[Camulod 01] - The Skystone

by Jack Whyte - (ebook by Undead)

  The first of these to arrive was a family from Verulamium. The father and his two adult sons were tanners; the mother, daughter and the wives of the two sons were highly skilled workers in leather. Caius welcomed them with open arms. They were followed within the month by a family of coopers, sent by Tonius Cicero from Londinium. Domus, the father of the clan, was also a skilled carpenter, and his son Andronicus shared all his father’s talents.

  In August came a family of brewers from the hop country far to the east, and the next month brought the arrival of another family of carpenters and wagon-builders, and a man from the north who, with his wife and daughters, had taken the art of basket-weaving to new virtuosity. Within a week of their arrival, they were making baskets that would hold water! A potter arrived shortly after them, bringing his wheel with him — a huge device on which he threw amphorae and other large storage jars and pots.

  Caius had begun to list all the resources we had at our disposal, and the people in our group who were best able to make use of them, and it was from this task that he was summoned by the commotion of my arrival. He was waiting with Luceiia at the gates as I turned my heavily laden wagon around the last bend in the road, and I could see his teeth gleaming in a grin from a hundred paces. The excitement being generated by my coming might have seemed, to a stranger’s eyes, more suited to the arrival of an important visitor than a lump of rock, but everyone in the Colony had been aware for months of the importance I placed on the stone I had been searching for so painstakingly.

  I stood upright on the wagon tongue, holding the reins, feeling my grin threatening to split my face in two. And then I was in front of them, and I stopped and leaped down to kiss Luceiia and embrace Caius.

  “So! You found it!” he said. Luceiia said nothing, smilingly enjoying my obvious pleasure.

  “Aye. I found it. Right where I knew it was.” Elated beyond words, I squeezed him tightly to me, hooking my right elbow round his neck in an unusual display of my affection, unaware that I was endangering his dignity. He eased himself gently free from this uncharacteristic embrace and eyed the canvas-covered heap on the bed of the wagon.

  “Well, then? Let’s see this prodigy! Let’s have a look at it!”

  I leaped back up onto the wagon bed and threw off the covering. It was huge. Or rather, they were. There were four of them. Four massive stones, the smallest of them as big as a strong man’s torso, the largest like the hindquarters of a draft horse.

  I had known what this sight would do to Caius. I saw all his doubts come crashing back to him at the sight of them. How could these mighty things have fallen from an empty sky? He bit his lip. Everyone had fallen silent.

  The rocks seemed to gleam in the sunlight. They almost looked ordinary — four big stones. But they had that polished, glassy look in parts that marked the other seven, smaller stones.

  Caius cleared his throat, since he could see that I, and everyone else, was obviously waiting for him to say something.

  “They… They’re very clean.”

  I laughed aloud. “And so they should be! We washed them.”

  “You… washed them?”

  “Yes, of course we washed them. They had been buried under tons of muck for years. I had to wash them to be sure of what they were. Their weight told me they were skystones, but I couldn’t be sure from looking at them, so we stopped at the first stream we came to and cleaned them. And there they are!”

  There they were, indeed.

  There was still a look of dreadful doubt on Caius’ face. “Did you not expect to find only one, Varrus?”

  I slapped my right hand onto one of the smooth surfaces. “They are only one, Caius. At least I think they are. My guess is that it shattered on striking the earth. If you look closely at them you’ll see that each has smooth surfaces and jagged planes. I fancy that if a man had the time and the strength to juggle with them, he could piece them all together like a broken nut.”

  “I see.” The tone of his voice told me he really did not see. “What will you do with them now?”

  “Break them in smaller pieces and smelt them.”

  “Will that take long?”

  “Who knows?” I said. “I hope not. It depends a lot upon the kiln we build, the degree of heat we can generate and on the hardness of the stones themselves and the quality of iron they contain. It could take a month. Perhaps much longer. I only know I’ll do it, no matter how long it takes.”

  I could see the doubt tugging at Caius’ mind. “Varrus,” he said, “Publius… what if the stones contain no metal?”

  I leaped back down to the ground. “They do, Caius! They do.” I suddenly became aware that everyone around was listening to us, and I turned to address them with raised arms, acutely conscious of their scrutiny, their curiosity and the scepticism that few of them were able to conceal as well as Caius.

  “My friends,” I told them, speaking into their polite, attentive silence, “these are the skystones you’ve all heard me talk about.” I glanced from face to face, smiling at the studied non-expressions on most of them. “They’re not much to look at, are they? But they’re big, and that’s what I was hoping for.”

  I jumped up onto the bed of the wagon and rubbed my hand against the smooth curvature of the biggest piece of stone.

  “Don’t let their plainness mislead you. They are real, and they were found where I expected to find them, and their true magic remains to be discovered in the months that lie ahead.” I drew my skystone dagger and held it up so that they could all see its shining, liquid-silver blade. “They contain metal,” I said, raising my voice to reach everyone there. “Metal like this, and as real as this is. I don’t know what kind of metal it is, but it’s more than simple iron. Whatever it is, I’ll get it out of them.”

  I saw in their faces — and in a few kindly but sceptically shaken heads — that they were prepared to accept and make allowance for my strangeness. They had begun to go about their interrupted affairs even before I jumped down from the cart again. I turned to Equus, who had not left my side in weeks.

  “Take the wagon to the smithy and get a few men to help you unload it. And make sure you warn them these things are heavier than they look. Don’t let anyone get hurt handling them.”

  I turned next to Luceiia. “My love, I have to bathe, and I’m as hungry as three starving men. Would you organize a bath and some food for me while I talk with Caius?”

  She smiled up at me and squeezed my arm, stretching on tiptoe to kiss my cheek, dirty as it was.

  “Gladly, my lord and husband,” she said, smiling. “Welcome home. I’ll be waiting for you.” And she was gone.

  I watched her walk towards the house, then turned to Caius with a contented sigh, throwing my arm around his shoulder. We began to walk together.

  “Caius, have I ever thanked you for your sister?”

  “Only ten thousand times. No more, I beg!”

  “So be it.” I laughed again, throwing my head far back. “Caius, I feel so good that I could dance a jig! There’s iron in those stones! I know there is. Do you recall the time I told you of my grandfather’s struggle to smelt his stone?” He nodded that he did, and I continued. “Don’t you remember, then, my telling you that at his last attempt, just when he was about to give up in despair, he noticed that there had been a change in the surface texture of the stone?”

  “Yes, I remember that. But what—?”

  “What he had noticed, Caius,” I interrupted him, “was a glazing effect, as though the stone had started to melt just as the fire died down. The same glazing effect that is already present in these stones!”

  He shook his head, mystified.

  “Don’t you see, Caius? When these stones fell to earth in fire, the heat of that fire must have been enough to start that melting process.”

  But this was stretching Caius’ imagination too far. He sought refuge in ridicule.

  “So? Are you saying you don’t need a kiln? That if you just throw these stones up in
the air, they’ll melt themselves?”

  I stopped him short and turned him to face me, reading his disbelief straight from his eyes. We stood together thus for quite a space, and then we resumed our walk. When I spoke again my voice was more sober.

  “Caius,” I said, “I wish that I could prove the truth of this to you right now. But I can’t. I can’t even explain the way I feel — how I know I’m right. It’s just something that’s in me. You think I am being foolish, and I know you well enough to know that you would suffer long before you’d take the chance of hurting me by saying so. But I also know that, of all the men I know, you are the one who wants most to believe that I am right, and to understand.

  “You’ve seen the dagger, and you’ve heard the tale, and you believe what your eyes tell you is true. Everything inside you wants to believe that I am right and that I will smelt iron from these stones. Is this not so?” He nodded, and I went on, “The only false note in this scale is that your mind, rational being that you are, will not allow you to accept the truth of rocks of any size at all falling from the skies in fire. Unless they were pre-heated and shot up from catapults.”

  We had arrived outside the bath house, and one of the servants already waited to assist me. I indicated that I would be there and looked back at Caius, smiling.

  “Well, General, I can’t give you an eyewitness assurance, but I promise you this. You leave me to indulge my folly in my own good time, and one of these days I’ll give you metal from those heavenly stones. I swear it. In the meantime, if you would turn your mind to assuring everyone else in the world that I am not insane, I will be greatly in your debt.”

  He looked me straight in the eye and blinked rapidly, and for one incredible moment I thought I saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes. Then he swallowed hard, clapped me on the upper arm, nodded and said, “Done!” Then he left me to my bath.

  By the time I had bathed and eaten, Caius was once more immersed in his lists, and I did not see him again until we sat down to dine that night. No sooner had we begun our meal, however, than we were interrupted by the arrival of our old friend Bishop Alaric, accompanied by two of his priests. Caius insisted that they join us immediately, dusty and travel-weary as they were, and after our greetings were exchanged, they set about the meal with the single-minded gluttony of men who have not eaten for days. All of us noticed it, but apart from exchanging glances among ourselves, no one passed comment.

  Finally, Alaric set down his knife and washed the grease from his hands.

  “Caius, on behalf of my brethren here, I thank you for the meal. We have not broken fast since the day before yesterday.”

  “In God’s name, why not?” I responded, astonished.

  “In God’s name we could not afford the time, Publius, and I knew we could eat here before going on.”

  Caius was frowning. “Going on to where? You are upset, my friend. What’s happening outside there, in the world?”

  Alaric returned Caius’ frown with one of his own. “You have not heard? No, obviously you have not. There is bad news on every hand, Caius. Invasions in the north, across the Wall. Nothing that’s organized, but heavy raiding parties range far south, destroying whole towns and marauding widely. They have kept far apart from each other, moving fast, so that the northern legions have been split to combat them.”

  “Has no one sent them help from further south?”

  “No. The garrison at Arboricum has mutinied, stirred up by discontent, they say, over the newly commenced crackdown of discipline. It could not have come at a worse time. The garrison is confined within the city and the field forces containing them were faced with a choice of marching to the north to stem the Picts or staying there to quell the mutineers. It is chaos. They had to stay, of course. So the depredations of the raiders in the north have been massive and more or less unchecked.”

  He fell silent, but I could see from his expression that he had not finished.

  “There is more, Alaric, isn’t there?”

  His eyes switched from Caius to me. “Aye, there is more. A fleet of Saxon longboats has landed in the southeast, on the Saxon Shore, and ravaged the country there. They managed somehow to outwit and ambush the forces sent to deal with them — slaughtered them all.”

  “How many?”

  “A full cohort of the Seventeenth.”

  I felt the hairs on my arm stand up. “Good God!” I whispered. “Five hundred men?”

  “A thousand! It was the First Cohort. The Millarian.”

  I leaped to my feet. “That’s impossible! A band of undisciplined Saxons? Never!” My reaction was involuntary, pure shock, for I knew Alaric was no liar.

  He ignored the implied insult and looked me straight in the eye. “Not impossible, Publius. Improbable, perhaps, but it happened.”

  “How, in the name of all that’s good in Rome?”

  He shrugged, shaking his head. “No one knows. All that is known is that they were taken on the march. The Saxons set fire to the grass. It has been a dry summer and the winds were strong that day. From the way the corpses were found, it was clear that they had been driven by the flames into a defile in the hills. They were trapped there and butchered.”

  “It still seems impossible,” said Caius, his voice betraying shock similar to mine. “They must have had scouts out! Light cavalry. No Roman army, cohort or legion, marches blind!”

  Alaric shrugged and had no comment to make.

  “So, Alaric, where are you going now?” I asked him.

  “South. To the coast. They have need of us. It seems another fleet has landed there, where no raiders have ever come before. The people were unprepared for them, and there is much suffering.”

  It was Caius’ rum to interrupt. “A fleet? South of here? But how? They couldn’t sail along the Saxon Shore without being challenged by our naval forces. What’s happening?”

  “It seems, Caius, they came across the sea. From Gaul.”

  “No!” Caius shook his head in denial. “How could that be? The Narrows — that I could understand. But a war fleet across the widest part of the sea? At the start of winter? Who would dare try it at this time of year? The Gauls have neither the courage nor the ships.”

  “I’m told that these were Frankish pirates.”

  “Franks? God! They dare much today, for petty brigands!”

  Alaric was quick to contradict him. “They are no longer petty, Caius. The Franks today dare much more than you know. They have bred warrior kings. The word from mainland Gaul is that they are highly organized and are quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with. The legions are in trouble over there.”

  I looked across the table to where Caius and my wife sat in awe, seemingly spellbound by the chronicle of disaster Alaric was presenting. For what seemed the longest time, a silence lay over all of us, almost suffocating in its density. I was the one who eventually broke it.

  “Well, Caius,” I said, my voice sounding flat, hard and heavy even in my own ears, “this could be it, the start of what you’ve been warning us of for years.”

  He looked at me as though he didn’t understand what I had said, a tiny frown of puzzlement appearing briefly between his brows.

  “What?”

  I carried on, my tone unchanged. “It looks as though your ending might have begun. To do what they have done, these Franks must be hungry. And that means they’ll be humourless and hard to reason with, for hungry people seldom stop to laugh. If they really are, as Alaric contends, emerging as a coherent fighting force — damnation, if they’re foolhardy enough to dare the sea between Gaul and here at this time of year — they could destroy the entire balance of the Empire. They could be the final straw that breaks the camel’s back and sends the whole world toppling into ruin.”

  He nodded wordlessly, thinking my comments through before addressing Alaric again.

  “Tell me what more you know of these Franks, my friend. Why have they suddenly become so troublesome?”

  The Bishop shoo
k his head. “I cannot answer that with any ring of truth, Caius, for I truly do not know.”

  “You spoke of warrior kings. Who are they?”

  Alaric shook his head. “I have no names. I only know they exist, bred of the troubles of their people. The Visigoths have leaders, too, today. Leaders with great talent for warfare.”

  “Heathen bastards!” I interjected.

  “No, Publius.” Alaric shook his head again. “Not heathens. Many of them are Christians, forced into war by injustices against their people. This I know to be true. We have bishops and priests among them now, preaching the Word of God with great success, except where it concerns war. These people will not stand still any longer and be exploited like cattle at the whim of Rome. They choose to fight. As they see it, they fight for their survival as a race.”

  “Aye, and they’re all Roman-trained!” I said.

  “That may be the least troublesome thing about them.” Alaric’s voice was solemn. “The Franks have taken to horse. They are highly mobile now, capable of covering great distances far faster than the legions. It makes them difficult to contend with.”

  “The Franks now, too?” Caius’ voice was rich with disgust. “Rome had enough trouble with the Ostrogoths in Asia Minor when they took to horse! That was, what? Five years ago? A whole consular army wiped out! Six legions, totally destroyed! Forty thousand men! I still can’t believe that, after all this time.”

  “An imperial army, Caius.” My interruption was soft spoken. “Valens himself was there, remember.”

  “Valens! He was no emperor! He was a popinjay pretending to rule in the West, with Valentinian sitting in Constantinople, permitting it because it was expedient. Two Emperors at one time! Faugh! And now we have three! Gratius and his catamite, Valentinian — co-emperors, if you please — and Theodosius. It disgusts me to the pit of my stomach!”

  Caius was growing really angry, allowing himself to be distracted.

  “But we were discussing horsemen. The Ostrogoth cavalry that day, ill-equipped rabble as they were, destroyed the myth of Rome Invincible.” Caius turned again to Alaric. “Where have these Franks found horses in such numbers as you seem to be describing?”