The WIglaff Tales (The Wiglaff Chronicles Book 1)

by E. W. Farnsworth

  “You’re probably right. That doesn’t mean we need to kill each other. I’d much rather that we cooperate by killing evil men or by agreeing not to kill good men, which amounts to the same thing.”

  Boadicea laughed. “You have a way with words. I can understand why they sent you to convince people to give money to your god. Perhaps you can tell me what you plan to demonstrate once we get to the cavern on the mountain. If you go slowly, I’ll be able to follow your logic. We’ve still got a way to go.”

  “I might as well tell you. Of course if you’re going to stay at the cavern, you can see the demonstration yourself. Here goes.”

  Alma launched into a highly technical description of her demonstration. She discussed how it fit in what she called the architecture of public celebration for the god Mercury. She ended her description with a simple statement. “Mercury is called quicksilver because, like the metal named for him, he slides easily over a surface and beads up in ways that the beads can recombine. When we find a resting place, I’ll show you what I mean.”

  Boadicea was enthralled by Alma’s accounts. She had focused hard on every word the priestess said. When she needed clarification, she asked questions and Alma answered them directly.

  It was late afternoon when the pair ascended the mountain. Boadicea saw that Alma would not make it up the slope with the blindfold on, so she took it off. She removed the tether as well. As they went up the slope, the sun set, making the sky an orange and purple ceiling with the golden sun falling behind the endless forest.

  “Boadicea, the sunset is simply beautiful. I’d like to carry the case with the vials now if you don’t mind. It’s enough for you to manage the scroll case.”

  The warrior gladly handed the heavy case to Alma.

  Then, taking the lead, Boadicea said, “We’re only walking halfway up the mountain. Watch out for animals, but don’t hurt the wolf pups if they come growling at you. They’re Mornow’s pets. He’d be heartbroken if any were hurt.”

  Alma took in the scenery with new eyes. She had been deprived of vision during the journey. Now she was seeing a new world that was fading fast as the daylight failed. Just as the sun disappeared below the tree line, Boadicea said, “We’re here. I’ll go inside and tell the welcoming committee.”

  Wiglaff and Mornow emerged from the cavern to welcome Alma and make her feel at home.

  Wiglaff said, “We’re glad you’re here, Alma. Put your things in the back right corner of the cavern. That’ll be your work place. You’ll not sleep here, but down below in my wife Onya’s hut. Boadicea will take you down the mountain in a few minutes and bring you back up tomorrow morning.”

  Mornow said, “Just don’t harm my animals or disturb my own experiments and I’ll be happy. I can hardly wait to see your demonstration.”

  Alma wasn’t listening. Instead she walked back to see Mornow’s crow, which flew up and landed on her shoulder. She nuzzled the bird’s beak and cawed to it. The bird became excited and flapped its wings.

  “I saw you playing with this bird in a vision I had while in my temple.”

  “Watch out, cousin, Alma has designs on you.” She sounded concerned for her cousin.

  “Don’t worry, Boadicea. I know all about her designs. What I don’t know are the secret rituals that turn quartz into gold. I guess I’ll learn about those soon.”

  Alma smiled and said, “Mornow, I brought my experiment materials, but I also brought a gift for Wiglaff. Boadicea, where did you put the manuscript scroll box?”

  The warrior raised the box in her right hand. Alma took it from her and handed it to Wiglaff.

  “These are the scrolls of the historian Tacitus,” she said. “I can help you understand them.”

  “Thank you, Alma. I’ll include them in my library. We’ll discuss them later. Now you must descend to the village. Dinner awaits you and a quiet place to sleep. It’ll not have the finery you’re accustomed to, but it will satisfy your needs.”

  “I’m sure it will. Thank you. Mornow, I don’t think I should take your crow with me.”

  Mornow laughed and snapped his fingers. The crow flew from her shoulder to his.

  Boadicea lit a taeda, a pine torch, and marched forward into the night. Alma turned to follow Boadicea out the cavern’s mouth and down the mountain path to the village. There she met Onya and Wiglaff’s entire family. After introductions, they shared a large, hot dinner.

  Alma, though technically an enemy, was treated with typical Caledonian hospitality because she was a guest. Onya showed Alma where she could find water and freshen up in privacy behind a wattle fence in back of the hut. Then she showed her the place where she should sleep. Exhausted by her travels, Alma sank onto the thick piles of rushes, animal hides and skins on the floor and instantly fell asleep.

  Chapter Five

  Imperial Negotiations

  According to Dio Cassius, the historian, Septimius Severus had six dreams:

  “(1) He was suckled by a she-wolf like Romulus. (2) Marcus Aurelius’ wife Faustina prepared his wedding chamber in the Temple of Venus near the imperial palace. (3) Water flowed from his hand. (4) The whole Roman Empire saluted him. (5) He played on the whole world like a musical instrument. (6) A horse threw Pertinax in the forum and Septimius mounted it.”

  William V. Harris. Dreams and Experience in Classical Antiquity. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009.

  The Roman Empire had many troubles outside Caledonia. Spread over a majority of the known world, it was attacked at all its extremities. Funding incessant warfare was increasingly difficult, while exacting greater tribute alienated already subjugated peoples and made them rebellious. Finally, in the north of Britannia a stalemate was forced. Only a few scouting parties ventured north beyond Hadrian’s Wall while Caledonian raids across the Wall continued.

  The Emperor’s propaganda masked his gross incompetence. He had taken his two sons, Caracalla and Geta, to campaign against the Caledonians because he thought they would learn about warfare by fighting against the savage tribes of north Britannia. As the Roman losses mounted, Septimius Severus tried to carve the Province of Britannia into a northern sector and a southern sector. The ploy gained him nothing but more notoriety. Using senatorial funding as well as black funding through other sources, some of them religious, he amassed an enormous number of troops and materiel for his big push beyond the Wall to the north.

  This carefully planned campaign, he thought, would guarantee subjugation of the entirety of Caledonia. His court was full of intrigues and plots, but the Emperor refused to think his internal threats were serious. With good reason he discounted the city of Rome itself as a factor when his minions managed public opinion in his favor. As an elder statesman and military hero, he knew the right men to commission to tell his invented stories and keep the center of his empire in thrall.

  Meanwhile, within the Caledonian Confederation complacency had become general. The tribes and villages were beginning to fight against each other again because they thought the threat of a Roman invasion had passed. Intelligence to the contrary provided by the likes of Wiglaff and Winna was spurned. The shaman was thought to be insane, and no woman, they thought, could have a firm grasp of the strategic situation.

  The sources of Wiglaff’s intelligence were, fortunately, not known on either side of the Wall. Chief among those was Alma, the Roman spy who had been turned and now worked for the Caledonian Confederation. Through her Wiglaff could inject disinformation about the northern tribes. Simultaneously, through her Wiglaff could get first-rate information about the status of the buildup of the Emperor’s forces and the politics of his wicked court.

  Alma broke up and crushed her quartz samples with a hammer as she discussed the situation with Wiglaff and Mornow.

  “The Emperor’s sons are plotting against him. Caracalla is a parricide by nature, but his father won’t listen to anyone trying to tell him the truth about his son’s perfidy. Once the evidence was overwhelmingly against Caracalla. Wha
t did the Emperor do? He unsheathed his sword and gave it to his son, asking him to kill him at once if he desired his death. He did this in front of his entire court. The son broke down and cried. His father actually forgave him. I don’t know which I hated most, the son’s betrayal or the father’s blind forgiveness. After that, Caracalla confessed the names of everyone involved in his plot to assassinate the Emperor. Like a slow grinding machine, the Emperor’s people tortured and killed the conspirators to the last man.”

  She paused while she considered her work with the hammer. She smiled in satisfaction.

  “There, I’ve pulverized the quartz. Now I’m going to introduce the quicksilver, the metal of Mercury. Mornow, I want you to see this magical substance.”

  Alma poured a few drops of the shiny gray liquid in her hand. The drops flowed and beaded together. She separated the unified mass, and the pieces came back together again. In an empty container, she dropped the liquid and rapidly adjusted its orientation, showing how the quicksilver ran from side to side as rapidly as she tipped it this way and that.

  “Now I’m going to mix the quicksilver with the crushed quartz.” She poured the quicksilver into the quartz and stirred the mass with a metal rod while shaking the container.

  “What’s going to happen now is the quicksilver will find gold wherever it is in the mixture and dissolve it. The result will be a liquid of quicksilver and gold combined, or amalgamated. Then I’ll heat the amalgam, and the quicksilver will disappear. Only the gold will remain. While I’m doing the heating, no one should breathe the fumes. In fact, I’m going to move outside the entrance to the cavern to heat the substance. Mornow, I want you to wave a blanket at the apparatus so the smoke goes outside the cavern and not inside it.”

  Wiglaff asked, “Will any quartz crystals work to make the gold?”

  Alma frowned and answered, “No. The pinkish quartz with the golden lines and droplets is best. In Mercury’s religious ceremonies, the roseate quartz often has golden droplets as large as the first digit of your thumb. I’ve seen demonstrations go badly because there was no gold in the quartz in the first place. Finding no gold after the process is a very bad omen.”

  Mornow said, “I’ve heard rumors of a secret network of gold mines in Hispania. Those mines are worked by slaves who never return to tell tales. Being sent to work in the mines is a death sentence. What do you know about that?” Mornow’s motives in asking this question were complex. He was genuinely curious but needed the intelligence too. The cruelty of the Empire was no surprise to anyone.

  “I’ve often speculated on the source of the quartz we use in our temple rites. The Empire has gold mines all over the world. Of course, the Emperor owns all the gold. No one knows how much gold he harvests each year from his mines. That’s a state secret. The number of criminals and slaves who work the mines is also unknown. I believe at least one mine is now working in Britannia. Like the ancient Carthaginian tin mines, its operations go back to a time before Romans first came to Britannia.”

  Wiglaff said, “Surely the calculations of tribute account for a system of mines in Britannia, not only active mines but more recent finds that can become mines. Caledonia has riches aplenty, like our forests, fertile soil and clean water. I’d like to know where the prospective mines are. That might give us a good idea about the Emperor’s schedule for his invasion.”

  “During the slave wars, Marius said that no man could afford a standing army. Maybe the same goes for an empire.” Mornow was musing about the big picture.

  “This Empire thrives because people think it can go on forever. They believe in their hearts that the Emperor is magnanimous because he owns all the gold in the world.”

  “Alma, the myths that busy the minds of the Roman Empire will one day be shattered.”

  “Perhaps, Wiglaff, but no one can say which day that will be.” She took her eyes off her work, standing up and stretching. “I’m ready to move to the entrance. Mornow, please bring the blanket to fan the flames and keep the fumes outside.”

  Suddenly everyone was in motion to do as Alma directed. Alma went to the entrance. Mornow brought the blanket he was using as a fan.

  “How many priests and priestesses of Mercury have died doing demonstrations like the one we’re doing today?”

  “A great many have died. I’ve always been careful, but others haven’t. In some of the mines, to save time quicksilver was used deep underground to separate the gold. Many miners died, and the fumes contaminated the mines so no more mining could be accomplished before expensive air flow systems were introduced. Arguments about the financing led to using more and more slaves without providing the air flow systems. Slaves died in the mines. Criminals replaced the slaves. The criminals died. In the end, the mines had to be abandoned as unprofitable.”

  “Are mines ever played out of ore?” Wiglaff asked.

  “When they are considered unprofitable, they are flooded, with all the slaves and criminals inside them. That way, no one can tell tales. The Empire is a great devouring beast, consuming or killing everything it touches.” She said this with revulsion as well as resignation. What could she do about the immensity of the evil in the Empire? She had been too close to the center of the imperial power to be any more afraid than she usually was.

  “Alma, you’re sounding like a Caledonian now.”

  “Keep fanning, Mornow. Don’t let any fumes head back into the cavern. Even a whiff can affect your mind’s processes. I wouldn’t want your prescient powers to be affected for mere gold.” She smiled at him, and he fanned harder.

  The result of Alma’s demonstration was a small golden nugget. Wiglaff and Mornow congratulated her. She modestly declined to take responsibility for the effort.

  “This process is what I’ve been trained for. I only wanted you to see it. Some people want to talk about spirits and essences. I see the process as mechanical. How it all works is incidental to me. What happened here is the same process that is being used in the Levant, in Africa, in Spain and somewhere even here in Britannia every day.”

  Wiglaff said, “After we clean up this mess, we’ll be through for the day. Tomorrow perhaps we can look at the scrolls you brought me. I’d also like to know more about the Emperors’ sons.”

  “I can tell you about Caracalla and Geta while I clean up,” Alma said while gathering her implements by the right side to the entrance of the cave. “They’re both vicious and immature. Caracalla is his father’s heir.” She sounded disdainful, as though she thought Caracalla was not a worthy heir. “It won’t be long before he kills his younger brother to eliminate any competition. He’s obsessed with numbering his father’s failings. Brought to Britannia so he could learn about warfare, Caracalla has only been impressed with his father’s military defeats. The insurgency is wearing everyone down here, and Rome is being kept in the dark about what’s really happening.”

  “How does Rome learn about events in Britannia?” Wiglaff asked her as he examined the crucibles she had used for her demonstration.

  “The Emperor’s toadies write what he wants to promulgate. The system works very well. If someone makes the Emperor into a hero, he is richly rewarded. If even the slightest criticism is detected, the writer loses his living and often his life.” She shrugged as if to suggest that sycophancy was general in imperial circles.

  “Surely someone in the Roman Senate heads a faction that opposes the Severan family,” Mornow suggested.

  Alma thought about that for a moment. Then she shrugged and said, “The satirist Juvenal wrote that every tyranny needs to cultivate its own detractors, or words to that effect. The opposition’s scripts are written by the Emperor’s scribes in the same way as his own apologies are. So he controls what everyone in Rome thinks.”

  Wiglaff said, “At our last count, over fifty thousand Roman soldiers have died trying to defeat the Caledonian Confederacy. When soldiers die, their families have to be told something.”

  “That’s true,” Alma said. “They’re to
ld their sons died for the greater glory of Rome. They’re paid richly in gold. Many are better off than if the hero had returned home alive, where there is no work and no respect for veterans.”

  “Mornow and I will try to envision where Rome is heading and what kinds of intrigues will best serve the Caledonian cause.”

  Mornow nodded. “I’ve been dreaming of a ruthless plot that must be underway right now. I’ll focus on that particularly. What more do we need to do by way of cleaning up this afternoon?”

  “We’ve finished. Will you take me to the top of the mountain before I go down to the hut for the night?” She was looking at Mornow when she asked this. Her question sounded more like an order than a request.

  Wiglaff smiled at Mornow as if to say, “I told you to beware of her.”

  “I’ll bring my crow along,” he said. The crow heard the reference and hopped onto Mornow’s shoulder.

  Mornow and Alma walked out of the cavern and turned to the left on the path that ran up to the summit. The crow cawed as the man and woman conversed. It sounded like a three-way conversation to an outsider like Wiglaff. He chuckled, and then he began to assess the situation.

  First, Wiglaff sat wondering what had been learned in today’s demonstration. Alma’s an adept priestess in the mechanical sense. She’s well practiced in her magic ritual that turns quartz into gold. Of course, the gold she finds is in the quartz before she begins her ritual. No gold is created from nothing. The quicksilver is the solvent. It’s also deadly. I wonder how much of a residue of the quicksilver adheres to the gold product. Maybe I’ll ask Alma about that later. She’s apparently not much of a thinker or philosopher. I may discover more about her mental capabilities when we look at the scrolls. She may be a talented analyst. We’ll see about that.