Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  “I’ll be safe enough, Candidus. I’ll have whoever drives the carriage, and I can take Taurus along as a guard.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about safety. But Bodvocus is extremely old-fashioned in his ways, and he simply wouldn’t receive a woman he’d never met who called on him unannounced, except in a man’s company. He’d be perfectly polite, but he’d have one of his people show you straight into his daughter’s presence, so that you could have a nice womanly chat together. If you want to talk to him seriously about making peace with the Ostorii, you’ll need a man with you to break the ice. I’d offer to escort you myself, but I really need to be here while Brutus and his men are at work.”

  “That’s a blow, but I take your point. Quintus, could you escort me there before you go off to Magnus’ estate?”

  He shook his head. “I’d rather not visit Bodvocus so soon. I’m anxious to get Magnus and his nephews to trust me, which means giving them the impression I’m on their side in whatever quarrel they’ve got with the local people. It they found out I’d been to Bodvocus first, they might be harder to convince.”

  “Then Lucius will have to come along, I suppose. As soon as Titch gets here, can we send him to Lucius’ camp with a message?”

  “Well, I suppose so…”

  “I’ve had a better idea,” Albia said, and I noticed a thoughtful gleam in her eyes that I recognised from long experience.

  Candidus had spotted it too. “Do we stand up and cheer, or run for cover?”

  “Relia, if none of the men are available to escort you to see the Chief, why don’t I go with you? He knows me, a respectable Roman matron, and I’m sure he’ll agree to receive us together. Two Roman ladies, calling on the local chief and also on his daughter, will be respectable enough even for him. What do you say?”

  “I say yes, let’s do it.”

  “But will it work?” Candidus looked at us doubtfully. “He’s so conventional.”

  “We’ll make it work,” my sister declared, and that settled the matter.

  Quintus grinned. “Poor old Bodvocus. He won’t have an inkling that you two sisters are a far more dangerous combination than if either of you were accompanied by a mere man.”

  “Of course he won’t,” I replied. “That’s what makes it such a good idea.”

  As we were finishing our meal, Titch arrived, late but not disastrously so, with a broad smile and an excuse about not having realised what the hour was. We all teased him, even Quintus, though not before he’d said something quietly in Titch’s ear which wiped the smile off his face for a few heartbeats.

  “I want you to escort Aurelia and Albia on a visit to Chief Bodvocus,” Quintus told him. “You’ll drive them in a raeda, and Taurus will go along as guard. Not that they need one, if you’re there, but to make the right impression. Bring them back here when they’re ready, and then join me at the Ostorius estate, the Fort as they call it.”

  “Right. And when we get there, while the ladies are drinking their wine, I’ll try and get to know a few of the native lads, like Coriu and his guard.”

  “You have an acquaintance in common, so that shouldn’t be too hard. Unless Balca already has a young man among the guard, of course.”

  “She says not.” He stopped, blushing, then hurried on. “Well, I’ll harness up.”

  Albia’s raeda was new, and her mules were a good pair from our own stables, steady and strong. Titch drove them at as good a pace as was sensible, given the rough country tracks we had to follow through the hills, and we enjoyed the chance to talk. I passed on all our news, including the information that thanks to Brutus, we now knew that Rollus wasn’t, in fact, our brother.

  “Poor Lucius,” she said sadly. “He’ll take it very hard. Still, if the man was a traitor, it’s for the best.”

  We discussed how we’d try to persuade Bodvocus to make peace with the Ostorii. Albia was optimistic, and she had firm ideas about the best approach. What it boiled down to was that I was to let her do the talking, especially at first.

  “He’s a funny old stick, but I know him, and more important, he knows me. He’ll give our suggestion more consideration if it comes from me rather than from a stranger. So just leave it to me. All right?”

  “Willingly. From what I keep hearing about him, he’s a scary old man.”

  She nodded. “Scary and powerful, used to his own way. But I think I can handle him.”

  The Chief’s grand residence stood on a slight rise of ground, about two hundred paces from the sea. It looked imposing in the mid-afternoon sun, even though it was an odd construction to Roman eyes. It wasn’t a roundhouse, as you’d expect a native dwelling to be, even on a grand scale. It was oblong, with a short two-storeyed corridor of rooms jutting out to one side towards the back. Yet its walls were of timber, not brick or stone, and the roof was thatched with straw and had no chimney.

  Clustered quite close around it were several other smaller houses, and assorted barns, workshops, store-rooms, and stables. They were all contained within a vast enclosure, surrounded by two tall earthen walls, one inside the other, each with a deep ditch in front of it. We drove through the outer wall by way of wide wooden gates, hospitably open now, only to find that the entrance through the inner rampart was offset some distance to the left, forcing us to turn and drive slowly along between the two banks for some way. The gates of this second entrance were open too, and there were no obvious guards about, but in the blink of an eye both gates could be slammed shut, to turn the whole area into a fortress.

  Titch headed for the main door, and before we’d covered half the distance, a young man stepped out in front of us, and we pulled up. “Good day to you,” he greeted us in reasonable Latin. “What can I do for you?”

  He was a typical fair blue-eyed native, but the weave of his fawn tunic was a shade finer than the other men’s, and his boots and belt were of good leather. Then I gave up speculating, because Albia greeted him by name.

  “Good day, Vulso. I’ve brought my sister Aurelia to see the Chief and deliver messages from some of his kinfolk at Oak Bridges. Aurelia, let me present Vulso, one of the Chief’s senior guard.”

  The man smiled and gave a small bow. “Forgive me, Mistress Albia, I didn’t know you at first. Welcome to our house, and welcome to you, Mistress Aurelia.”

  “Thank you,” we both said. Not for the first time I was grateful for Albia’s wonderful memory for faces. If she recognised the Chief’s household with such ease, our visit would go more smoothly than I’d dared to hope.

  She returned Vulso’s smile, with a convincing and quite un-Albia-like air of diffidence. “I hope the Chief will forgive our coming unannounced. My sister only arrived to stay with us today, and we didn’t want to lose any time delivering her messages.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you,” Vulso answered. “I’ll escort you to him. Your men can take your carriage round to the stables and give your mules and themselves some refreshment.”

  He came towards the carriage door. I nearly forgot we were supposed to be behaving like refined ladies and began to reach out a hand to open it for myself, but remembered just in time, and changed the movement to a more feminine gesture, patting my hair to tidy it. Vulso opened the door and helped us alight, and as we followed him across to the house, I saw a servant directing Titch and Taurus towards the stable block.

  We climbed the few steps into a big hall, which took up most of the building. There was a dais at one end of it with some doors leading off it, a vast fireplace in the centre, and a few more doors leading to rooms down the side opposite the entrance. Vulso sat us down at a small table near the door. “I’ll go and tell the Chief you’re here. I’m sure he’ll be able to receive you very soon.”

  “’Be able to receive us very soon?’” I repeated the words to Albia, speaking softly although they roused my indignation. “He gives himself airs, doesn’t he? As if he’s some great nobleman or a high official.”
>
  She nodded. “He is, Relia, at least in these parts. His family come of the old native aristocracy, and they’ve always been friends to Rome. So when the administration was sorted out here, Bodvocus was left with a lot of his old power. After all it makes no odds to the authorities really, provided his people keep the peace, and pay their taxes on time.”

  “And it means he has quite a lot to lose, if he or some of his men are caught out harassing Roman farmers. Has he any sons to follow in his footsteps?”

  “No, only Elli. That’s why everyone sets such store by a marriage between Elli and Coriu. Bodvocus needs an heir.” But there was no time for more, because Coriu himself appeared from a doorway at the far end of the hall and strode briskly towards us. He was informally dressed, in a leather kilt and boots and a sleeveless jerkin, and he made a very handsome figure even though his arm was still pinioned to his side.

  He greeted us warmly. “Welcome to you both. Albia, how good of you to call. Are you well?”

  “Very well, thank you, Coriu. Candidus sends his regards, and his apologies for not coming with me. He’s anxious to stay on the farm at present, at least until our new stockade is finished.”

  “I understand. And you’re welcome at any time. This is your sister Aurelia?”

  Albia nodded. “You’ve met her already, I think? She’s the innkeeper at the Oak Tree mansio, where you went to have your broken arm set.”

  He smiled at me. “Of course, just briefly. Please tell that Greek doctor my arm is feeling much better, and I’m being good and not trying to use it yet, even though it’s very frustrating.”

  “I’m glad it’s healing well.”

  “ Vulso tells me you’ve brought some messages for Lord Bodvocus?”

  “For the Chief and for his daughter, from Chief Councillor Silvanius and his sister Clarilla. They’re friends of ours at Oak Bridges, and when they heard I was coming to visit Albia, they asked me to bring letters for you.” I decided to follow Albia’s example and behave as he’d expect a Roman lady to do. “I hope it won’t inconvenience them, my coming to see them without sending word first. I’ve just arrived at Albia’s, and I didn’t want to delay delivering the letters. In these uncertain times…”

  “Uncertain is right,” Coriu agreed. “The Chief will be pleased if you’ll join him now. As for Elli, I’m sure she’ll be delighted with some female company. She’s been unwell for the last few days, and has had to keep to her room, which I know she finds very boring.”

  “I’m sorry to hear she’s unwell,” Albia said. “She was in radiantly good health when I saw her last month. It’s nothing serious, I hope?”

  “I hope not too. One of these mysterious women’s complaints, which is making her very tired. Seeing new faces will cheer her up.”

  We followed him into a large, light room, overlooking the front portion of the enclosure, with the two earth banks in the foreground, and beyond them a slope of ground and a distant glimpse of the sea. The room was set out as a kind of audience chamber, and the furniture was well-made, with rich inlays and good carvings. Bodvocus sat in a huge throne-like chair with elaborate back and arms, and a cushioned foot-rest. It was impressive, though it didn’t look particularly comfortable. There were several more chairs, a couple of small tables with inlaid tops, and a polished desk in one corner where a thin elderly secretary sat writing. Bodvocus was keeping him busy, to judge from the pile of papers and note-tablets in front of him.

  Bodvocus didn’t get up as we entered. Coriu introduced us both, and he said, “Welcome, ladies,” and gave us a rather condescending smile. “It’s good of you to visit us. You’ll take some wine?” His Latin was fluent, with a native lilt to it.

  We all sat down, and a manservant came in and placed a tray on one of the small tables. He poured out wine, and handed round plates with nuts and small slivers of cheese, and some odd-looking brown cakes. The wine was a good Italian white, and the jug, beakers, and plates were of pewter.

  There was a longish pause while we all sipped and chewed and wondered what to say. I took the chance to study the Chief. I meet plenty of natives, but apart from Clarus, I’d never met one with this much clout. He was older than I’d expected, perhaps fifty-five, with a lined face and a small neat grey beard. His hair and eyebrows were grey too, but the blue eyes beneath them were sharp. He wore a finely-woven wool tunic, and he had a thick gold collar round his neck and a couple of gold bracelets on his right arm. So if he was a Roman citizen—and I assumed he must be, if he was acting for the government—he preferred not to flaunt the fact by wearing a toga.

  The silence lengthened. The Chief must be waiting for one of us to explain why we were calling on him. Quintus had said it was against the custom for a woman to pay him a visit by herself. Even with Albia there, and armed with my messages from his relatives, the Chief’s welcome was only what basic politeness demanded. I could make a conversational opening, but Albia had warned me to leave the talking to her.

  “It’s good of you to receive us, Lord Bodvocus,” Albia said. “My sister has been so looking forward to meeting you, having heard about you from your relatives in Oak Bridges.”

  “Indeed?” He relaxed a little.

  I said. “I hope you won’t think it’s impertinent when I say I know you already by reputation. Chief Councillor Silvanius has talked about you often.”

  A small smile twitched his mouth. “What has he said?”

  That was a tricky one. I could hardly tell him Silvanius wanted to know whether he was allowing his men to harass Romans. “He mentioned visiting you at Beltane last year,” I improvised. “He and Clarilla enjoyed that enormously. And he’s always saying what a peaceful district this is, and how he admires the way you govern your people.” I picked up one of the scrolls I’d brought with me, and crossed the room to hand it to the Chief, who accepted it with a nod. “Here’s the letter he asked me to bring, and he said I was to convey his and Clarilla’s greetings and good wishes.”

  “Thank you.” He opened the scroll carefully and read through it. His expression softened a little more, and he looked at me with growing interest. “My kinsman writes a pretty letter.”

  “He’s always had a way with words,” I answered.

  “He says that you are among his most valued friends, and he sometimes even seeks your advice in his dealings with the authorities, because your brother is on the Governor’s staff. You take an interest in public affairs, do you?” It was half question and half accusation.

  “I’m afraid I do, though people tell me it’s not really a woman’s sphere. But I’m my father’s daughter, and he was a retired centurion, always fascinated by politics and government. He taught us that every citizen, man or woman, must be aware how the Empire is ruled. Didn’t he, Albia?”

  She nodded. “I believe you knew father, Lord Bodvocus, when he first established the Oak Tree mansio.”

  That broke the ice, and the Chief smiled at her. “I did. A fine man, and a brave soldier in his youth, they say. How long is it, since he set up the mansio? It must be almost twenty years ago.”

  They continued to exchange compliments and memories for a while, until Albia steered the conversation back to the present.

  “And now our brother Lucius is on an assignment here. He came to see you the other day, I believe.”

  “He asks for my help against these accursed Gauls. Of course I’ve told him I’ll do what I can. But if they were easy to apprehend, we’d already have caught them, wouldn’t we, Coriu?”

  “We certainly would. Aurelius has a squad of soldiers camped on the Headland, but I don’t think they’re having any luck tracking the raiders down.”

  “Our father used to say that local criminals can always out-manoeuvre soldiers,” I put in. “They know the terrain so much better.”

  The two men nodded their approval at this statement of the obvious.

  “I hope the raiders are caught soon,” Albia continued. “Perhaps you hea
rd our farm was attacked, and one of our servants killed. It was horribly frightening. We’re building a stockade now.”

  “You’re wise,” the old man said. “But have you enough men to guard it?”

  “Chief Councillor Silvanius has sent us half-a-dozen guards to help give us some protection. This has always been such a peaceful, safe part of the world, and I hate the feeling of being under siege. I shan’t be truly at ease until the raiders are caught.”

  “I heard about the attack,” the Chief said. “I’m sorry it happened. You and your husband have always been good friends and neighbours to everyone. I wish I could say that all those who’ve come to settle in this area show as much consideration.”

  Albia neatly took her chance to move to the topic we wanted. “You’re thinking of the Ostorii, perhaps?”

  Bodvocus looked at her keenly. “You’ve heard what they’re doing? I appreciate that you’ll feel sympathy for fellow Romans, but surely you can’t approve of the way they’re behaving?”

  “So far,” Albia said carefully, “I’ve heard only vague rumours of trouble between them and some of your people. They say they want to live peacefully with all their neighbours.”

  Coriu gave a scornful snort. “They’ve a funny idea of living peacefully. Plaguing our farmers, moving boundary markers, breaking down our hedges and fences so that animals wander, or sometimes disappear altogether. And if you ask me, they’re working hand in hand with Voltacos’ men.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t approve of any such thing,” Albia answered. “Romans or not, that’s no way to behave. Have you evidence of what they’re up to?”

  The men shook their heads. “Not evidence that would stand up in one of your Roman courts,” Bodvocus admitted.

  “I think the old uncle, Magnus, is greedy,” she went on, “and I can well believe he’s antagonising people by his efforts to get more land. He says he wants to build up a huge estate for his three nephews. But joining forces with a band of rogues…with respect, that doesn’t seem very likely to me.”