Hibernia (Veteran of Rome Book 2)

by William Kelso

  Corbulo shook his head in disagreement but said nothing. What was the point in trying to explain to this old fisherman the superb network of carefully planned and positioned Roman forts that spanned the whole western coast of Britannia. A signal from the watchtower at Portus Sentantiorum would be picked up by another tower further down the coast and so on until it reached the cavalry fort at Kirkham. Thirty auxiliary cavalrymen could reach Efa's family home within two or three hours of a raid and if the Hibernians and Caledonians landed in force a signal could be sent to the cavalry fort at Bremetennacum and five hundred mounted men from the 2nd Cohort of Astures could reach Portus Sentantiorum within twelve hours. Corbulo stared at the Roman watchtower. It had been Agricola who had been mainly responsible for the layout of the Roman forts and roads and the thought of his old boss brought a wry smile to his face. Despite the huge difference in rank and class Corbulo liked to think he'd got to know the man. They had shared the same boat during the river assault on the druidic strong hold of Mona Insulis and later when Agricola had risen to become Legate of the Twentieth he had come to Corbulo's rescue when Corbulo had refused to swear loyalty to the Legion's mutinous officers. Corbulo scratched his cheeks. What would Agricola be doing now? The last time he had seen him was in Rome when he'd gone to the famous general’s house to inquire about the whereabouts of Marcus, his son. That had been over two years ago.

  "Would you prefer that the soldiers were not here?" Corbulo asked turning to the fisherman.

  "Yes," the fisherman nodded. "We do not fear the men from across the sea," he muttered. "They raid us and burn down a house and steal some of our women but houses and women can be replaced." The old man paused. "But no one listens to me, they think I am an old fool," he grumbled, "when I warn them that one day the sea will take our whole settlement." With his hand the man made a sign over the water as if to placate the waves. "We built our homes too close to the sea and one day the water spirits will have their vengeance for such disrespect. This is what I fear," he growled.

  ***

  Logan was busy checking up on the beehives when Corbulo stumbled upon him later that morning. The wicker hives stood in a row some distance from the civilian settlement. Bees were everywhere but Logan seemed unconcerned as he went about his work. Corbulo however kept a safe distance. Just beyond the hives the marshland crisscrossed with water channels stretched away until it reached the Wyre. In the sky birds were swooping up and down as they hunted for food above their boggy nests. The scene was peaceful. Close by, one of Aidan's sleek hunting dogs lay stretched out on the grass gazing at Logan with it’s red tongue hanging out of its mouth. Corbulo folded his arms across his chest as he too watched Logan work. The noisy buzzing of the bees did not fade as Efa's brother went down the line of hives carefully checking each one. When he was done he came up to Corbulo.

  "Where will you take the honey?" Corbulo asked.

  Logan turned to look at the hives. "Aidan has made me master of the bees," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "Our village is famous for our honey. Sometimes I sell it to the Romans in their watchtower but tomorrow I shall go to their fort at Kirkham, the one we passed along the road. If the bees are productive I may even go all the way to Bremetennacum. The old men don't like it, but business has been very good since you Romans came."

  "Well we soldiers do have a sweet tooth," Corbulo replied.

  "We trade with Hibernia too," Logan said as he turned to look towards the sea. "They don't always come here to raid. They sell us dogs and we give them honey and Roman wine. It's a good trade. Red Tongue over there," Logan said pointing at the dog lying in the grass, "he came from Hibernia."

  Corbulo glanced at the dog.

  "Aidan, your father, he still hasn't forgiven me has he?"

  Logan looked down at his feet as he poked his toes into the grass. "My father will never approve of you," he said at last. "If it wasn't for the fact that you brought back his only daughter he would have killed you long ago. My father fought against the Legions when Rome first came to our lands. He will not forget that. He remembers how it was before Rome came here."

  "Fair enough," Corbulo said with a sigh.

  The two of them were silent for a while.

  "Did my sister keep you awake last night?" Logan said as an amused smile appeared on his face.

  "She did," Corbulo nodded.

  "Can you tell Efa to make less noise," Logan said abruptly, "the whole village heard her last night. No one could get any sleep."

  Corbulo shrugged and looked away as a little colour shot into his cheeks. For a long moment no one spoke.

  "So what will you do now Corbulo?" Logan asked.

  Corbulo sighed and scratched his chin. "I don't know," he exclaimed. "I cannot return to Londinium and I have lost my business."

  "I like you Corbulo," Logan said in a solemn voice, "You should stay with us here in our village. I could teach you how to look after the bees and you could take Efa down to the beach where she can make all the noise she likes."

  "That's a fine idea but your father would not approve," Corbulo muttered sourly.

  Logan raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I will speak with him. It was you after all who brought Efa and Dylis back to us. I will remind him of that."

  ***

  It was noon when Corbulo entered the round house. The nine Christian children were sitting around the open fire eating their stew. Efa was serving them from a large iron pot that hung over the fire. She gave him a happy little smile as she moved around the circle. Corbulo said nothing as he took a swig of water from a water skin and leaned back against the wall of the house. They were just children he thought as he studied them. The Emperor Domitian had a reputation as a moderate when it came to the Christians. So why were the Governor and the Procurator so persistent in their attempts to find them? Had they really nothing better to do? No, this was more than just religious persecution. Corbulo stared at the children, willing himself to find the answer. Petrus was wearing his wooden cross over his clothes in full view of everyone. The boy had changed after the struggle with Bestia in Viroconium and Corbulo had noticed that he'd started to distance himself from the others. The boy had begun to crave solitude. Corbulo turned to look at Dylis. His daughter was eating and talking excitedly with the children beside her. She looked happy and full of life. He smiled. Maybe because Efa was happy, her daughter was as well. Then his eye came to rest on Christiana. The little blond girl was listening intently to what Dylis was saying. On her back she was wearing her satchel. Corbulo blinked. In all the time he'd known Christiana he had never seen her take that satchel off her back. She had clung to it wherever she had gone. He peered at her and then slowly he opened his mouth.

  "Christiana," he said abruptly, "who gave you that satchel?"

  The children fell silent and turned to look at him.

  "Who gave you that satchel?" Corbulo repeated.

  The little girl looked embarrassed by all the sudden attention and she refused to look up at Corbulo. The room fell silent until only the crackle and hiss of the wood burning in the fire could be heard.

  "My father gave it to me," Christiana said at last in a timid little voice. "He said I should look after it and I have."

  Corbulo strode across the space that separated him from the children and knelt down beside Christiana. He gave her a little smile.

  "Will you let me take a look at your satchel," he said. "I just want to check something. I will give it back to you, don't worry."

  Christiana nodded and Corbulo gently pulled the bag off her back. The satchel was small and the opening was secured by a leather strips that had been tied into a knot. Corbulo undid them and reached inside the bag. When his hand emerged he was holding five tightly rolled scrolls.

  "What's this?" he exclaimed.

  No one replied. Corbulo stared at the scrolls. They looked like letters. Then he noticed the wax seals that secured the parchment. He lifted one of them up and peered at it closely. Suddenly his fa
ce grew pale.

  "Well fuck me," he murmured.

  ***

  Corbulo sat alone in the round house staring at the five parchment scrolls that lay in his lap. He looked nervous and tense. Close by, the open fire crackled and spat and the lazy smoke drifted upwards towards the hole in the roof. He had just finished reading each scroll for the third time, just to make sure he had not missed anything but now as he finally grasped the full meaning of the letters he was stunned. He turned to look at the fire shaking his head in disbelief. So this was what the Governor and the Procurator had been so desperate to retrieve? Five letters, hidden in a leather satchel, carried by a seven year old girl who'd had no idea of their importance or existence. Corbulo stared at the flames. He understood now, it all made sense. A sudden shiver ran down his spine. He, Efa, the children and Efa's whole village were all in mortal danger. The Governor and the Procurator would not give up the search, they could not for both had become desperate men.

  The heavy leather curtain that hung across the doorway was suddenly pushed aside and Efa came in. She gave her husband an inquiring look and crossed over to sit beside him.

  "It's already evening," Efa said, glancing down at the scrolls, "the children cannot stay outside forever. It's going to rain soon."

  "I need to speak with Christiana, can you bring her here," Corbulo said abruptly.

  Efa gave him a searching look. Then silently she rose and left the house. A few minutes later she was back holding Christiana by the hand. The little girl looked nervous as she shuffled towards the fire. Efa laid a reassuring hand on the girls shoulder as she turned to look at her husband.

  "Christiana," Corbulo said gently, "who was your father? What did he do?"

  The girl looked down at her feet and for a moment she did not reply. "His name was Alexander. He was an important man," she said at last. "He worked in the Governor's palace in Londinium. He took me there once. We met the Governor. I didn't like him. He was so fat and ugly and rude."

  Corbulo nodded. "And your father gave you this satchel?"

  Christiana nodded. "He gave it to me just before Efa came to fetch me. He said that I should look after it very carefully and I have."

  Corbulo managed a smile. "You did well Christiana, you did very well. Your Dad would be proud of you."

  "He's dead isn't he?" Christiana said.

  Corbulo glanced up at Efa and gestured for her to take Christiana away. A few moments later Efa returned alone and came to sit beside him. She looked concerned.

  "What do the letters say?" she inquired.

  Corbulo sighed. "These letters mean trouble, a lot of trouble, more than you can imagine." Corbulo gave his wife a tense glance. "This one here, "he said picking up a scroll from his lap, "is from Lucius Antonius Saturninus, Governor of the province of Germania Superior and commander of the Fourteenth Gemina and the Twenty First Rapax Legions who are based at Monguntiacum. The letter is addressed to Governor Sallustius Lucullus of the province of Britannia. This one here is from Marcus Ulpius Traianus, Legate of the Seventh Gemina Legion in Hispania and these other three are from leading Senators in Rome. They are all addressed to Governor Lucullus and from their seals, I would say that they are genuine."

  Corbulo paused and stared moodily at the fire.

  "The seals were broken when I found them," he murmured, "So we are not the first to have read these letters. I bet my life savings that Christiana's father managed to read them too and that it was he who stole the letters. In Londinium Falco, the banker told me that a Christian named Alexander had stolen a letter from the Governor's palace. Why Christiana's father stole them is beyond me, he must had had his own reasons, but it explains the whole sudden pogrom against the Christians back in Londinium and it also explains why the Procurator is involved."

  Efa was staring at him intently. "What do the letters say?" she said.

  Corbulo sighed again and turned to look at his wife. "They are plotting rebellion," he said, "the letters are discussing a revolt against the Emperor in Rome. Saturninus is driving it but he has support from many Senators and it looks like Traianus and our own Governor Lucullus have joined him. They all hate Domitian. They want him dead. There is going to be an attempt on Domitian's life soon. They don't give details but it's clear that the Senators are going to try and murder the Emperor. After that Saturninus plans to march on Rome and proclaim himself Emperor. Together with Lucullus and Traianus he will control seven Legions. Saturninus even talks about bringing in some of the Germanic tribes from across the Rhine as allies." Corbulo paused. "You can understand why the Governor is so desperate to retrieve these letters. He is a dead man if the Emperor were ever to find out about this. He will do anything to keep this a secret."

  Efa was silent for a moment as she digested Corbulo's words. Then she frowned.

  "I understand why the Governor wants to get these letters back," she said, "but what about the Procurator? Isn't he just in charge of money and taxes?"

  "The Procurator, Classicus," Corbulo replied patiently, "may be just in charge of raising taxes but he is also Domitian's man in the province. The Procurator reports directly to the Emperor and the Emperor alone. His loyalty is to the Emperor and any threats against Domitian are very much his concern. He is the Emperor’s eyes and ears and it is part of his job to keep Domitian informed of threats against his person. Classicus must somehow have got wind of what is happening but without the letters he has no proof. That's why he is after them." Corbulo paused. "If this rebellion succeeds and Domitian is assassinated then the Procurator is a dead man just by his close association with the Emperor. He knows this. He too is a desperate man. The Governor and he hate each other. Classicus will be the first man to be executed if the rebellion succeeds."

  Efa was staring at Corbulo in alarm.

  "So we are not safe," she muttered, "the children are not safe?"

  Corbulo nodded sourly. "Powerful and desperate men are the most dangerous of all men. They are going to keep on looking for us," he said quietly.

  "Then we should destroy the letters," Efa exclaimed, "Throw them into the fire Corbulo, let's be done with this evil once and for all."

  But Corbulo shook his head. "No," he said, "Destroying the letters will not help us. The Governor and the Procurator will never believe us. They will suspect that we have read the contents, that we are hiding the letters. They will suspect that everything around us will know about the plot. The Governor will kill us all, just as a precaution, just to keep this secret and if the Procurator finds us, the Governor will kill him too if he gets the chance."

  "Then what?" Efa said, with a hint of desperation in her voice.

  Corbulo turned to stare at the fire. For a long moment he remained silent.

  "I don't know," he said at last, "I need to speak with Marcus about this. I will go to Luguvalium, Carlisle, tomorrow to discuss the matter with him. Marcus, my son has a good head, he may know what to do."

  Efa looked down at the ground. Then she nodded and looked up.

  "Aidan wants to see you," she said quickly, rising to her feet.

  ***

  Corbulo frowned as he stepped into the dimly lit round house. What did his father in law want? The summons to his home was highly unusual. His head was still spinning with what he had just learned from the letters and the interruption felt unwelcome but he could hardly refuse Aidan's request. A fire was burning in the centre of the hut and shadows were playing across the walls. Aidan and Efa's two cousins were sitting at a table. In the flickering light he could see their stern, unfriendly faces watching him. Then he noticed that they were all armed. He stopped and glanced around. There was no sign of the women or children who normally lived in this house. Behind him he suddenly heard a little noise. He whirled round and saw that Logan had moved to bar the doorway through which he had just come. Efa's brother too looked hostile and he was armed. Slowly Logan folded his arms across his chest. Corbulo turned quickly to face Aidan as his hand dropped to the pommel of his sword. W
hat was this? Were they about to try and kill him after all?

  For a long moment the round house was silent. Then slowly Aidan rose to his feet and Efa's cousins did the same. Corbulo stood rooted to the ground. Aidan nodded at one of the cousins who stooped to drag something out from under the table.

  "Now we shall see what kind of man you really are," Aidan snapped, staring Corbulo straight in the eye, as the other cousin slammed five crude wooden cups onto the table. Corbulo blinked in surprise as he saw one of the cousins roll a large cask into the fire light.

  "We are going to drink, you and I," Aidan growled as he handed Corbulo a stool, "and the man who cannot take his mead is going to spend the night with the pigs."

  Chapter Seventeen - Luguvalium

  To Corbulo the barren treeless mountains were breathtakingly beautiful. He glanced up at their jagged, rocky and lofty peaks, unable to look away as he rode his horse along the bank of the river. A yellow flower he'd picked up along the way dangled on a cord around his neck. It was morning and he was alone. Three days had passed since he'd said farewell to Efa, Dylis and the children. Efa had been nervous, constantly picking at her finger nails and Dylis had cried but he'd told them not to worry. Everything would come right in the end. As for Aidan, he'd not come to say goodbye but Logan had and that had been enough. Down in the valley the land was heavily wooded, lush and green and the river swollen and fed by the little streams of melting snow water that came down the steep slopes like white veins. He'd not seen a single person all morning and he'd lost count of the number of lakes he'd seen on his journey north. The last person he'd run into, had assured him that Luguvalium, Carlisle was only half a day's ride away. That had been yesterday. He wrenched his gaze away from the mountain peaks and glanced at the dark forest around him. The fir trees stood close together, an impenetrable maze, the perfect hiding place for an ambush and the terrain reminded him of Caledonia. He grunted. Had it really been nearly two years since he and Marcus had fled south pursued by that bloody thirsty Caledonian vixen? How time had flown.