Marcus, his son was twenty-two. Wearily Corbulo shook his head. Marcus and he were friends now but that had not always been the case and there had been a time, after his first wife's death, when the two of them had been estranged. Corbulo felt a sudden flutter of nerves. The estrangement had been his fault. The rawness of that time had still not fully healed and he wasn't sure what to expect when he reached Luguvalium. But despite that he was looking forward to seeing his son again. He sighed and urged his horse on down the forest path. Marcus, the bastard by his first wife, had wanted to follow him into the army but because the army would not allow active soldiers to marry, Marcus had not inherited his father's Roman citizenship and therefore had been unable to apply for the Legions. Instead the boy had been accepted into the Second Batavian Auxiliary Cohort and had fought at the battle of Mons Graupius in Caledonia under the then Governor Agricola. The last news that Corbulo had received was that his unit had been posted to the fort at Luguvalium. Corbulo raised his hand to his mouth and picked at one his remaining teeth. It had been months since he'd last seen his boy. He tapped his finger gently against the tooth. He had missed Marcus's company. The last time they'd met, at the festival of Saturnalia in the midst of winter, had been far too short.
"Come on horse," Corbulo bellowed urging the beast on down the path, "Move your lazy four legs."
***
It was morning on the next day when Luguvalium finally came into view. Corbulo brought his horse to a halt as he studied the small settlement, the most north- westerly town in the Empire and four hundred and forty three thousand paces from Londinium. The fort and the little settlement that clung to it, nestled in between the Eden and a tributary river. The place looked tranquil and the surrounding fields and forests lush, fertile and promising. It was good land. Corbulo however looked grim. This was not the first time he'd been here and the memories weren't particularly pleasant. The local Brigantian tribe led by their leader Luguvalos had refused to accept Roman rule and during the winter of seventy-two they had broken out into open rebellion. The Brigantes had put up ferocious resistance, ambushing supply columns and patrols and conducting hit and run raids on Roman settlers until finally that following spring, reinforcements from the Twentieth had managed to crush them. Governor Cerialis had been ruthless, ordering the captured tribesmen to be garrotted and Corbulo had witnessed the execution of the prisoners and had seen the scores of bodies dumped into the Eden River. The only thing that seemed to have survived from that rebellion had been Luguvalos's name. Corbulo glanced uneasily at the fertile fields and distant forest. Resentment against Rome still smouldered in the hearts of many Britons who had survived the Roman conquest and if they found the right leader that resentment could easily burst out into another rebellion. There was a reason why fifty two thousand Roman soldiers and auxiliaries were needed to keep the peace in the province of Britannia. How different to Gaul where not a single Legion was needed to keep the peace.
Corbulo urged his horse up the road towards the river. The Roman fort was clearly visible. It lay just north of a small tributary river and was surrounded by the customary V shaped ditch and a timber and turf rampart from which protruded four watch towers. Close to the southern gate-house a few huts and round houses marked out the civilian settlement that had grown up around the fort. Smoke was rising up from a few of them. As he approached along the road he could hear a blacksmith at work and the noise of children playing by the river.
The wooden gates to the fort were open and a detachment of Batavians, tall blond men clad in their typical auxiliary armour and helmets and armed with flat shields and long hastae thrusting spears, were lounging about around the gateway. They peered at him warily. Corbulo raised his hand in greeting and dismounted stiffly. The Batavians said nothing as Corbulo grasped his horse by its harness and led it towards the gate.
"It's allright lads," Corbulo said, "I am here to see Marcus. He's the only red haired man amongst you so you shouldn't have any difficulty in knowing who he is."
One of the Batavians, a giant of man with piercing blue eyes came towards him.
"You mean Marcus, the Decurion?" the soldier said in a thick guttural Germanic accent.
Corbulo raised his eyebrows. "Decurion?" he muttered to himself. "Well, well."
"Who are you?" the Batavian asked.
Corbulo gave the soldiers a cautious glance. "Tell Marcus that an old friend has come to pay him a visit," he replied.
The Batavian studied Corbulo for a moment. Then he turned and gestured to one of his comrades.
"Wait here," the Batavian said.
Corbulo turned to stroke his horse gently on its nose. He had to be careful. If the Procurator or the Governor's men had already visited Luguvalium then it would be dangerous for him to use his name. He pretended to busy himself with his horse as he waited for Marcus. He was oblivious to the man watching him from the doorway of the nearby round house.
***
Marcus looked annoyed when he finally came stomping through the gate holding his helmet tucked under his arm, but his expression changed to one of weary resignation as he caught sight of his father. He was tall handsome man of twenty- two, red haired and clad in armour and a long cavalry sword, a Spatha, hung from his belt. Corbulo grinned as they briefly embraced.
"Father," Marcus acknowledged him with a stiff little nod. "What are you doing here? They told me an old friend had come to pay me a visit. Why didn't you just announce yourself?"
Corbulo glanced quickly at the Batavians who were watching them. Then he took Marcus by the arm and led him away from the gatehouse.
"Keep your voice down son," Corbulo said gently, "It's best that people don't know that I am here."
Marcus stopped and sighed.
"You are in trouble again aren't you," he said wearily.
"No," Corbulo said defensively but Marcus shook his head. "Oh yes you are, I can tell. It's just like the old days isn't it when we had to hide the Centurion's money and pretend we hadn't seen you for a week when he came to pay us a visit. That was a lot of fun."
Corbulo broke out into an embarrassed smile. He opened his mouth to say something. Then he hesitated.
"You are right," he said quietly, "I am in trouble but it's not what you think. Come let's go for a walk, I need to talk to you."
Marcus turned to look towards the fort with a thoughtful expression.
"I should have known something was going on," he murmured. "It's a pretty lonely and remote posting up here and apart from a few despatch riders and traders we don't get many visitors, so imagine my surprise when a few days ago Gnaeus Julius Agricola, ex Governor of Britannia arrived to pay us a visit."
Corbulo's face rapidly drained of colour.
"Agricola," he exclaimed, "The Agricola?"
"Yes," Marcus said cheerfully pointing towards the fort, "he's over there. He's been staying in the commander's quarters and guess what? On the first day that he arrived he came to find me, not to ask me about my experiences in Caledonia, but to ask me if I knew where you were. He seems very keen on finding you. I think that is the only reason he has come up here. He's planning to head back south tomorrow."
"Agricola?" Corbulo muttered looking puzzled. He turned to gaze at the Batavians lounging about around the gate. "So what did you tell him?"
"I told him that you were in Londinium. That's where you live, don't you?"
Corbulo raised his eyebrows. "So what was his reaction?"
Marcus shrugged. "He didn't say anything after that, apart from to tell me that he really wanted to speak with you as soon as possible and that I was to report to him if I saw you. He wasn't too polite either. I suspect that you have done something to piss him off. He told me that he'd come a long way to find you."
Corbulo's face darkened and he muttered something to himself. Then before Marcus could say another word Corbulo was dragging him away from the fort.
"Come let's go for a walk," Corbulo snapped. "Is she still here?"
"She i
s," Marcus replied lowering his eyes to the ground.
The two of them strode northwards meandering in between the huts and round houses of the civilian settlement. The dull metallic ring of a blacksmith at work merged with the shrieks of playing children and the smell of pig manure was strong and heady. A couple of old women, clad entirely in black sat on little stools outside the doors of their homes squinting silently at them as they passed by. Around the back of the last hut two men were trying to repair a broken chariot. A new wheel lay in the grass waiting to be fitted. The men paid no attention to Corbulo and Marcus other than to shout at the pack of barking dogs to be quiet. The beasts had been tied to a tree and obediently fell silent as their quick, eager eyes watched Marcus and Corbulo head out across the fields towards the bridge over the Eden River.
"Jupiter's cock," Marcus swore in astonishment as Corbulo finished telling him about what had happened in Londinium and on their journey north and the discovery of the plot against the Emperor.
Corbulo nodded as he picked at a tooth. "The Governor and the Procurator need those letters," he muttered. "They are going to keep looking for them. Efa and the children will never be safe and neither will I until this matter is resolved. I wish I had never come across those damned scrolls but now I am stuck with them. I have to find a way out of this."
"So you killed Bestia," Marcus said staring at Corbulo with an incredulous look.
"Well I needed a bit of help," Corbulo replied sourly.
"You just can't stay out of trouble can you," Marcus said shaking his head. "So now you want my advice? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn't it be the son coming to the father for advice?"
"Well you can always ask me if you want," Corbulo said defensively.
Irritated Marcus held up his hand and closed his eyes.
"It's allright," he said sharply, "I can manage." He paused. "I have a woman in the town and I have a son of my own now. The boy was born a few weeks ago. I have named him Fergus, after my mother's father. I thought you should know."
Corbulo came to an abrupt halt and turned to stare at Marcus in surprise.
"You have a son?" he said quietly, "You said nothing about this when I last saw you at Saturnalia during the winter."
"Are you not pleased for me?" Marcus replied.
Corbulo opened his mouth. "Fergus," he said the name out loud. "You decided to choose a British name then for your son?"
Marcus nodded.
Corbulo frowned and looked down at the ground. For a long moment he was silent. Then he looked up and slapped Marcus against his shoulder as a broad smile appeared on his face.
"Excellent news, congratulations, Fergus, it is a good name. I would like to see him."
Marcus looked relieved. "So you shall," he said quietly, "Soon."
"And they have promoted you to Decurion."
"Yes," Marcus said as a hint of pride appeared on his face. "We lost one of the officers to illness over the winter so there was a position that needed filling. I was just lucky."
"So you didn't have to..." Corbulo made a crude gesture with his mouth and hands.
"No, of course not," Marcus said with a horrified look. "What kind of unit do you think the 2nd Batavians are?"
***
The Roman bridge across the Eden was a sturdy looking pile bridge and the fort at Luguvalium had been built to protect this important river crossing. On the southern bank a fortified watchtower had been constructed and on its upper level two auxiliaries were on guard duty. Corbulo glanced up at the soldiers as they leaned out over the wooden balustrade, staring at the river with bored expressions. Their flat shields and spears stood propped up against the wooden tower wall. Corbulo felt a sudden cool breeze on his face as he stepped out onto the bridge. The river was swollen but it was not very wide and on the northern bank the dense forest came right up to the water's edge. The gravel road vanished off to the north in a straight line disappearing over a hill. Corbulo glanced at the fast flowing river water. The last time he'd seen the Eden it had been filled with floating corpses.
"There is something else that you should know," Marcus said breaking the silence. "We have received orders. The whole Cohort, all eight hundred and fifty of us have been ordered south to Deva. We are just waiting for the Ninth Batavians to arrive to take our place before we leave."
"Why, what's happening at Deva?" Corbulo said.
"I don't really know," Marcus muttered, "but there is a rumour that a battle group is being formed for an invasion of Hibernia. They say the 2nd Batavians are going to be part of it."
Corbulo grunted in surprise.
"Well well, maybe our Governor has got more balls than I thought," he replied. "It makes sense I suppose, we can't just allow Elim the Hibernian High King to mock us and freely grant asylum to the enemies of Rome."
"Apparently they want to teach the Hibernians a lesson," Marcus said, "The raids on our coast have increased in the past year. It's got to stop."
"Yes," Corbulo said, "I have heard talk of this."
They reached the northern bank and Corbulo paused to take a deep breath. For a moment he stared down at the ground. Then he glanced at Marcus but his son looked away. A strange tension seemed to settle over them as they silently started up the road. A little way from the riverbank beside a small rise in the ground Corbulo halted and turned towards the forest. A few paces from the roadside but still with a clear view of the river stood a solitary gravestone. Corbulo sighed as he knelt down beside the grave and gently touched the stone with his fingers. Behind him he could sense Marcus watching him. The sandstone had an engraving in it and Corbulo read it out loud.
"To the spirits of the departed. Here lies Alene a much-loved mother and wife. Like you are, I was. Like I am, you will be. This memorial was erected by Marcus and Corbulo."
Corbulo fell silent as he looked upon the grave of his first wife. He and Marcus had agreed that if they managed to escape from Caledonia they would erect a gravestone to her and Marcus had decided that it should be here at Luguvalium with a view of the river so that her spirit could find its way home. Corbulo reached inside his tunic and retrieved the yellow flower he'd plucked on his way to Luguvalium and placed it beside the stone. Then he rose to his feet and turned to look at Marcus.
"I am sorry," he said, "She did not deserve her fate. But I hope her spirit rests freely now and that she forgives me."
Marcus nodded silently and turned to look at the river.
The sudden snorting of a horse made both Corbulo and Marcus turn round. Two horsemen clad in long black cloaks sat on their beasts at the edge of the forest just across the road. Corbulo took a step in their direction, hesitated and laid his hand on the pommel of his sword. The two riders did not move. They looked like men who knew how to fight. Then more hooded horsemen emerged from the forest. One of the men urged his horse straight towards Corbulo. The beast’s hooves clattered on the stone paving stones of the road and beside him Corbulo sensed Marcus reach for his sword. Quickly he raised his hand in warning.
"No, son," he said quietly.
"Well well so I was right after all," the hooded stranger said in perfect Latin, "find the son, find the father. So this long journey has not been a huge waste of time after all."
The man flung back his hood. "Remember me?" he exclaimed.
Corbulo stood his ground. For a moment he did not reply. "Yes Sir I do," Corbulo said at last, "You are still the same prick who nearly had us all killed at Mona Insulis and who sent my son into the trackless wastes of Caledonia."
"Good to see you too Corbulo," Agricola snapped with a faint grin. "But you forget that it was I as Legate of the Twentieth and your commanding officer who saved your hairy arse in the year of the four Emperors."
The ex Governor of Britannia and victor of Mons Graupius looked slightly fatter than when Corbulo had last seen him in Rome two years ago. The man was in his late forties with short black-hair, clean-shaven cheeks and his keen, intelligent eyes took in every
detail. To his right and left, Agricola's men walked their horse’s forwards until Corbulo and Marcus were surrounded.
"You are far from home Sir. What do you want from me?" Corbulo said.
"Oh I think you know what I want," Agricola snapped. "If it wasn't for you and that great bleeding heart of yours I would still be enjoying the sun on my estates in Gallia Narbonensis."
Corbulo shrugged and turned to Marcus.
"Do you know what the fuck he's talking about?"
Marcus did not reply. His hand was on the pommel of his sword as he was staring tensely at the riders around them.
"Stop playing games Corbulo," Agricola said, "We know you helped those Christian children to escape from Londinium. We know that one of those children was carrying letters stolen from Governor Lucullus's palace. We know that you have those scrolls. I want them back and I want them now."
"Well you have been busy," Corbulo snapped, "But how do you know all this? Who has been feeding you all this information?"
"Governor Sallustius Lucullus," Agricola said as a note of anger entered his voice, "He told me everything. One of the Christians in the Governor's prison killed himself before he could be interrogated but Lucullus suspected that he had passed the letters on to his daughter. She was one of the children that you helped escape. The rest of the information was obtained by Lucullus's men. How they managed to do that is not my concern. I am just here for the letters. Now give them to me and you will walk away with your lives."
Corbulo stared at Agricola, his face suddenly emotionless.
"Well I am sorry but I can't do that Sir," Corbulo said quietly, "You see a good friend of mine, who had nothing to do with this, was murdered by the Governor's men, the same men who came looking for those scrolls. It's a matter of honour Sir. If I give you those letters without anything in return I will be spitting on his grave."
"So you have them," Agricola growled with a hint of triumph.
Hibernia (Veteran of Rome Book 2) Page 14
