Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  “Why not?” the Chief retorted. “What better way for him to get more land than to frighten a few farmers into selling him their homes?”

  “And you’ve got to admit it’s our own Parisi people who are being harassed,” Coriu put in.

  “Not exclusively,” Albia said softly.

  “I’m sorry, Albia,” Bodvocus said. “Coriu was mistaken. You have suffered along with our people. Perhaps that’s because you and Candidus have always been on good terms with the Parisi people. What you’re doing now for Esico and his family…we know about it, and we appreciate it.”

  “Thank you,” Albia said. She paused. “May I ask your help with something, Lord Bodvocus?”

  “Certainly, if it’s in my power.”

  “This—this trouble between you and the Ostorii. It’s disturbing, and it’s also taking time and resources away from fighting the Gauls. It seems such a waste to me.”

  He nodded. “To me too.”

  “Then is there no way you could make this quarrel stop?”

  “We’re not the ones…” Coriu began, but Bodvocus waved him quiet.

  “What have you in mind, Albia?”

  “Couldn’t you get them to declare publicly that they’ll settle any outstanding disputes with you and your household, and then live at peace with you?”

  Coriu said, “We’re not the ones disturbing the peace. They must surrender to us.”

  “But I’m not asking you to surrender anything to anyone,” Albia said quickly. “Not at all. I’m just suggesting that you take the lead in bringing about peace. That you and the Ostorii should set aside any differences you may have, and work together to destroy Voltacos and his men. They’re the men who are disrupting the peace, and I believe they’re encouraging rivalry between your people and the settlers, so they can carry on their criminal activities with less risk.”

  “You’ve met Ostorius Magnus, presumably?” Bodvocus asked her.

  “I have, yes, and so has my sister.”

  She glanced at me, like an actor giving a cue, and I took it. “I met him at our mansio when he came to buy some horses from us. We had quite a long chat, and he expressed himself as extremely worried about the Gauls, and the way this peaceful district has been suffering at their hands. From what he said, I think he’d jump at the chance to make it clear to everyone that he’ll co-operate with you in destroying the pirates.”

  “He’s bluffing, surely,” Coriu put in. “Trying to disguise the fact that he’s prepared to use the raiders for his own ends.”

  “But do we know that for sure?” I looked at him, and then at the Chief, and neither of them answered. “And even supposing he is in some sort of alliance with them, he’s hardly in a position to admit it. He’ll accept a proposal for peace, and if it’s made before all the people—say at your Beltane feast—you’ll be able to ask for his help against the raiders, and he’ll have to promise to give it whether he likes it or not.”

  “But he won’t keep the promise,” Coriu growled.

  “If he’s innocent of conspiring with the raiders,” I said, “he’ll keep it. If he isn’t, he may not keep it for ever, but he’ll have to do so for a while or be publicly dishonoured. And consider this: if it’s true he has been making use of the Gauls now and then, surely your best hope of putting him in his place is to destroy the Gauls as soon as possible. Then he can’t.”

  Bodvocus smiled at me. “I think my kinsman Silvanius may be right when he says you offer good advice.”

  “I wouldn’t presume to advise, Lord Bodvocus. But I’m worried for my sister and her family. I’d do anything I could, in however small a way, to help reduce the risk to them, and to other farmers.”

  “And you really think that if I ask him, Ostorius Magnus will agree to come to our feast at Beltane and publicly promise peace between his people and mine?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Bodvocus sat still for a long time, considering. “Very well. Like you, I want peace, and I’m prepared to try to negotiate with him. I’ve already issued a general invitation to all our neighbours to come and celebrate with us. I’ll send Ostorius a personal invitation today, and we’ll know by his answer whether your assessment of him is correct.”

  Coriu gave me a look that would have curdled milk. “My lord, I want peace too, we all do. But not at the price of…”

  “Yes, Coriu, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll write a note straight away, and you’ll send one of your men to deliver it, please. And now,” he turned back to me, “I believe you have a letter for my daughter from Clarus’ sister?”

  “Yes indeed. Would it be possible for me to see your daughter while I’m here? I bring her greetings and messages as well as the letter.”

  Bodvocus inclined his head. ”I’m sure she’d be glad to see you. She’s a little indisposed this afternoon, but I’ll send someone to enquire.” He rang a small bronze hand-bell, and instructed the young page boy who appeared to find out whether Elli was receiving visitors. “Tell her that Albia and her sister Aurelia Marcella are here, with a message from her aunt Clarilla.”

  I said, “I hope Elli’s indisposition is nothing serious?”

  “Just some woman’s complaint, I gather. Her mother’s been nursing her, but she continues to stay in her room. Our wise woman here, who deals with our sick and wounded people, seems to be at a loss. Ah, here’s the boy. Well?”

  “Lady Elli will be delighted to receive Aurelia Marcella and Albia,” the boy said. “Please to come this way with me.”

  Elli’s room didn’t lead directly out of the main hall, but was one of those off the side corridor, and it looked south, so the first thing that struck us as we entered was a flood of bright sunlight. A middle-aged woman with a careworn expression rose to greet us. “Albia, how good to see you. And this is Aurelia Marcella? Please come in. I’m Elli’s mother.”

  We stepped in, and saw Elli lying full-length on a highly ornamented couch with wooden carvings on its back and arms. Her head was propped on a couple of cushions, her knees were drawn up, and one hand rested on her stomach, which was quite distended. A young maid sat beside the couch, gently bathing Elli’s face with a cloth, but she stopped and left the room as we entered.

  I could see at once that Elli would be strikingly beautiful when she was well. But now her skin was greyish and there were lines of pain across her forehead, and her blue-grey eyes had no sparkle, only a tired, blank expression. Her pale gold hair was long by Roman standards, but it hung limp and unkempt.

  Her mother said, “I’m sure you girls will have plenty to talk about, so I’ll leave you to chat for a while. Call out if you need me.” She left the room and closed the door firmly behind her.

  Chapter XVIII

  “Forgive me for not getting up to greet you.” Elli spoke good Latin with hardly a trace of an accent. “I’m not feeling my best at present. But I didn’t want to miss the chance of seeing you, Albia, and meeting your sister. Any friend of Aunt Clarilla is very welcome.”

  I took the seat by the couch. “We’re sorry to find you unwell. Clarilla will be too. She was worried about you, and I promised to let her know how things are with you. I hope whatever ails you is nothing too serious?”

  “Not serious in itself, no. But for me, it couldn’t be more serious.” She hesitated, and there was an odd look in her eyes, of fear, almost panic. I thought, here’s someone exercising an iron control over herself. Was she in severe pain, or was there some other unhappiness that she was trying to suppress?

  I took her hand. “What’s the trouble? Is there anything Albia or I can do to help?”

  “I doubt that, thank you. I…well, I don’t think anyone can help me.”

  “Tell us what’s wrong,” Albia said, pulling up a chair at the other end of the couch. “I’ve quite a store of herbs that help the aches and pains we women have to suffer. Is it your time of the month?”

  “No, Albia, it’s not that. I’m grateful that
you should try to help, but…Aurelia, Mother said you’ve brought a letter for me from Aunt Clarilla. May I see it? She’s such a sweet person, her letters always cheer me up.”

  I produced Clarilla’s scroll. She untied it and read it slowly. Suddenly her face crumpled and she began to cry. I sat quietly holding her hand till she had herself more or less under control.

  “Clarilla says you’ll be a friend,” she murmured, so softly we had to lean close to hear her. “And I know Albia is my friend too. Gods, I need friends now. Can I trust you both to keep a secret?”

  “Yes. I promise.” We both answered together.

  “I’m not really ill, that’s just an excuse to let me stay out of Father’s way. I’m with child.”

  I stared. “With child! Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. And I expect it to be born any time.”

  It was hard to believe. Her stomach was a little swollen, but not exceptionally so, and her breasts weren’t very big. She must be one of those girls who can carry a baby inside them for nine months without a change in shape that a generously-cut tunic wouldn’t disguise.

  Albia voiced my thoughts. “You don’t look as if you’re about to give birth. I was as big as a house when I was carrying the twins. And you’ve managed to keep it a secret from everyone?”

  “Mother knows, and my maid. Otherwise nobody.”

  “Your father?” I asked.

  “My father would kill me if he found out.”

  “Even though you’re betrothed? Surely if you married Coriu now…”

  “It isn’t Coriu’s child.”

  So the punishment would be brutal indeed. Bodvocus would consider she’d disgraced him, and Coriu would feel the same. Brides of the Parisi tribe have their marriages arranged for them by their families, and they’re expected to be virgins.

  “I haven’t even told Aquilo. I wanted to, but I couldn’t find the right words at the right time. I’ve enough trouble just seeing him now and then.”

  “Aquilo? Ostorius Aquilo?” Albia exclaimed.

  “Yes. We’re in love, and we want to be married.”

  So Clarilla had been right. “Your aunt realised you were in trouble. She suspected you were involved with someone…” I searched for a better word than “unsuitable,” Clarilla’s description, “…someone your father would disapprove of.”

  “Involved?” She laughed. “That’s such a horrible word. In love, that’s what we are. And neither Father nor Magnus can stop us loving one another. They can stop us marrying, especially Aquilo’s uncle, because of the Roman laws about having to have consent from the head of the family, which Magnus would never give us. But once the baby’s born, we hope both of them will realise they’ve got to make the best of it. And if they don’t, we’ll run away together.”

  Albia said, “And it’s really due any time now?”

  “Today, tomorrow, I’m not sure precisely, but it won’t be long.”

  Albia got up and stood over her, and very gently put her hands on Elli’s stomach. She nodded slowly as she took her hands away again. “I can feel it moving. I’d say it’s wanting to be born.”

  “And neither your father nor Coriu have any idea you are carrying a child?” I asked.

  Elli spread her hands. “Why should they? They don’t expect me to…and they’re men, it’s not hard to put them off the scent. Tell them you have a ‘woman’s complaint’, hint about bleeding and attacks of nausea…they’d rather not know the details. As for Coriu, I haven’t seen much of him these past few months in any case. In fact he’s been very aloof lately, not just to me but to everyone. I shouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him. Perhaps he’ll accept it when I tell him I can’t go through with it.”

  I refrained from saying this was as clear a case of wishful thinking as one would care to meet. Coriu would never willingly accept such a thing. Whatever his feelings for Elli, he must want the marriage very much, because it singled him out as Bodvocus’ heir, second in power and prestige to the Chief. But there was no point saying any of that. “Ideally, we need to get you away from here, Elli, to have the baby in peace and not be worrying all the time about being discovered. Would you be prepared to move out to somewhere else, if we can arrange it?”

  “Prepared? Oh, it’s what I’ve been hoping and praying for. But where? I wondered about going to Aunt Clarilla, but it’s a long way to travel, and anyway she says her brother Clarus has told her not to interfere in my family’s business, so I might not be welcome.” She smiled suddenly. “But she’s brought you to me, Aurelia. It’s lucky for me that she doesn’t always do what she’s told.”

  “Neither does your mother, it seems. She’s been protecting you and your secret.”

  She sighed. “Mother’s been wonderful. But she’s frightened of Father, he can be a bad-tempered bully at times. If he finds out—I suppose I mean when he finds out—I don’t think she’ll be very good at standing up to him. Aquilo and I will be on our own. That’s why we may have to go away from here.”

  “If we could get you over to our farm,” Albia suggested, “you can have your baby there. I know you’d miss your mother’s help, but I’d look after you.”

  “Oh, Albia, if I only could. But I couldn’t impose on you. You’ve got your own children, and you’re expecting another, aren’t you? It’s a wonderful idea, but I can’t.”

  “Of course you can. Take it as definite that I’d like you to come to me. Is it what you’d like too?”

  Her face lighted up with sudden hope. “More than anything.”

  “Then no more argument,” my sister said. “We’ll take you home with us now.”

  “But Father will never allow me to leave here without a good reason. And what reason could I give?”

  “Would he let you come to Albia’s,” I wondered, “if our Greek doctor Timaeus was there? He’s a first-class man, and we could tell Bodvocus that he might be able to find the cause of your mysterious illness.”

  “A Greek doctor? The man who set Coriu’s broken arm? Is he staying with you, Albia?”

  My sister smiled. “No. But we can say he is. We can even send for him if you look like needing medical help. I don’t think you will. You’re young and strong, so all you need is somewhere peaceful where you and your new baby will feel safe.”

  Elli sat up on the couch and swung her feet onto the floor. “I’ve been praying to the gods, and my prayers have been answered. Thank you. Thank you both! I’ll pack a few things to bring. Can my maid come with me?”

  “Hold your horses,” Albia said. “Don’t do anything till we’ve persuaded your father. That may take a little time.”

  First we told Elli’s mother what we planned, and she promised to help persuade Bodvocus. So she and Albia and I went back to his room, and found him deep in consultation with Coriu and Vulso. They politely broke off their discussion as we came in, but the Chief, despite courteous words of enquiry about Elli, gave the unmistakable impression that we were an annoying interruption to much more serious matters.

  When we suggested that Elli needed to see Timaeus, who was at present staying at Albia’s house, Coriu nodded approvingly. “He’s a good man. Can he really help Elli, do you think?”

  “Yes, we believe he can,” Albia answered. “He’s knowledgeable about women’s complaints. He’s visiting me because I’ve been having…but no, you gentlemen don’t want to know the details, I’m sure.” Her coy smile was a masterpiece, and the men all shook their heads.

  “But why can’t this Timaeus be summoned here?” Bodvocus demanded. “My daughter shouldn’t have to go traipsing across country to see him if she’s unwell.”

  I answered “Timaeus can’t leave my sister’s house just now, I’m afraid. Besides helping with Albia’s problems, he’s looking after Illiana, Esico’s daughter. She’s lost her baby, you know, and is quite gravely ill. So the doctor has his hands full, but if Elli’s in the same ho
use, he can care for her too, and find out what’s wrong with her.”

  Bodvocus turned to his wife. “What do you think? Would Elli do better going to this Greek fellow than staying here with you?”

  She nodded, and said quietly, “She ought to see this Greek doctor. The sooner the better.”

  Bodvocus shrugged. “I suppose she could visit Albia for a day or two. But she must be back here for the Beltane celebrations. She has to help prepare the Mother-gift.” He glanced at Coriu. “And I’m planning to announce her betrothal to you during the festivities. I can hardly do that if she’s not here, can I?”

  “It will depend on what the doctor says,” his wife answered. “Of course she’ll be here if she’s well enough, but you won’t be able to announce it if she’s ill, will you? You haven’t seen her for a day or two, but as she is now, she can hardly stand on her legs. What with the dizziness, and being sick, and the bleeding…”

  “Very well, very well. I’ll take your word for it. Are you telling me she may not be in a fit state for her part in the Mother-gift ceremony either?”

  “Not unless she improves dramatically in the next two days. I think we should prepare Balca to take her place.”

  “Balca?” Coriu smiled. “She’d be honoured, and she would do it well, I’m sure. If Elli really can’t manage it, I mean, of course. But we want the ritual to go smoothly, my lord, don’t we, or people may say it’s a sign of the gods’ disapproval.”

  “That’s true,” Bodvocus agreed thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of that. Well then, send word to Balca that she may be needed. She’ll know what she has to do, she’s watched the ceremony every year. And, Coriu, if Elli is really ill, perhaps we should postpone the public announcement of your betrothal until she recovers. What do you think?”

  “Perhaps we should. I’m not exactly fighting fit myself.” He glanced down at his right arm, still held rigid at his side.

  “I think it would be better to delay the announcement for a while,” Elli’s mother suggested. “Say until midsummer?”