Veterans of Rome (Book 9 of the Veteran of Rome Series)

by William Kelso

  “It feels good to be coming home doesn’t it,” a female voice said coming up behind him.

  Turning around Marcus saw Kyna. His wife was standing watching the coastline with a peaceful, contented look. For a moment Marcus peered at her. Leaving Ahern, her son behind in Rome had left Kyna unsettled and distraught for weeks but lately her old and quiet resolve seemed to have returned and for that, he was glad. Despite the summer weather Kyna had wrapped herself in a thick, white woollen cloak with a hood that was draped over her head. Slowly Marcus nodded as he turned his attention back to the coastline. Kyna was right. The view of the green island, his family’s home, was a most welcome sight after all these weeks at sea. He had not realised just how much he had missed the place.

  Ignoring his wife, Marcus gazed at the coastline. To the west, towering cliffs rose up out of the sea. At his side Kyna stirred and quietly and contentedly slipped her arm under his, and for a while the two of them stood gazing out at the wide, long sandy beach where he had so often taken his dogs for walks and where Fergus had learned to swim. Alexandros, the captain was steering the little ship straight towards the marshy estuary that clove deep into the island’s north eastern coast. Once they were in the estuary he would be able to see the villa. They were nearly home and as he thought about that, Marcus suddenly lowered his eyes. His relationship with Dylis, his half-sister had not always been cordial. Often there had been friction between them. The girl was strong-minded, stubborn and unpredictable, traits he could only think she must have adopted from Corbulo. Gently Marcus rubbed his fingers as he tried to stop his left arm from shaking. He had agreed to legally split the ownership of the villa and the farmlands with her, but in all practical terms it was Dylis who ran the farm. It was she who had done all the hard work. It was she who had raised three children on the farm and had agreed to take in and look after Elsa, Armin, Ahern and Cunomoltus whilst he had been away serving in the army and in Rome. She had made it all work. It was she who had masterminded the expansion, the improvements and who had turned the place into a profitable business. He was the head of his family, but he was no farmer, nor was he suited for such enterprise. He was a soldier. That had been his profession. He could not claim to have built the family business. That was Dylis’s achievement. So, what would his half-sister make of his unexpected arrival? Marcus took a deep breath as he gazed at the coastline. Dylis had a right to be angry with him for through his actions he had put all she had ever cared for and built up - at risk. The deadly feud with Nigrinus had put everything at risk. That was his failure. His shame. His alone. He had placed their home, the lives of his whole family and that of the children in mortal danger. There had been barely any time to warn Dylis that he was coming apart from the messenger he’d sent to her as soon as Elsa had told him about stealing his gold. There had been no chance to tell her what had happened in Rome or about the disastrous feud with Nigrinus. The flight from Rome had been too chaotic, too sudden and too unexpected.

  ***

  As the anchor crashed down into the water, Marcus climbed up the ladder and onto the deckhouse roof where Alexandros, the one eyed Greek captain was standing beside the tiller, bellowing orders to his wife and Jodoc.

  “The waters are too shallow to go any further,” Alexandros growled as Marcus straightened up and turned to look around at the marshes that lined the banks of the small estuary. “I will lower the small boat and you will have to row ashore. You had better hurry. I want to leave on the next high tide.”

  Marcus nodded and for a moment he remained silent. “Thank you, old friend,” he said at last, in a quiet voice. “Without you and the Hermes I doubt we would have made it very far. Once again you have saved us. I will not forget. You and your family shall always have a friend and a home on this island.”

  “I know, I know,” Alexandros grunted before bellowing another instruction to his wife who was standing at the bow. “But we cannot stay. I want to make it to Londinium as soon as possible. I have work to do and the winds are favourable right now.”

  “You are still planning to go ahead? To return to Hyperborea?” Marcus asked, as a little impressed smile appeared on his lips.

  “Yes,” Alexandros replied. “In Londinium I am going to look for a crew and I need supplies. Now that the Hermes has been repaired and is seaworthy, I am going to sail her back across the western ocean. The plan is to leave in spring of next year. I am going to find that western passage to the land of the Chin and India. That is my dream, Marcus. I am going to open that new trade route and, with my newly acquired wealth I am going to build a trading company the likes Rome has never seen. And when I die Calista, my daughter and Jodoc shall continue the business and turn it into a dynasty.” With a determined look the one eyed Greek captain turned to Marcus. “I have toiled for others all my life. Now I have a chance to work for myself and that feels good my friend. That feels damn good. You wait and see. I am going to find that passage to the west. It exists. I know it does.”

  In reply Marcus reached out and laid his hand on Alexandros’s shoulder and nodded.

  “You are a brave man and I hope you make it,” Marcus replied. “But do me one favour. Come back to Vectis one last time before you leave on your voyage. To say goodbye. Will you do that Alexandros?”

  The big Greek Captain hesitated for a moment. Then quickly he nodded.

  “I will Marcus,” Alexandros said. “I will visit you before I leave and if you and your family want to come with me, we will have a place for you.”

  ***

  In the small wood that dominated the higher ground above the marshy estuary, the forest floor was covered in beautiful, colourful flowers and the warm, optimistic scent of summer was everywhere. Bees and butterflies buzzed and fluttered amongst the vegetation and, in the ancient trees, birds were calling out to each whilst small animals were rustling unseen in the undergrowth. Marcus, weighed down by the personal belongings they’d managed to take with them on their flight from Rome, led the way up the narrow forest path followed by Kyna, her slave girl and Indus, the burly Batavian bodyguard who was bringing up the rear. Above his head, through the gaps in the forest canopy, a fierce blue sky was hosting the sun and bathing the forest in glorious sunlight. Stoically Marcus peered ahead, hoping to get a glimpse of the villa, but the trees shielded the house from his eyes. It had been Corbulo, his father who had first settled his family here on Vectis, when the farm and its land had still belonged to Agricola, former governor of Britannia. Agricola had given Corbulo the task of looking after and managing the villa, for Agricola himself had spent very little time there, preferring his estates in the south of Gaul. Corbulo had died soon after and when Agricola too died some years later, the great man had given the house and its farmlands to Marcus in his will. Marcus had become the new and sole owner of the property. Marcus frowned. Agricola had never really explained his decision, but it must have been out of respect for Corbulo, a final recognition of his father’s loyalty to him. And when he died, Marcus thought, the house and its estates would pass on to Fergus as sole owner. Both he and Dylis had agreed on that.

  As he finally caught sight of the house through the trees, Marcus paused. In the sunlight the finely constructed stone villa with its smart red roof tiles and its wooden outhouses looked in good condition. All looked peaceful and well ordered. A thin column of smoke was rising from the kitchens. In their stables and pens Marcus could see horses, pigs and chickens and, out of sight, he could hear cows mooing. The rectangular house had been built on a gently rising slope and together with the stables, slaves’ quarters and agricultural storage buildings, it formed a courtyard that was enclosed on three sides. A rutted and unpaved track led away northwards and a simple wooden fence marked the boundary of the property. Nearby Marcus could see the remains of the old defensive palisade he’d once built to protect his home. But apart from that there was no sign left of the bad times that had once befallen the estate. Beyond the house to the west, a line of slaves were at work in fields fil
led with acres of golden wheat. The slaves were singing as they worked and nearer to him, standing beside the well, drawing water with a bucket, was a slave woman. Two of the slave woman’s young children were standing beside her, playing with a small leather ball. Turning his attention away from the house Marcus grunted in surprise. To the northwest of the house a chalk ridge of high ground rose sharply from the estuary and along its south-facing slopes were rows upon rows of neatly ordered vines. The vineyard was new. It had not been there the last time he’d been here. Dylis must have planted it in the past year. Did she really think she could produce wine in Britannia? Slowly Marcus shook his head. His half-sister was indeed full of surprises.

  Abruptly Marcus’s attention was wrenched away from the vineyard by loud barking. Bounding towards him across the field were two of his hunting dogs. A fond expression appeared on Marcus’s face as the dogs charged up to him and excitedly began whirling around his legs, sniffing, snapping and barking. A few moments later a cry rose from within the courtyard and a figure emerged from the house, paused and gazed in Marcus’s direction. Then swiftly the figure turned and in an excited voice shouted something into the house, before starting out towards Marcus. At the entrance into the villa a couple of figures rushed out of the doorway and came to a halt in the courtyard. All were staring at the newcomers. Then an excited shout rang out and the figures started to run towards him.

  “It’s Marcus. It’s Marcus and Kyna,” Cunomoltus cried out.

  As his half-brother reached Marcus, Cunomoltus was grinning with delight from ear to ear. Quickly and forcefully he embraced Marcus and then Kyna and then with a swift and sharp verbal command, he silenced the dogs. Cunomoltus was followed moments later by Dylis’s twins, their long blond hair decorated with summer flowers, their faces beaming with joy.

  “Gods Marcus, this is a welcome surprise,” Cunomoltus, gasped as he took a step backwards to look at him and Kyna. “We were not expecting to see you so soon. Is everything all right? Where is Ahern?”

  “Good to see you too brother,” Marcus said with a grin. Then he raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and opened his arms wide, giving each of Dylis’s twins an affectionate hug. The girls were no longer children. They had grown up. They had both turned eighteen last year. They had become young women Marcus thought, but he still found it hard to accept how quick they’d grown up.

  “You look beautiful, both of you,” Marcus said with a smile as he gazed fondly at his nieces. “Time to get you married soon, I reckon.”

  In response the girls quickly and nervously glanced at each other and blushed.

  “All well here?” Marcus asked turning back to Cunomoltus.

  Cunomoltus quickly lowered his eyes. “The farm is prospering Marcus,” he replied in a guarded voice, “but I’m afraid not all is well. Armin has vanished and so has the bulk of the gold which we buried on the farm. It’s a disaster. We can’t find Armin anywhere. Dylis thinks that he stole the gold. Only we knew where it was buried. He must have discovered where.”

  Marcus’s face darkened but he said nothing. The news then was as he had expected. Across the field, Marcus caught sight of Jowan hastening towards him. Dylis’s husband, his hair tied back in a ponytail, was clutching a hayfork and was wearing a wide-brimmed sunhat and a dirty leather apron. At the same time coming towards them from the house, at a walk, was Dylis. His sister’s clothes, arms and face were covered and stained with splashes of paint and in her hand, she was clutching a brush. As Jowan came up to Marcus he dipped his head in a respectful and courteous manner, flung his hayfork onto the ground and quickly embraced Marcus and Kyna. The last to reach them was Dylis and, as she smiled and silently hugged Marcus and Kyna, the excited dogs bustled silently and excitedly around Marcus’s legs. Stepping back, Dylis turned to Marcus and gave him a puzzled look.

  “Well it’s good to see you both. This is a surprise. We were not expecting you so soon,” Dylis said as her eyes moved from Marcus to Kyna and back. “Has this something to do with Armin’s disappearance or did you finally get bored of Rome?”

  For a moment Marcus said nothing, as sombrely he turned to look at the house. Finally, he turned to his little sister.

  “Gather the whole family together. I need to speak to all of you. The situation is very serious,” Marcus said in a grave voice.

  ***

  It was late in the evening and in the long dining hall of the villa the fire crackled in its hearth. On the walls oil lamps lit up the room in a dim flickering light. Marcus stood beside the window, looking out at the night and the moon that presided over the dark wheat fields, a cup of Posca in his right hand. Slowly he reached out to try and steady the shaking in his left arm but to no avail. Along the large wooden dining table that dominated the hall, Jowan, Cunomoltus and the twins were sitting gazing down at the polished oak in shocked silence. The rich, generous dishes of food and jugs of wine, posca, water and milk had barely been touched. In a corner Petrus, the Christian boy whom Corbulo had once rescued from Londinium, was leaning against the wall stroking his beard thoughtfully. The others, Dylis, together with her fifteen-year-old son and Kyna, were sitting beside the hearth staring silently into the flames. Only Indus, the big bald Batavian bodyguard seemed unaffected by the news Marcus had just shared.

  “So now you know what has happened to us in Rome,” Marcus said at last as he turned to face his family. “Now that you know about Elsa and Armin’s betrayal the question arises - what are we going to do?”

  “What a fucking bitch,” Jowan suddenly swore with uncharacteristic anger. “We treated her and her brother like one of us. They were one of us. Why did I not see that coming?”

  “None of us saw Elsa’s betrayal coming,” Kyna replied in a weary voice. “But she and Armin had been planning this for some time. The damage has been done. None of us are at fault. We must move on.”

  “If the situation is as bad as you describe,” Cunomoltus said, quickly turning to look at his half-brother. “And this senator. This Nigrinus will be coming for us, then I see no other alternative. We must leave Vectis. We should go north or east. Corbulo still has family living around Camulodunum and Galena has family in Deva. We should seek shelter with them.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Dylis hissed as she angrily rounded on Cunomoltus. “Did you not hear what Marcus just said? There will be a bounty on Marcus’s head. He’s a fugitive from the law. He murdered two prominent senators in his own home. There is clear proof. No one will protect him now. No one will harbour us. No one will want to touch us. Once news of that reaches the province we will not be safe anywhere.”

  “Well we can’t stay here,” Cunomoltus retorted. “If this Nigrinus is as powerful and influential as Marcus says, we won’t be able to fight him. All we can do is flee. That is the sensible option. Think about the children.”

  At the mention of her children Dylis’s face darkened and she looked away.

  “Ahern refused to come with us,” Kyna said suddenly. “My son chose to stay behind in Rome. If Nigrinus finds Ahern, what do you think they will do to him? I don’t know why he chose to stay but I have faith in him.” Slowly Kyna turned to look around the room. “We must have faith. All of us. We must believe in each other. Whatever we decide it must be unanimous. United we stand, disunited we fall.”

  “I know some Christian brothers who would be willing to shelter us,” Petrus said quietly, but no one seemed to be listening to him.

  “Fine words are all well and good,” Dylis hissed bitterly as she turned on Kyna. “But if it wasn’t for your husband’s foolishness and recklessness, we would not be in this position.”

  Defiantly and angrily Dylis turned to glare at Marcus. “Well its true isn’t it? You got us into this trouble. This whole mess is your fault. You have put us all at risk. What do you propose to do about it?”

  All eyes suddenly turned to Marcus standing beside the window. For a moment he said nothing, his face grave and serious.

  “What is done cannot
be undone,” Marcus said at last, as he turned to look at his family. “There is no point arguing about what has happened. The damage is done like Kyna’s says. I have become a fugitive from the law. Elsa and her brother Armin have stolen our gold and we have been run out of Rome, and it is highly likely that Nigrinus or his minions will come here looking for me. I know that man. He will not rest until he has what he wants.” Marcus paused, as he took a sip from his cup. Then he lifted his chin with sudden resolve. “We must look towards the future and we will see this crisis through to the end,” he said in a grave but confident voice. “This is not the first crisis we have faced. We have endured before and will do so again. We will survive. But I am not going to leave this house, this farm. This is our home. This is where we belong. There is nowhere else to go. I will be damned if I am going to run again from a weasel like Nigrinus, even if he and his cohorts come here with the full backing of imperial authority and the law. If we are to die, then let it be here in this house where my father first made his home. We are staying put, all of us. We will defend our property like we have done before. I am done with running. That is my decision.”

  For a long moment the dining hall remained silent. Then slowly Cunomoltus shook his head.