Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  The Chief looked at Coriu. “Well?”

  “If you wish, of course. As long as the marriage itself still takes place this year.”

  “Then that’s decided.” The Chief turned to Albia. “Thank you for your kind offer, Albia. We accept, and hope your Greek fellow can find the cause of my daughter’s trouble and make her well again, by Beltane if possible. I’d like her to be with us here for the feast day, even if she’s not able to take much part in the celebration. It’s a day for families to be together, after all. But you can tell her from me that if she really is too weak and ill to prepare the Mother-gift, Balca will be on hand to do it instead.”

  “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary,” Albia said. “We’ll do everything we can to get her well again, you can be sure of that.”

  “Thank you. Now I must ask your pardon, but I have work to attend to. I wish you all a safe journey, and my daughter a speedy recovery.”

  The Chief provided his largest raeda for Elli, who lay propped up on cushions, with her maid sitting beside her. I kept looking back at her from our carriage, wondering what I’d do if she went into labour on the journey, and we were all relieved when we reached Albia’s house.

  As it happened the first person we saw was Quintus, who was standing in front of the house chatting to Candidus. I jumped down from our carriage and hurried over to him. “I’m glad you’re still here. We’ve had quite an eventful time.”

  “I’ve seen Lucius already,” he explained. “I met him on the road, which saved me going all the way to the coast. He’s had a small piece of luck. His men caught one of the Gauls and made him talk. He admitted that the raiders sometimes take orders from a local landowner who pays them well for what he called ‘occasional services.’ He didn’t seem to know the name, he said their leader keeps that bit of information to himself. But he said one or two of the raiders aren’t very happy working inland, they’d rather stay near the sea and their boats. I thought I might as well wait here for you and tell you that, and also hear how you got on with Bodvocus. Who have you brought back with you?”

  “The Chief’s daughter Elli.” I followed his glance to where Albia and the maid were helping her down from the raeda. “Clarilla was right about her being in trouble. She’s due to have Aquilo’s baby any day now. If her father finds out, he’ll kill her.”

  “Merda,” was all he said, but that summed up the situation pretty well.

  Candidus greeted Elli warmly, as I’d known he would. Esico and Illiana gave her a respectful but friendly welcome, and Illiana stirred herself into activity to help as Albia put Elli to bed in the biggest guest room.

  “You mustn’t worry,” Albia said. “We’ll take care of you here, and the baby, when it comes.”

  “Thank you. Thank you all,” Elli said. “When Aurelia came to me with my aunt’s letter, it felt as if—I don’t know, as if I’d been sentenced to death, and then reprieved. My mother and I could never have managed to keep my baby secret for long, living under the same roof. And then…” She shivered. “According to our custom, my father could put the baby to death, and me too.”

  “But would he really be so harsh?” Albia asked. “His only child…surely he wouldn’t actually go through with it?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered miserably. “ I’ve been hoping against hope that Aquilo could think of a way out of this, but it’s all such a mess.” She covered her face with her hands, and then raised her head again, as if the thought of her lover had given her new courage. “I mustn’t give in. There’ll be something we can do, there must be. Could we get a message to Aquilo today, without the rest of his family finding out?”

  “Quintus is going over to see Magnus today,” I said. “Write a note for Aquilo and he’ll deliver it. Or dictate it to me, if you’re not up to writing.”

  But she summoned enough strength to sit up in bed and write a short message on a wooden tablet. I took it outside to the stables, where Quintus and Titch were saddling fresh horses, and Titch was reporting a conversation he’d had while he was at Bodvocus’. He repeated it for my benefit.

  “Two of Coriu’s lads, Mistress Aurelia. They were in one of the guard-rooms, and I heard them mention Caratacus’ gold, so of course I pricked me ears up. One said, ‘They’ll never discover it, they’re only a load of ignorant Long-hairs.’ And the other agreed, and said, ‘The captain should send us out to look, we’d soon find the right spot.’ Then they realised I was just outside, and stopped. I made a point of talking to them in Latin, so they’d think I hadn’t understood anyway.”

  “Well done. What do you conclude from that snippet of conversation?”

  “Why, that the raiders have been told to find the gold, by Bodvocus or Coriu.”

  “That’s how it looks, certainly. Aurelia, you actually met the great chief himself. How did it go?”

  “I was surprised how amenable he was to the idea of a public declaration of peace. He’s promised to invite the Ostorii to his Beltane feast, he’s sending them a personal message today. He agreed quite easily, provided the Ostorii would agree too, and I told him they had already, in principle. So you’ll have to make sure they do.”

  “I will. Though whichever of them is working with the raiders—Bodvocus, it seems—will no doubt break any agreement they make.”

  “Bodvocus himself said that, about Magnus of course. But whoever it is, they’ll hope to keep things nice and peaceful for a while, long enough so you’ll go away happy that the problem’s resolved, and Lucius will take his men to some other trouble spot in the province. That gives us time to find out more, and also to track down the gold, if it really exists.”

  “Gods, Aurelia, don’t say you’re finally accepting the story of Caratacus’ gold as fact?”

  “Only as a remote possibility.”

  “And then you saw Elli and her mother, and decided to bring Elli here. Didn’t Bodvocus object?”

  I told him how we’d managed it. Quintus nodded, and said, “Titch, remember, not a word of any of this at the Fort. I’ll be with Magnus and the nephews, you’ll be with the servants, picking up what you can. We’re presenting ourselves to them as imperial investigators, looking into Magnus’ complaint about rebel elements among the natives, and we’re letting them believe we’re on their side.”

  “I understand. No mention of me giving weapons training to the guard captain’s daughter.”

  “If that’s what you were doing. Now, are we ready?”

  “Speaking of Balca…?”

  “Well?”

  “Will you need me to stay at Magnus’ tonight?”

  Quintus looked at him warily. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I wondered if I ought to stand guard over at the sheep pasture with Cattos and Balca. With that old huntsman getting killed, they shouldn’t be on their own in the dark. The raiders might come back for Cattos.”

  “We’ll see.” Quintus was smiling. “If I don’t need you, you can go and play shepherds and nymphs. But I want you with me now, to meet Magnus and his family and their servants. I expect you’ll be carrying messages to and fro in the next few days, and it’s important they recognise you and trust you.”

  “It’s just—I don’t like to think of them out there on their own…”

  “I said, we’ll see. Now let’s go. Take care of yourself, Aurelia.” He gave me a swift kiss, then they mounted and rode away.

  Chapter XIX

  The days are long here in the north, and this one seemed longer than usual, with events crowding on one another’s heels. But finally in the late afternoon Albia and I found a little space to sit and sip wine by the pond. We were just congratulating ourselves on having survived the busiest part of the day when Titch returned.

  From the state of his horse he’d ridden like the wind. But not for the delight of our company or even Balca’s, I soon realised. The pace had been set by another man, a slight, slim figure with dark hair and eyes and unmistakeably Ostorius fea
tures.

  “Here’s Aquilo,” Albia said, as the two horses skidded to a halt.

  “Albia, I came as soon as I heard about Elli,” the young man said as he dismounted. “What wonderful news. Where is she? Is she all right? May I see her straight away?”

  Albia got up, smiling. “She’s fine, Aquilo, and of course you may see her. Bu you haven’t asked the most important question of all.”

  “What question? I don’t understand. Please, Albia, I’ve no time for games.”

  “The question you should ask is, how’s the baby?”

  “The baby’s born already? Already?”

  “Your son is here waiting for you. And he and his mother are very well. Come in and see for yourself.”

  They went indoors, talking and laughing. I stayed by the pond, determined at least to finish my wine in peace. It had been quite an afternoon. No sooner had Quintus and Titch left us than Elli had gone into labour. And contrary to the usual experience that first babies are never in a hurry to be born, this one had popped out in about an hour. Albia knew what to do, and Elli’s maid helped with the fetching and carrying, so my contribution was mostly keeping the twins amused and out of the way. It’s odd, but I felt quite squeamish about the birth and was glad nobody wanted me to help with it, yet I’ve seen foals born, and pups, and calves, and piglets, and never turned a hair. Still, I’ve always known that when the gods doled out to each of us our personal gifts, Albia got an extra portion of mothering skills, and I got none.

  Titch was watching me. “The bairn’s come since we left? Gods, that didn’t take long. Just as well we got Lady Elli away from her father’s place.”

  “You’re not joking. Are you staying for a quick drink to celebrate the arrival of the new Ostorius?”

  “I’d better not linger. I’ll just see to the horses and get myself a fresh one, then I’m off again. My orders are to get back to the Fort as soon I’d escorted Aquilo here.”

  “You were escorting him? It looked to me as if you were racing him, and he was winning hands down.”

  “Aye, well, he was in a bit of a hurry. And he showed me a short cut across country that’s really useful.”

  “See to the horses then, but before you go, I’m sure Quintus Antonius told you to report to me or Albia about the Ostorii. I’d like to hear what you both thought of them.”

  Titch grinned. “Actually he didn’t tell me that, but I’m sure he meant to. All right then, thank you, I’ll take a quick drink.”

  He walked the horses about to let them cool off, gave them a quick rub-down and a drink, and turned them loose into the paddock. He managed it all extremely well despite his injured hand, and was soon sitting by the pond holding a mug of wine.

  I let him quench his thirst before I asked, “Well? Why is Quintus so anxious for you to ride back to the Fort? Some sort of trouble?”

  “Could be. I was hoping to go to the sheep pasture tonight to look after Balca,” he said regretfully. “But there’s a poisonous atmosphere there, like a tavern when a fight’s about to start, except nobody’s actually drunk. Quintus Antonius wants me there in case there’s any violence.”

  “Who’s fighting who, then? It’s in the family, presumably?”

  “Aye, they’ve been rowing like cats and dogs ever since we got there, and before we arrived too, I shouldn’t wonder. About whether to go to Chief Bodvocus’ Beltane ceremony, the one Balca was telling us about. The three nephews all have different ideas about what they should do. Ferox, the middle one, doesn’t want them to go at all, any of them, because he says they’re enemies and it would be dishonourable to accept their hospitality. Vividus wants Magnus to go because he says it’ll look odd if he doesn’t show up, but he doesn’t want him to promise anything about peace with the Chief because he doesn’t trust him.” He paused to take a long drink. “Aquilo wants them all to go and make a public peace declaration.”

  “And Magnus himself?”

  “That was the most surprising thing. He was siding with Aquilo and favouring peace, at least that’s how it was when I left.”

  “I agree, that is a surprise. Was he putting on a performance for Quintus’ benefit?”

  “We couldn’t be sure. He said he was real glad Quintus Antonius was here, and Master Lucius with his soldiers, because it meant the Governor was taking him seriously when he complained about the natives making mischief. He said he’d only ever wanted peace with everyone, and he’s prepared to say so publicly at the feast. Now that Aquilo’s over here instead of at the Fort joining in the argument, the old boy may change his mind I suppose.”

  “Probably not, if he wants to make a good impression on Quintus.”

  “I don’t think Quintus Antonius is that easily impressed,” Titch said.

  Just then Aquilo came hurrying out of the house, and almost ran to where we sat.

  “Aurelia, have you seen my son? He’s wonderful, absolutely beautiful. Oh, you must come in and meet him. And you, Victor, you must come and say hello to him too. Gods, I’m so happy, I feel as if I’m flying!”

  “He’s lovely,” I agreed. “I’ve seen him already, and he’s a beautiful little fellow. So I won’t go in disturbing Elli again just now, and I don’t think Victor should either, not when the baby’s so very new. There’ll be time enough later.”

  Titch gave me a quick grateful smile, which Aquilo failed to notice.

  “Perhaps you’re right. I’m glad you’re still here, Victor,” he added in a slightly calmer tone, “because I’d like you to take a message back to the Fort for me. I’m going to stay here tonight, and probably most of tomorrow too. Will you tell my uncle and my brothers this is where I shall be?”

  “I will, sir, of course. What reason shall I give?”

  “Reason? Why, the obvious one…oh no, I see what you mean. Uncle Magnus and the others don’t know about Elli and me. I’ll have to tell them soon, but I can’t do it in a message.” He looked perplexed. “I don’t know what’s best. I’ve got to say something, they’re bound to be wondering…oh, my mind’s whirling so much I can’t think straight.”

  “Your uncle mentioned,” I said, “that you’re interested in music and poetry.”

  He looked even more perplexed. “I am. I don’t see how that helps.”

  “Suppose you’d discovered from Quintus Antonius that Albia was entertaining friends from Eburacum—no, better still, Londinium—and one of them was a musician, an acquaintance of yours whom you haven’t seen for years. You’ve rushed over to see him, and Albia has offered to put you up for the night so you can spend some time together.”

  “That’s perfect! Thank you, Aurelia.”

  “Titch, can you make Aquilo’s message about his reason for staying here sound convincing?”

  He nodded. “I can. Just one detail to make the picture complete. What’s the name of this old musician friend?”

  “The name?” Aquilo smiled. “How about Trimalchio?”

  We all laughed, but I was doubtful. “A character from a famous book? Won’t they smell a rat?”

  “Not they! None of the rest of my family read anything but treatises on warfare.”

  Titch rode off into the gathering dusk, and Aquilo went back to sit with Elli and their son. Albia, Candidus and I ate supper, and I found I was so tired I was falling asleep over my bowl. I went to bed early, and whether the new baby cried in the night I don’t know, because I slept like the dead.

  At home I’m always up with the dawn, and I couldn’t break the habit of waking early, but I enjoyed the luxury of lying in bed awhile instead of rising to look after guests and prepare for a day at the mansio.

  When I finally made my way to the kitchen, a good hour after sunrise, Nasua offered me warmed wine and bread and honey for breakfast, so I took a plate and beaker and strolled outside. Brutus and his men were hard at work on the defences, which were now beginning to look quite formidable. Candidus was talking to a couple of his farm boys, and Alb
ia was looking over what remained of her garden after the recent raid. She waved a greeting and came over to me. “Relia, good afternoon! It is Relia, isn’t it—my energetic sister, who used to boast she never could stay in bed once the sun appeared?”

  I laughed. “You fed me too well last night, Albia, and I had a really good peaceful sleep. But how about you, and Elli and the baby? How is everyone?”

  “All fine. We all managed to get a bit of sleep eventually, including Elli. The baby’s feeding well, but it was a slow start, because Elli doesn’t seem to have enough milk for him.”

  “So you’ll have to look for a wet-nurse. What a nuisance.”

  “We’ve got one already. Illiana still has milk, and she’s feeding him for now.”

  “Really? She doesn’t mind doing that, after losing her own child?”

  “No, in fact she offered to help, and it seems to be comforting her. She knows Elli of course, which makes it easier. I’ll bring my breakfast out here and join you, then we can look in and see them again.”

  We were just finishing a leisurely breakfast when Candidus walked over to the pond. “Brutus says the stockade will be finished today, and they may even get the gate fitted. That’s good, isn’t it? Oh, ‘morning, Aurelia. No need to ask if you slept well. I’m glad our comings and goings didn’t disturb you.”

  “I was too comfortable for anything to disturb me, Candidus. Your boys have done really well, to get your stockade ready so soon.”

  “Yes, they have. Brutus’ army experience made all the difference. I’m afraid my one year as a military tribune didn’t equip me for fortifying farms. And I’ll be glad when we can shut ourselves inside it if we need to.”

  “Presumably the other farmers round here are all putting up the same sort of defences?”

  “One or two, but mostly not. They haven’t the manpower, of course, but all the same it’s odd. They don’t seem to think extra protection is necessary.” He sat down beside us and helped himself to Albia’s half-finished mug of watered wine.

  “I agree,” I said, “that’s odd.”