Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  “Listen, Divico.” Lucius looked the young man squarely in the face. “I accept that you don’t like Romans, but that doesn’t affect Roman justice. We’ll find out who killed Belinus, and who’s been harassing you here, and they’ll be stopped. It may be the Gauls Belinus spoke about. That seems to me the most likely. But it may not, and it doesn’t matter, because we’ll catch them and punish them. You have my word on that. Now in return, will you give me all the help you can? We’ll have a much better chance if we work together on this.”

  Divico took a step back, like a scared colt. “I’ll not become one of your paid spies.”

  Lucius laughed. “I’m not asking you to. I only want men who work for me willingly. What I mean is this: will you tell us all you can about what’s been going on here? Will you tell us if you have more trouble in the future?”

  He hesitated a long time, but finally said, “Aye, all right.”

  “Will you shake hands on it? We may not be friends, but can we at least be allies, until this trouble is over?” Lucius held out his hand.

  There was another long hesitation before Divico answered. “I agree.”

  Chapter VII

  We walked back to where Esico still leaned on the log-pile. Illiana had gone, into the house presumably.

  “Esico,” Lucius said, “Divico has agreed to let us try and help. Will you agree too?”

  “I will. We’ve tried to manage, but we can’t do it no more.”

  “Then first of all, let’s get the facts clear. The attack on Belinus, where and when exactly did it happen? Were either of you with him?”

  They both shook their heads, and Divico said, “Day before yesterday it was, in the afternoon. I was cutting wood near the house. Belinus went to check on the sheep. They’re about a mile east of here, that’s our best pasture. The ewes are lambing now, or have just got new lambs. You need to keep a close eye.”

  “Have you a shepherd with them?” I asked.

  “Oh aye, Cattos is our shepherd—that’s Belinus’ adopted son. But he’s a lazy little tyke, inclined to have a nap in the sun or go off bird’s-nesting when he should be watching the flock. Anyhow just before sunset Cattos comes running to the farm saying they’ve been attacked, and Belinus is hurt bad, mebbe dead. I ride straight over, and we find him on the ground, knocked senseless, blood all over him. And the sheep scattered to the four winds. So I fetched a cart and brought him home. Cattos and the dogs rounded the flock up.”

  Lucius’ expression was grim. “Did he wake up enough to talk? Did he tell you about the attack?”

  “Yes, after a bit. Between him and Cattos we got the full story.”

  “How many men?”

  “Three. Strangers, long hair and beards, and weather-beaten looking. Spoke like foreigners. Gauls, they thought.”

  “Belinus told me that the men intended to kill him, but some travellers on the highway scared them off.”

  Divico scowled. “That’s right. We thought he’d had a lucky escape. Only now…well, anyhow, he was in a bad way, his ribs bashed in and his leg cut, but he said he’d be all right if he just rested up a while. Illiana tried to watch over him through the night, but what with the baby and everything, well, it was too much for her. By morning he was worse, much worse, hot and feverish, talking nonsense, and his leg was still bleeding. So I asked one of the neighbours to take him down to your Greek doctor at Oak Bridges. I couldn’t go myself, in case of more trouble here.”

  “Where’s the shepherd boy now?” Lucius asked Divico. “Could we talk to him?”

  “With the sheep still. About a mile along the road, like I said.”

  “He’s on his own?”

  Divico returned Lucius’ sharp look. “Of course he’s on his own. I can’t spare an extra hand for shepherding, especially now.”

  “That’s not what he means, Divico.” Esico looked at Lucius. “You think Cattos may be in danger, don’t you?”

  “I’m afraid it’s possible. If the attackers realise that Belinus is dead, so the lad is the only person who could recognise them again, they may come back for him.”

  Divico’s expression was close to panic. “By the Dagda, I never thought of that. I ought to go after him, make sure he’s come to no harm. But how can I? I can’t leave my sister, with things as they are.”

  “Would you like us to check up on the boy?” I asked. “It’s on our way. We can make sure he’s all right, and let you know if he needs help.” I felt pleased that here at last was something practical we could do. “And when we find him, we can ask him about the attack. He might remember something more, something that would help us.”

  Divico smiled for the first time. “I’d appreciate it, yes. Thank you. I’ll give you a dagger to take for him, for a bit of extra protection like. When you find him, tell him I say he’s to give you whatever help he can. And tell him be careful. I’ll send someone out to keep him company later, one of the neighbours’ lads. The gods know who, but I’ll find someone. You’re right, he shouldn’t be out there alone.”

  “Leave it to us,” Lucius said. “We’ll be off and look for him straight away.”

  So we left, and it was a relief to be away from them, even though we were both anxious about what we might find.

  The sheep pasture wasn’t far away. It lay a mile or so east of the farm, across a shallow valley and beyond a copse of beech trees. My heart sank as I saw it.

  The sheep and lambs weren’t peacefully grazing, but running in terror, scattering in all directions. In and out among them rode three horsemen, wheeling their mounts and yelling. Of the shepherd boy there was no sign.

  We paused and looked at each other. It was one of those times when we each knew what the other was thinking.

  “Shall we?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  We screamed “Charge!” at the tops of our voices, and kicked our horses into a flat-out gallop. The three men heard and saw us, and turned to race off towards the sea. We tore after them, yelling like soldiers in a battle. We sped across the open ground and I felt a sudden fire in my blood, as we pelted after our fleeing enemies.

  All too soon they disappeared over a rise in the ground, and again, we both had the same thought. We slowed our horses and turned back.

  The sheep were already calming down, but where was the boy? I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled “Cattos! Cattos, are you here?”

  Nothing happened.

  “Cattos, come out, it’s safe now. They’ve gone.”

  Still nothing. I felt cold inside. Had we come too late?

  “I want to find Cattos the shepherd,” I yelled. “We’re friends, and we’ve got a message from Divico!”

  Nobody answered or appeared, and I began to be really afraid. “Gods, don’t say they’ve killed the boy. Let’s both try.”

  We filled our lungs and bellowed “CATTOS!” fit to wake the dead.

  A small figure crawled slowly out from a clump of thorn bushes fifty paces ahead and to our left. He was about ten, still and white-faced, and he stood watching us cautiously, as if about to make a run for it.

  We walked our horses towards him and dismounted some distance away. I said softly, “Let me do the talking to start with.” I threw my reins to Lucius and moved slowly forward, holding out my hands so he could see I was unarmed.

  “Cattos, we’re friends of Belinus, and Divico and Illiana sent us to find out if you’re all right. I’m Aurelia, and that’s my brother Lucius.” I stopped, not wanting to crowd him, but I was close enough to see he’d been crying. “You’re safe now. Are you hurt? We know someone attacked Belinus here. It looks as if they’ve come back.”

  He lowered his eyes.” Aye, they’ve been back. They chased the sheep, and they killed Lightning.” He looked across the field towards another clump of bushes. Beneath it I could just make out the body of a dog, mostly white except where red blood soaked the hair on its left side. A second dog, with long brown hair, lay
by its mate, but when it saw Cattos, it crossed the pasture to stand protectively beside the boy. It stayed close to him as he set off to where the white dog lay. We followed behind, but stopped when the lad reached his dog and started to shake with sobs as he crouched down beside its body.

  “What happened?” I asked quietly.

  He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I saw them riding up from the sea. Same three as before. I hid in the bush, and called the dogs in, and Thunder came, but Lightning ran out and barked at them. One of them, the biggest one, yelled out, ‘We know you’re here, Cattos boy, so come out, we want to talk to you.’ And Lightning jumped at him and bit his arm, but he grabbed her and—and—he pointed at the livid stab-wound in the dog’s side. “I couldn’t stop them. They all laughed, and he shouted, ‘I don’t like dogs with big heads, boy. This one will look much better if it has fewer ears.’ The others cheered, and then…” He stopped, on the verge of crying again.

  “A brave dog.” I took a pace closer, and he pointed at the dog’s head. I realised that one of the pointed ears had been hacked right off. I heard Lucius swear and Cattos start to sob. I concentrated on not being sick.

  “After that they rode around to scatter the sheep, and he kept shouting, ‘Next time it’s your turn, Cattos boy. Or maybe we’ll go and say hello to little Illiana.’ They said horrible things about her…and that’s when you came along.” He looked up at us. “I feel so useless. I wanted to help Lightning, but I couldn’t, so I just had to stay hid. We both did.” He patted the brown dog’s head. “I wish I could have done something. Divico will be furious when he finds out.”

  “No he won’t, at least not with you,” I said quickly. “He’ll say you did right to hide, you couldn’t tackle three of them. He and Illiana need you alive and strong, making the right decision like a man, and that’s what you’ve done.”

  “Divico asked us to give you this dagger.” Lucius slowly drew it out and handed it to the boy. “He says he’ll send someone out to help you guard the sheep. You shouldn’t be on your own just now.”

  The boy brightened. “Perhaps Belinus can come when his leg’s better.”

  That was the hardest part of all, telling Cattos that Belinus was dead. We tried to be gentle, but there’s no easy way to convey news like that, and the boy hunched himself into a ball and cried. I wanted to shed a few tears myself, for the harsh fate that had taken Belinus’ life and left his family so vulnerable. The work Lucius does is necessary and right, I know that, but sometimes the cruelty of it breaks your heart.

  I sat down beside Cattos and put my arm round him, and after a while he raised his head. “Belinus was like my father. He took me in when I was found. My mother left me in a barn. He and Illiana. Poor Illiana, this’ll just about kill her, I reckon. She’s been so sad and sickly lately, and Belinus was the only one could make her smile. I’ll try my best, though.” He shook me off and stood up, squaring his thin shoulders. “I’m all right now. I must see to the sheep.”

  “It’s going to be hard for all of you, Cattos. But Lucius and I will do our level best to help you, and punish the men who killed Belinus. That’s a promise. We’ll have to be on our way soon, but first I think we could do with a drink of wine, How about it?”

  The boy’s eyes lighted up like torches. “Thank you. I’m starved. I’ve had nothing to eat since last night.”

  “Then you must have some honey cakes too.” I rummaged in my saddlebag and found the cakes. He fell on them greedily and ate four, by which time I’d poured him a beaker of wine. Lucius and I shared the other beaker.

  He drank the wine and coughed. “I’ve never had wine before.” He took another two cakes, and smiled. “Thanks. I wish our Illiana could make cakes like that.” His smile faded. “She hardly cooks at all now. She used to be so lively, you know, always busy, always smiling, but since the baby came she’s been real miserable. Does it always make women sad, having babies? You’d think they’d be happy, wouldn’t you?”

  “The gods alone know,” I said. “Lots of women are very happy. My sister Albia was as merry as a box of birds when she had her twins.”

  “Albia’s your sister? She and Candidus have been real good to us. They lent us a couple of men last harvest-time, and they said they’d help us when the bastards started threatening us. But Divico’s so set on being independent, not letting anyone else know our business. Especially Romans…Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  We smiled at him and he went on, “I wish I could get a message to Candidus and Albia about what’s happened now. They might be able to do something. But I’m afraid with Belinus gone, the raiders’ll get what they want anyway, which is to push us out. I don’t see how we can stay.”

  “We’re on our way to see Albia now,” I said. “Of course we’ll tell her and Candidus what’s happened. They’ll want to help.”

  Lucius said, “You think it’s the raiders from the sea who attacked Belinus, and are trying to take your farm away?”

  Cattos nodded. “Who else? Well, Divico thinks it’s that Ostorius Magnus, but it can’t be. The men who came after Belinus weren’t Romans. Gauls, I reckon. We get fishermen coming ashore here sometimes. They all have long hair.”

  “What did these three look like?” Lucius asked. “Can you describe them for us?”

  “I didn’t see much. And the Long-hairs all look the same, don’t they?”

  “Not really,” I prompted. “They’ve got different coloured hair and beards, for one thing. I didn’t get much of a look at the three we chased off today, but one was taller than the others with brown hair, very long, it was blowing about as he rode. The two shorter ones were darker, and one of them had a very skimpy beard. Now you’ve seen them twice, and you were closer to them than we were. Even if they scared you, your eyes will have seen a lot, and left a picture in your mind. Close your eyes now, and try to look at that picture again with your mind’s eye. Start with the one who did most of the talking. Was he the tall one?”

  He closed his eyes and screwed up his face, concentrating hard. “That’s right, and he was their leader. A head taller than the others, with thick long brown hair, and a white scar on his left cheek running up to where his ear would be, but that was hid by the long hair. It showed up because his face was so brown. They were all brown, like sailors are. The one with the skimpy beard, he had black curly hair, not as long as the others but still a foreign-looking style, and he was small and thin, and not a very good rider. I think he was only a lad. The other one had black hair too but hanging down straight.”

  “Good! That was an excellent picture. Now their voices. They’ll be in your mind too, if you listen inside yourself. You said you’ve met fishermen. Did these three speak in the same way?”

  “Let me think…yes, the leader did. The others just laughed and cheered, I couldn’t tell. Yes, the tall one was a Gaul, I’m sure.” He looked at me. “That’s a good trick you’ve showed me, finding the pictures and sounds in my mind. I’ll remember it.”

  “We always see and hear more than we think we have. My brother taught me that.” I grinned at Lucius. “We used to play games when we were little, looking at a street full of people and seeing how many we could remember. Mind you, Albia’s got a much better memory for faces than either of us. Once she sees someone, she never forgets.”

  We stayed with Cattos a little while longer, reluctant to leave him there entirely alone. We were relieved when a slightly-built dark lad appeared on a pony, followed by a big brindled dog. As they got nearer, we realised that it was in fact a slightly-built dark lass, looking very boyish in trousers and a short cloak, and carrying herself with a swagger.

  “Oh, gods,” Cattos muttered under his breath. “It’s Balca. She’s a kind of distant cousin of ours. She’s all right, but she bosses me about something awful.”

  “I know the feeling,” Lucius winked at him. “My sister orders me about all the time.”

  “Only when you need it, ” I p
ointed out.

  “But remember, the bossy ones are always the best in a fight,” my brother added magnanimously. “The nice meek little girls who never argue just turn tail and run if trouble starts.”

  The boy smiled. “That’s true. Balca’s not afraid of anything or anyone. She’d be brilliant in a fight.” He waved as the girl rode up to us and dismounted.

  “Hello, Tom-cat,” she greeted him. “I hear you’ve been having some trouble?”

  “Hello, Bossy-boots,” he answered cheerfully. “Yes, I have. I was just saying to my friends here, I could do with someone who’s not afraid of a fight.”

  “Well now you’ve got someone. My father heard the Long-hairs had been here, and he sent me to visit Belinus and Illiana this morning. That’s when I found out what’s happened. I’m so sorry. ”

  “Thank you. He was like a father to me.”

  The boy was nearly in tears again, but she pretended not to notice, and went on briskly, “Who are your friends? I presume they aren’t anything to do with the Long-hairs?” She addressed us in Latin. “Good day. I’m Balca. My father is Coriu, the Captain of Chief Bodvocus’ Guard. May I ask who you are?”

  “Lucius Aurelius Marcellus at your service, and this is my sister Aurelia, who runs the Oak Tree Mansio at Oak Bridges. The doctor who treated Belinus’ wounds lives there.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” It was Lucius who had her attention. “You came to see Chief Bodvocus a few days ago, didn’t you?”

  “I did, yes.”

  “You’re the government investigator Belinus was working for, aren’t you?”

  “You’re well-informed, Balca. He was one of my informers, but his work was supposed to be a secret. How did you hear about it?”

  “Everybody knows. Even the Long-hairs must have found it out, mustn’t they? And are those your men camped on the Headland? Half-a-dozen cavalry?”