives for the rest of their lives. The Romans never give up. When they’re caught, they might be made to wear a collar riveted round their necks that they can’t take off. It’d be most uncomfortable and would rub your neck raw, I’m sure.” He looked at Adelbehrt sharply. “You aren’t thinking of running away, are you? You wouldn’t stand a chance, being only a child, and especially with your unusual hair colour. You’d be spotted immediately.”
“No,” Adelbehrt lied. “Where I go? No can get home over sea.”
When he said that about not getting across the sea, Avelina wailed. “But you said we’d go back to Mamma!’” She spoke in their own language and Paulus did not understand.
Adelbehrt put his arm around her and held her close to comfort her. He worried gravely about his little sister. She was still frightened, even if she did seem to be making some recovery.
Paulus ordered them sharply to speak in Latin so he could understand, then sat down on one of the benches in the garden and watched them closely, as though expecting them to make a break for freedom there and then.
No one said much for the rest of the afternoon. It felt warmer than it had the day they crossed the Oceanus Britannicus and they found it quite pleasant sitting there.
Adelbehrt whiled away the time by looking around. Marble flagstones lined the ground and the fountain was shaped like a fish. When on, it would spout water from its mouth into the pond beneath, which had a raised wall surrounding it.
Adelbehrt strolled over to it and sat on the edge, trailing his hand in the water. His eyes stung with the tears he would not allow to fall. They were now such a long way from their home that he could see no way of them ever returning. They would have to speak Latin all the time, and would probably forget their native tongue, and they would never see their family again.
Then his anger reasserted itself and his hatred of the Romans renewed. They were lucky to have found a good master, but that did not overcome his anger at losing his freedom and the brutal killing of his father. He determined to escape, no matter how long it took. He would risk the branding and being a fugitive for the rest of his life. He would also find some way to fight the Romans. There must be people in Britannia who hated the Romans as much as he did. The Romans had come to this country and
taken it over. Surely, the native people would be angry about that? He would find them and join them, even if it meant his life.
The day had started to cool when Marcus came back and relieved Paulus, who had said little to them after the first conversation. They left the house through the door where they entered, and went up the passageway between the houses.
As soon as they reached the street, Marcus took hold of Avelina’s hand and told Adelbehrt to be sure to stay close. People hurried past in all directions, and the boy understood why Marcus had told him not to stray. He could easily get lost in the bustling crowds.
Marcus led them towards some stalls where he saw people gathering. Here, the older slave bought food for them all. He handed them a kind of flattened bread with some cheese and herbs on it. The children ate with gusto and then drank the watered wine he handed them.
“How long will we stay in Londinium?” Adelbehrt asked as he munched his bread.
“That depends on how the Dominus’ business goes. He’ll want to sell as much of the wine and olive oil as he can before he goes to the country, as well as the other goods he’s brought back, but I don’t expect it’ll be more than three or four days. The people in Londinium are anxious for such luxury goods. They can’t grow olives here, and the grapes don’t do very well either, so these things must be imported.”
They strolled back to the domus, and when they arrived, Avelina’s eyes drooped, so Marcus suggested they go to bed.
Every night, Adelbehrt spoke to Avelina in their own language, hoping she would not forget it. He told her tales of their mother and her love for her children, and reminded the little girl they had a baby brother somewhere across the Oceanus Britannicus. When Avelina fell asleep, Adelbehrt chanted his litany of hate.
4
The children spent the next few days wondering what was going to happen and when they would go to the villa. On the fifth day, the Dominus declared he had finished his trading and they should get ready to set off for the country.