Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  “So whatever you want, can you make it quick,” Divico added with his usual scowl.

  “Leaving the farm?” Candidus repeated. “Have you had more trouble here?”

  “They’ve poisoned our well.” Esico said sadly. “Our only water. They’ve thrown something down it, something dead, a sheep probably. It stinks, and it’s tainted the water. It’s too deep to reach and get it out. We can manage without most things, but not water.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said. “And it’s the Long-hairs who’ve done this?”

  “It must be, though we haven’t seen them. Anyhow we’ve talked it over, and we’re going to the coast to ask the Chief for help. We’ll take what we can with us, and go and see him today. He’ll look after us and find us somewhere safe to stay till all this trouble’s over.”

  “We hope,” Divico muttered.

  “I’m sure he will. He takes care of his own, does Bodvocus. And anyway what else can we do? It’s too dangerous here now.”

  “But is there really no other way?” Candidus asked. “I came to see if I can be of help to you, lend you a couple of men perhaps. If they could get the well cleaned out…”

  “It’s good of you, Candidus,” the old man answered. “But we’ve had enough. We’re finished, we’re leaving, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Then you must come and stay with us,” Albia said. “We’ve plenty of room, and you’ll be safe at our farm, but still near enough to your own to come over and check on things here every day.”

  “Stay with you? Oh no, we couldn’t.” But we all knew that Esico wanted to accept the invitation, and only his pride prevented him.

  “Of course you could,” Candidus said. “It’s the perfect solution. You need somewhere safe to live, we need extra help on our farm. So come to us, just until these Gauls are caught.”

  Divico shook his head firmly. “We thank you, but we’ll manage with Bodvocus’ help. We don’t want to be beholden to anyone.”

  “But you wouldn’t be, Divico,” Candidus answered. “I’ll expect you to help me with my farm work, as well as whatever you need to do here. You’ll be doing two men’s jobs, but I have the feeling you’re used to that already.”

  “I don’t mind hard work,” Divico conceded. “But…why should you do a thing like this for us? We’re not your kin. You’re Romans.”

  “Because we’ve got to stand together against these raiders. They’ll be caught sooner or later, but till they are, there’s safety in numbers, isn’t there? I’m suggesting this for our benefit as much as for yours. It’ll be as if you paid me rent, but instead you’ll be paying me in the work you do.”

  “Well, if you put it like that…” the young man’s grim expression softened.

  Esico cut in. “You’re agreeable, then, son?”

  He nodded. “I’d rather be living near here, as long as the family’s safe. So thank you, Candidus.”

  “And Illiana, you can help me with the children,” Albia added. “I haven’t got a nursemaid just now. Will you do that?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” she said softly. “I’m with Divico. We’d be much better living near the farm, if you’re really sure you have room for us.”

  “I’ll help too,” her father added. “I won’t be able to do much heavy work, but I can mind children, yours and ours. And I can help a bit in the garden, with the jobs that don’t need too much bending. And I can act as a lookout, if you’re needing an extra pair of eyes to watch for trouble.”

  “But Albia,” I cut in, “you’re supposed to be coming down to the Oak Tree with us.”

  She smiled. “I shan’t need to now, shall I? If we have more people at our farm, we can manage the work and keep ourselves safe. You know I’ve never been keen on the idea of leaving Candidus.”

  “But…”

  “No, my mind’s made up. It was a lovely invitation, Relia, and we all appreciate it, and we will come, but not yet. We’ll wait till the times are peaceful again.”

  “So are you agreed?” Candidus asked. He looked round at them all in turn, and in turn they nodded.

  “Thank you,” Esico said. “We’ll try not to be more of a burden than we can help.”

  “And it’ll only be for a short time.” Divico turned away to stare at the cart, but not before I saw he was trying to hold back tears.

  “That’s right, son,” Esico said gently. “Our troubles can’t last for ever. Thank you kindly, Candidus and Albia. We’ll get the cart packed, and drive up later today.”

  “At least living with you, we’ll be able to keep an eye on Cattos,” Illiana spoke up. “He’s a good lad, but very young.”

  “We don’t want to lose him. Or the sheep,” Divico said.

  “He’s in good spirits this morning, at least. He said to tell you not to worry about him and Balca.” I told them about our visit. “Balca’s a tough young lass, isn’t she? And her father too, I believe. He’s nursing a broken arm just now, and he visited our doctor at the mansio the other day.”

  Esico nodded. “She’s a rare one. Coriu’s brought her up as if she was a boy, and there’s been nobody to show her how a woman should behave, on account of her mother dying when she was small.”

  Illiana smiled, and suddenly looked pretty, despite her pallor and rather gaunt features. “The gods know what’ll happen when Coriu marries Elli. That’s Bodvocus’ daughter, you know, and she’s not much older than Balca. Her father promised her to Coriu when she was young.”

  “When’s the wedding?” Albia asked. “I did hear it’s going to be this summer.”

  “It’s supposed to be. But with all the troubles we’re having now, they may put it off perhaps. And I’ve heard tell Elli isn’t all that keen on marrying him.”

  “Enough gossip, Illiana,” Divico cut in, but quite gently, for him. “Let’s get this packing finished. And we’ll see you later,” he said to Candidus.

  Esico looked at Candidus earnestly. “You and Albia are good friends to us. We appreciate it, don’t ever doubt it.”

  We said our good-byes and went our separate ways. Candidus took his family back to their farm, and I and my two-man escort headed for home.

  I had plenty of time to think on the journey home, but for all the good it did, I might as well have let my mind go blank and just enjoyed the ride. All I could achieve was to collect together the few certain facts in this confused situation.

  Voltacos and his sea-raiders had attacked both Belinus’ farm and Albia’s. They had done damage and shown they weren’t afraid to kill. They’d wanted Belinus dead because he was Lucius’ informer, and that must explain the other incidents of harassment that Belinus’ family had mentioned.

  That was where facts ended and questions began. Why had the Gauls raided Albia and Candidus? If all they wanted was to extort a few denarii or steal a few lambs to eat, there were plenty of other farmers nearer the coast they could pick on. But then if Esico and Divico were right, the Gauls were simply carrying out orders issued them by someone else who was paying them to carry out carefully thought-out plans. Who was playing at general, using these criminals like foot soldiers to fight the battles in the field? It wasn’t a large choice: either Ostorius Magnus or Chief Bodvocus.

  I’m not one of those Romans who believe that everything we do is right, while the troubles of the world are invariably caused by barbarians within or outside our frontiers. All the same, if there’s a conflict between Roman settlers and native tribes, my upbringing and instinct make me side with Romans like the Ostorii, however unprepossessing some of them might be. But I didn’t know enough about the Ostorii really. Were they ruthless enough to kill for land? And I certainly hadn’t sufficient information to make a sensible judgment about Bodvocus. Was he playing a very subtle kind of game, using his local power and influence to harass settlers in secret while professing loyalty to Rome?

  I we rode the final mile down the Long Hill, I was sorry not to be bringing my sist
er and the children home, but at least travelling without the wagon had meant a fast journey. We reached the Oak Tree shortly after noon.

  Chapter XIII

  “So thanks to Voltacos, you’ve had an eventful time,” Margarita smiled, and poured me a second beaker of red. “Rescuing a shepherd boy, losing a box of gold, finding an unpleasant surprise on the wrecked boat, and worst of all, a band of Gauls raiding Albia’s farm. And you’ve only been away two days!”

  “It’s good to be home again.” I was sitting at a table near the bar, engaged in one of my favourite occupations: sipping my wine while looking round at a satisfyingly busy bar-room. “I tried to persuade Albia to bring the children here for a few days, but you know my sister. She didn’t want to leave Candidus and home.”

  “It must have been a horrible experience for them. But Lucius is doing something about the raiders?”

  “Yes, he is. And he’s offering a reward for the missing cargo. He wants us to spread the word here. I was wondering about putting up a notice.”

  “Why not? Tell me what you’d like it to say, and I’ll write it.”

  We grinned at each other. There was no need to add that her handwriting was very much neater and smarter than mine.

  ”Now tell me your news. Is all well here?”

  She nodded. “Very well. Two guests stayed last night, and a very sober and quiet evening we all had—no more birthday parties.”

  “How’s Timaeus? Have there been more wounded for him to treat?”

  She delayed answering long enough to take a big jug of beer to a nearby table, where three farmers pleaded that they were dying of thirst. “Two more came yesterday, both from the wold country. One was from the Parisi, the other a young Roman lad. Both said they’d been attacked by the Gauls. The only thing was, the native said the raiders are in the pay of Roman settlers, but the Roman boy said they are working for a local chief called Bodvocus.”

  “There’s certainly some kind of feud going on between those two, but whether it involves Voltacos, we don’t know yet. We saw a small example of the quarrel yesterday. Landowners moving one another’s boundary stones, trying to steal their neighbours’ fields.”

  “Well, if anyone can sort them out, it’s your brother. Oh, I nearly forgot something important: there’s a note for you from Chief Councillor Silvanius. It came yesterday.” She went over to the bar and reached up to the high shelf where we always keep important messages. This one was in the form of a scroll, neatly tied and adorned with Silvanius Clarus’ seal.

  “Maybe its an invitation to a banquet. One can always hope.” I broke the seal.

  “I suppose the messenger didn’t let slip any hint about what he wants?”

  “Not a word. I explained that you’d be away till at least this evening, perhaps longer, and asked him to tell Silvanius I was sure you’d answer the letter as soon as you could when you got back.”

  “Good, thank you. Well, I’d better see what he wants.”

  The message was longer than it need have been, because its meaning was wrapped up in the flowery formal language that Clarus loved. He wanted me to visit him and his sister at his “humble abode”—his enormous villa the other side of Oak Bridges—in order to “partake of a little refreshment, and to discuss a matter of some delicacy with which I believe you can help me.”

  Margarita made no attempt to hide her curiosity. “Are you any the wiser?”

  “Not much. He wants me to visit him, but he doesn’t say why. I expect he wants me to suggest some special wines for his next banquet.”

  “Will you go this afternoon?”

  “No, I’ve done enough travelling for one day. Tomorrow will be soon enough. I’d better send a reply today though. It isn’t every day I’m summoned to His Pomposity’s humble abode.”

  I went into my study and wrote a brief note for Clarus saying I’d be delighted to visit him tomorrow. While I was at it, I jotted down what I hoped was enticing wording for a notice offering a hundred aurei for information leading to recovery of Lucius’ missing gold. I gave this to Margarita, then took my message for the Chief Councillor round to the stables so that one of the horse-boys could deliver it. As I crossed the forecourt, Taurus fell into step beside me, and I remembered guiltily that I hadn’t given a thought to the wagon’s slow progress home from the coast, or to its gruesome contents.

  “Hello, Taurus. You had a safe journey home, I hope?”

  “We did, Mistress. Got back last night. I was wondering…what shall we do with the remains of the poor man from the boat? We’ve put him in one of the old farm buildings out of the way for now, but he can’t stay there, can he? Shall we build a pyre for him?”

  “Yes please, in the usual field. Get one of the farm boys to help you. We’ll give him a ceremony at sunset.”

  “Did Master Lucius know him?” Taurus asked. “He seemed to behave very strange when he saw him in the box. Not like himself at all. Made me wonder.”

  “You’re right, Taurus, he did.” I reflected that this big, simple slave wasn’t anywhere near as stupid as most people thought. “The man was a—an acquaintance of Lucius’, from down south. It gave him a shock, coming on him like that.”

  “It gave us all a shock, Mistress. Right then, I’ll organise the pyre, leave it to me.”

  In the stable yard I found Secundus, who said he’d see that my message went to Oak Bridges within the hour. I asked how things were going.

  “Everything’s fine with the stables.” There was an odd emphasis in the way he said those last few words.

  “That’s good. Anything else I should know about?”

  “Just one thing. Our Victor will be home sometime today. A courier from Eburacum, one of his mates, called in to tell me he’s on his way.”

  “Really?” I paused, not sure what to say to him. He’d be pleased to see his son, we all would. And yet the circumstances were so sad. “You’ll let me know when he gets here, won’t you? And tell him I’m sorry for what happened, but I’m proud of him too. It’s not every day I meet someone who’s saved his company’s standard.”

  He smiled. “Aye, I will. By the gods, look at this beauty!”

  I followed his gaze, and wasn’t too surprised to see that the “beauty” was a horse, not a woman. One of the boys was leading an extremely handsome white gelding into the yard. It was a very fine animal, big and well-muscled, with a brilliant white coat and thick mane, and it stood out among the usual travel-worn mounts like a rose in a thistle patch. Its saddle and bridle were smart and new, with fancy bronze trimmings.

  “Beauty is right, Secundus! Where’s he from, I wonder? I’ve never seen him before, I’d remember a gorgeous horse like that.” I’ve a good memory for horseflesh—my family say it’s better than my memory for people—and I envied the man who owned such a lovely creature. Presumably he was in the bar now. I must make a point of congratulating him.

  “Superb, isn’t he?” A voice behind us made me spin round, and my heart gave a great leap as I saw the tall fair-haired man walking towards me, smiling and holding out his hand. It was Quintus Antonius Delfinus.

  “Why, Quintus! Welcome to the Oak Tree!” Of course that wasn’t what I really wanted to say. I felt like running into his arms, and, between kisses, telling him how happy I was to see him again. But that wasn’t our way. We were lovers, but we kept the fact discreet, so a proper greeting would have to wait till we were by ourselves. I simply took his hand and smiled into his eyes, and then nodded towards the horse. “I’m just wondering if I can get away with stealing that gorgeous beast before the owner finishes his drink.”

  “You’ve left it too late. He’s mine.” He was standing beside me now, and I had to make a considerable effort to stay so near him without touching.

  “Yours? You’d never ride a flashy animal like that.” Quintus is an investigator like Lucius, but a more senior one, working directly for the Emperor. “You always try to be inconspicuous when you travel.
If he’s really your horse, I’m the Queen of Brigantia!”

  He made me a deep bow. “Well, Your Majesty, he’s truly mine. I won him two nights ago in a dice-game in Eburacum, from a staff officer with more money than sense.” His purple-blue eyes flashed, and I knew that the win itself would have given him as much pleasure as the prize. “So I thought, where can I try out such a wonderful animal? Of course, I’ll visit Oak Bridges for a few days, and show him off to Aurelia.”

  “I’m very pleased you did.” That was putting it mildly. I hadn’t seen him for six months, but we could make up a lot of lost time if he was planning to be at the Oak Tree for a few days.

  “Mind you,” he added, “that’s if I haven’t died of thirst in the meantime. I thought you innkeepers were supposed to be generous and hospitable, and here you are, keeping me chatting in the yard, and you haven’t offered me so much as a beaker of water!”

  I laughed. “You should have said that’s what you wanted. I thought you’d come here just to gloat about your horse.”

  We didn’t linger in the bar-room, pausing only long enough for me to ask Margarita to send wine and food through to us. Then we headed for my private sitting-room, where we threw away discretion and I gave him a real welcome. Soon a knock at the door announced Margarita with a tray of wine and food. She greeted Quintus cordially, though not quite as enthusiastically as I’d done, and smiled at me as she put down the meal on the table.

  “Everything’s under control in the bar, Aurelia. And you and Quintus Antonius will have business to discuss, so I’ll see that you’re not disturbed for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Thanks, Margarita. We appreciate it.”

  “She’s a sensible girl,” Quintus said when we were alone again and could resume our greeting.

  “She is. And if she’s prepared to cover for me this afternoon, let’s make the most of it.”

  I poured the wine and we drank to each other, sitting side by side on a couch. He moved closer and murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

  “And I you. Tell me, have we business to discuss, as Margarita put it, or is this just a social call?”