by Nick Brown
‘What news is that?’
‘Five legions fought a huge battle near Cavillonum yesterday. Two of theirs, three of ours – under the emperor himself. They say Tetricus was captured and that the Army of the Rhine has surrendered. Should just be a cleaning up job now.’
Cassius could find no reply. Aurelian, the emperor he had sworn an oath to and served for four years, had banished his last enemy. More incredibly still, Cassius and his allies had played some small part in it.
He was aware of the others coming to a halt behind him. ‘And is all well here?’
‘Yes, sir. Units of the Tenth crossed at Valentia and Nemausus yesterday. Once the whole legion is across, they’ll continue west then eventually wheel north. We should have Gaul wrapped up in a few weeks, I reckon. Who are you with, sir?’
Cassius was set to share the good news with the others when Simo hailed him. He turned his horse.
Simo and Amarante were staring at Indavara, who had dismounted and was now walking towards the archers. He was not the only one moving: an auxiliary holding a bow was striding towards him. The pair met upon the road.
Cassius trotted his horse over to observe. The auxiliary was a man of about thirty; broad-chested like all archers, curly-haired with an intense expression upon his face.
‘Is this him?’ asked Cassius.
Indavara took a step towards the archer. ‘I think I know you. Do you know me?’
‘I know you,’ said the auxiliary in passable Latin. ‘I fought with you.’
A smile spread across the bodyguard’s face. ‘I … I don’t remember your name.’
‘I am Nivisar. You are Indavara.’
The auxiliary had to go and ask his officer if he could be excused. A rather dazed Indavara seemed incapable of doing much, so Cassius passed his horse onto Simo and had him tether the mounts. He suggested that Simo and Amarante have a rest in the way-station. This would be difficult for Indavara; he didn’t need an audience.
‘You all right?’
The bodyguard managed a nod but was drawing in deep breaths, eyes unblinking.
‘Come, let’s have a seat.’
Several newly-cut logs had been lined up on the verge and here they sat, facing back down the road they’d just ridden along.
When Nivisar returned, he sat in front of Indavara and again the two locked eyes.
He said something in a language that – to Cassius – sounded like a variation of the Gaulish Simo used.
Indavara frowned.
‘Can we stick with Latin?’ suggested Cassius.
‘Yes,’ said Nivisar. ‘But mine not good.’ He reached out and tapped Indavara on the leg. ‘Thought you were dead. Not many lived.’
Cassius said, ‘Please tell us what happened. Indavara has problems with his memory.’
‘You know Segusini?’
Cassius and Indavara shook their heads.
‘My tribe. Some of them too.’ Nivisar gestured at the archers then pointed at Indavara. ‘Your tribe. I auxiliary for five years. Before that I live north of Segustero – capital of Segusini land. Forest place. Many small villages but we all Segusini. North of us, in mountains – Medulli.’
‘Them I have heard of,’ said Cassius. ‘Another tribe.’
‘Some problems over time,’ said Nivisar. ‘There was argument. Medulli … er … don’t know name … place to take metal from ground.’
‘Mine,’ said Cassius.
‘Yes, Medulli mine. For copper. Near river. Bad for our water. Bad for Segusini. Leaders tried but no peace.’
‘You went to war,’ said Cassius.
Nivisar tapped Indavara’s leg again. ‘I not know you but we meet before battle. Men from six villages. Everyone know you – say you’re strong. Young but very good fighter. Good with bow and axe.’
‘Sounds about right,’ remarked Cassius.
‘We wait for more men then go north. But it Medulli land. They know better. Attacked. Trap us between river and rocks. They have more men. I close to you. I saw …’
‘Do you know where I come from?’ said Indavara suddenly. ‘Which village?’
‘Not mine – so one of five others.’
‘They’re close together?’ asked Cassius.
‘Yes. You can walk to all in one day.’
Indavara’s face was rigid with shock. ‘How far?’
‘It’s east from Valentia, good road to Segustero, then south. Ten miles until you reach villages. They are where Durentio river turns east. Eight or nine days from here.’
Indavara looked at the road.
‘You were telling us about the battle,’ prompted Cassius.
‘Bad fight,’ continued Nivisar. ‘I hurt.’ He turned over his left forearm and showed them a nasty scar. ‘Got away. We run. Come back next day. Wounded gone. Slavers. Always come when tribes fight. Take men to coast – Massilia or Narbo.’
‘And from there to Pietas Julia,’ added Cassius. ‘By all the gods.’ He gripped Indavara’s shoulder: it was so much to take in, he couldn’t imagine how the poor sod was feeling.
‘You said you saw something?’ asked Indavara, his voice surprisingly calm. ‘The battle.’
‘I was close.’ Nivisar looked away for a moment, his brow furrowing. ‘Saw … you and father and brother.’
‘My father and brother.’
‘Yes. Met them at camp. All had to fight.’ Nivisar took a breath. ‘Medulli kill your father. You and brother keep fighting. Many Medulli. Brother died too. You keep fighting. You still fighting when I go.’
‘What do you think, sir?’
‘Let’s just give him some time.’
After hearing Nivisar describe the fate of his father and brother, Indavara had simply stood and walked away along the side of the road. Cassius watched until he slumped down in the grass.
He continued to question Nivisar – and memorised the names of the five villages – but there was little more to be learned. The auxiliary had his own family in Narbo and seldom visited the Segustero area now. He knew of no one else living who might be connected to Indavara.
Cassius asked if he might come as their guide but Nivisar refused to even ask his superior; all leave had been cancelled weeks earlier and his unit of archers might be redeployed at any time. Nivisar had now returned to the archers but was standing alone, apparently lost in thought.
Cassius and Simo were close to where the horses were tethered.
‘I sometimes wonder if his bad fortune will ever end.’
‘This is still good news though, sir, surely?’
‘It gives us somewhere to go, yes. But what if we find his mother’s dead too? What if there’s no one there for him?’
‘These villages are made up of extended families, sir. There will be people who’ll remember him, I’m sure of it.’
‘Gods, I hope so. No one could deserve a happy turn of events more than him.’
A shout went up from the archers. It seemed someone had landed a good shot.
Cassius continued: ‘If we find no home for him, I’m going to take him back to Ravenna with me.’
‘That might be for the best, sir.’
Cassius wafted away a fly. ‘Amarante?’
‘She’s talking to the innkeeper’s wife.’
‘Right.’
‘Sir, now might not be the moment but-’ Simo stopped in mid-sentence.
‘What is it?’
Cassius then saw what had taken Simo’s attention: Indavara was walking towards them, one hand on the eagle-head sword. He didn’t break stride but continued to his horse and mounted up.
‘We going?’
‘Yes,’ said Cassius. ‘We’re going.’
XXVI
News of Tetricus’s defeat moved ahead of them. Apparently, pockets of resistance remained, and there was talk of loyal units and allies fighting on in Belgica and the German provinces. Most within Narbonensis didn’t seem overly concerned about the usurper’s demise. As Gaul and the other areas moved back into the orbit of Rome, it was li
kely that stability and wealth would increase. Aurelian was now into the fourth year of his rule and his reputation as the most successful emperor for decades was firmly established.
After the initial relief of their escape, Cassius found that a strange atmosphere settled upon his party; and for once he was the least preoccupied. Indavara was generally taciturn by nature and could hardly be blamed for wanting to reach their destination as soon as possible. Simo was his usual polite self but his cheeriness was absent, which Cassius ascribed in part to the loss of Patch. As for Amarante, she asked many questions of Cassius and Simo, and seemed very curious about the war, Aurelian and Rome. As if her other gifts weren’t sufficient, Cassius now discovered that she also possessed a keen mind. Though her vocabulary and knowledge were limited by her upbringing and class, she clearly wished to grasp the great issues of the time.
Cassius often found himself riding next to her and they spoke about a great many things, including his travels and adventures. He chose his questions to her carefully but found she was happy to talk about most subjects, if not her own experiences. By the fourth day, when they reached the city of Valentia, he realised he was utterly besotted. Unusually, he did not entertain thoughts of bedding her, though her beauty continued to amaze him. In fact, he found himself listing her attributes and wondering if he should thank the gods for placing him in the path of this lovely, courageous, intelligent young woman. Other than a tendency towards bluntness, he was yet to note a significant flaw.
The first moment of awkwardness came on the morning of the sixth day, as they turned off the Avennio road, now bound for Segustero. Ahead lay the peaks of the Maritime Alps, on this day obscured by low grey cloud. Light rain had fallen since dawn, and all four riders wore cloaks. Cassius had given Amarante some money for she and Simo to buy her some clothes.
She had picked up riding predictably swiftly and the pair were now side by side, ten yards behind the others. As they passed a large estate divided by low stone walls, Amarante drew back her hood and turned to Cassius.
‘So Indavara’s not really a soldier?’
‘It’s complicated. He’s taken the oath to Rome but he’s never been a legionary.’
‘But you have?’
‘No. I was commissioned as an officer. It’s unusual but my father is a man of some influence.’
‘Why? Because it’s safer to be an officer?’
‘Well, yes.’ Cassius wanted to be truthful but this seemed an embarrassing admission.
‘Did you always want to be in the army?’
Again, he did not wish to lie. ‘No. It was my father’s decision. He wasn’t very happy with the … direction I was taking. I wanted to be an orator, actually.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Someone trained in the art of speaking. It’s very helpful for a career in politics or the law.’
‘You do speak nicely.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
‘Not so good at fighting though?’
‘Er …’
‘I don’t mean you’re not brave, Cassius.’ Amarante smiled. ‘I know you are. But that’s why you have Indavara. Because he’s good at fighting.’
‘He’s better than good. But, yes, you’re right.’
‘And Simo to cook your food and patch you up.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘He must know you very well.’
‘Yes, I think he does.’
Simo was alone in the bedroom. Master Cassius and Indavara had gone down to the parlour for a drink before dinner. Simo had several saddlebags to unpack but now found another use for this rare moment of solitude. Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out his bronze cross and gazed down at it.
He needed guidance now. Some believers claimed that they talked directly to Christ. Simo had never heard a specific answer to his prayers but when he explained his situation and his feelings, his mind always seemed clearer. And Christ heard him; of that he was sure.
Before he could kneel to pray, there was a knock on the open door and Amarante walked in.
‘Hello, Simo.’
‘Hello, miss.’ They had spent quite a lot of time together and Simo liked the young woman already. She seemed to lurch between periods of silence and intense conversation and could be disarmingly direct. But he could not help admire her.
He also had no doubt that his master was utterly smitten.
‘They’ve gone downstairs, haven’t they?’
‘Yes,’ said Simo. He, Cassius and Indavara were sharing a room; Amarante’s was opposite.
As a pair of chattering women passed outside, she pushed the door to. ‘Can I speak to you about something?’
‘Of course.’ Simo gestured to the nearest bed and they sat there together.‘What is it, miss?’
‘Cassius. Will you tell me the truth about him?’
Simo always endeavoured to tell the truth but his first loyalty was to his master. He thought this might be a difficult conversation.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Is he a good man?’
‘Well … yes, of course.’
‘Why did you hesitate?’
‘I don’t think I did.’
Amarante looked at him and Simo found himself unable to form a coherent reply. Her pale blue eyes were quite arresting and he felt somehow compelled to be honest. He shifted his gaze to the floor.
‘When I first met Master Cassius, he was nineteen. I don’t think anyone could claim to be entirely mature at that age. He has changed a since then; been through a great deal. He is a man of considerable gifts.’
‘What’s he like with women?’
Simo didn’t know how to answer. He did not – could not – approve of some of his master’s conduct. Master Cassius often talked about women in the crudest terms and had in the past given little thought to their wellbeing. He’d conducted several affairs and even spent time with tavern girls. But Simo couldn’t betray him.
‘He is a young man. No different to most Roman officers.’
‘Have there been many?’
‘A few. But no chance at anything permanent. We’ve almost always been on the move. That’s army life. I suppose things could be very different now.’
‘He told me his family are wealthy. Very respectable.’
‘Master Cassius’s father is a man of considerable standing. He can trace his roots back to the very first years of Rome. His family are well-known in Ravenna and the capital.’
Amarante ran a finger along her bottom lip. ‘They would not … approve of someone like me.’
Simo wanted to reassure her: ‘You needn’t worry yourself about such things at the moment. You two haven’t known each other very long. It might be best to take your time. Better for you both.’
‘You didn’t really answer me, Simo. I asked you because I can see you’re a kind, fair person. I’ll trust what you tell me. I’ve met men like Cassius before – rich, handsome, confident. Most of them turned out to be demons. He seems very different … but I don’t know. Is he a good man?’
Simo gave thought to his reply. ‘He tries, as we all must. But not one of us can claim to be entirely good – free from sin. Master Cassius is not perfect. But is he a good man? Yes, I can honestly say that he is.’
‘Would he look after me? Would he stay with me?’
‘We cannot know the future, Amarante. Only you know how you feel. These decisions are yours.’
Indavara finished his vegetable soup and mopped the bowl with a hunk of bread.
‘Not bad.’
Cassius looked around the parlour, which they were sharing with a party of Roman soldiers, a group of merchants and a smattering of lone travellers. The inn was mediocre: the floor dusty, the furnishings in varying states of disrepair. The tapestry hanging from one wall looked more like an aged carpet, the images faded and indistinct.
‘Not quite The Mercury’s Watch but it’ll do.’ Cassius had refused the offer of soup and was wondering why Simo and Amarante hadn’t joined t
hem.
‘Not bad, was she – that Melissa?’ said Indavara. ‘But no Amarante.’
‘No comment.’
Indavara scratched his mutilated left ear. ‘Not often I see you nervous around a woman.’
‘I’m not nervous. Anyway, you’ve barely spoken a word to her.’
‘Other things on my mind.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘No. That’s why I haven’t.’ Indavara picked something out of his teeth and stretched his shoulders. He then pushed his bowl aside and leant onto the table. ‘There was a girl like that in Pietas Julia. She came to meet the gladiators.’
‘Just meet?’ asked Cassius with a smirk.
‘That time, yes.’
‘How was she like Amarante?’
‘Beautiful,’ said Indavara. ‘But more than that. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. Must be difficult. All the attention.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
‘You wouldn’t mind though,’ added Indavara. ‘You like attention.’
‘You know what? I think I prefer it when you’re moody and sullen.’
They both smiled.
Nothing was said for a while. Then Indavara broke the silence. ‘It sounds as if she’s been treated very badly.’
‘I know,’ said Cassius.
‘It reminds me of poor Mahalie back in Berytus. What her master and mistress did to her …’
‘Well we got her out of there. It’s a shame the two of you never got a chance to get to know each other.’
Indavara shook his head and gazed up at the ceiling.
Cassius decided he should change the subject.‘I was thinking about Iovius today.’
Indavara nodded solemnly.
‘Him and the others,’ added Cassius. ‘They’ll never know. They’ll never know we won.’
‘Maybe they will. Maybe they’re looking down on us right now.’
Before Cassius could answer, a maid arrived to clear the bowls.
‘Chicken coming up. For four, yes?’
‘Er … yes,’ said Cassius. ‘If the other two ever come down.’
When the maid left, Indavara turned towards him, an intense look in his eyes. ‘The Kingdom. Simo believes in it. The Brethren too. What if it’s real? A place where you can be with your loved ones. Be happy.’