Spears of Britannia

by Scott Hurst

  Lupicinius, as master of ceremonies, was watching the display with a strange expression on his face which Max could not read. For a second he could have sworn he saw hatred there.

  The spectacle continued. A huge shield appeared, constructed in bronze sheet. It was laid flat and Guidolin stepped onto it. His henchmen raised him aloft and began proclaiming him. It was almost impossible to hear their voices above the instruments and the voices of the people. The crowd roared with excitement. Drums were beaten, trumpets blown.

  From his place high above the crowd Guidolin looked down at Max with a look of triumph. And Max understood that Guidolin had permitted him to live, only in order that he might see this moment.

  This time Maximus turned his back on his enemy.

  Any authority Guidolin had over his people was born not out of respect but out of fear.

  *****

  Sabrina had heard the angry voices but her father had kept her away, not wanting her to mingle with the foreigners. She had missed the bear ceremony too, though God knew this bear cult was a terrible step backwards. She stared at her father, weighing the dish in her hands. The one she’d just thrown at him missed him narrowly. Next time she’d ensure her aim.

  ‘What’s come over you, child?’ Donocastus demanded. ‘You should be honoured Lord Guidolin has chosen you as his wife.’

  ‘How can you live with yourself, prostituting your own daughter?’ she screamed. ‘Condemning me to live with that…monster!’

  At least he had the grace to look ashamed. ‘Marriage to the leader of our people would be a great privilege.’

  A privilege that would cost her sanity, perhaps even her life. And until then, the physical cost. Even the thought of Guidolin’s body writhing on top of her… again those terrible feelings rose to the surface, feelings Sabrina didn’t know how to deal with.

  A voice spoke out of the shadows. ‘Don’t humour her, Donocastus...’ Lupicinius demanded. ‘Command her to do as Guidolin wills.’

  Sabrina glared at him. When the priest first arrived he’d seemed charismatic, prophetic. He’d understood all those Christian ideas of darkness and death, helped them understand the sacrifice Christ had made for them, made it a somehow joyful thing. But there was none of the peace he spoke about in Lupicinius. Why did her father not defend her?

  Sudden weariness made Sabrina sway. Lupicinius had deprived her of sleep for three days, told her to pray to know the will of God. Instead she knew only her will. To escape the man she feared above all others.

  Donocastus was pleading now. ‘Please, Sabrina,’ he whispered. ‘The whole family will fall under Guidolin’s displeasure if you continue to refuse him.’ Donocastus was a powerful man within the tribe, but he was no match for Guidolin. He continued to whisper softly in her ear. ‘Play this game, so that we all survive.’ Aloud he did Lupicinius’s bidding. ‘Marry Guidolin or I shall disown you. Think of the honour, the prestige.’

  Sabrina lifted her chin. No power in the world was worth being chained to that evil. ‘You know me but little, Father, if you believe those things would tempt me.’

  Lupicinius eyed her smoothly. ‘You underestimate your daughter, Donocastus. Sabrina is not ambitious in the usual way…’ His eyes roved over her face and down the length of her body. Sabrina shivered with revulsion. ‘She’s a beautiful, young, Dobunnic noblewoman, who should behave according to her rank.’ Sabrina yelped in pain as Lupicinius grabbed a hank of her hair, forcing her to step towards him. ‘A woman who is proving herself strong minded and ungovernable.’ He turned to her father, again pulling her hair painfully. ‘She must be punished.’

  At last her father defended her. ‘Punished? But every Dobunnic woman has the right to choose her own husband.’

  ‘Punished for using her gifts wrongly. Your daughter is capable of arousing desire in anyone she chooses. It is her fault Guidolin has fallen under her spell.’

  ‘If so that spell was my undoing.’

  Lupicinius yanked her hair again. ‘Subdue your wicked tongue.’ As he gave her hair a final yank Sabrina twisted and sank her small teeth into his wrist. Yelping, Lupicinius pushed her from him. ‘Your daughter has the manners of a slave.’ Smiling now, a strange light passed across his eyes. ‘So why not let her become one? Teach her to yield her will for the good of the Dobunni.’

  Donocastus was incensed. ‘Make her a slave? She is a freeborn noblewoman. No, Lupicinius. I refuse to allow it.’

  Lupicinius rubbed at his wrist. ‘Show her now that you are her Lord and Master. Or have Guidolin show you that he is yours.’ He walked to the door of the hut. ‘A few days as a hearthslave should convince her of her worthlessness.’

  Her father turned to her, wild-eyed and trembling. ‘I am powerless to prevent it, Sabrina. Guidolin can destroy our family. Please child, won’t you take him and save yourself this indignity?’

  She faced him squarely. ‘I’d rather die!’

  Lupicinius smiled again. ‘That, too, could be arranged.’

  *****

  The Catuvellauni had been shown into a small group of semi-derelict huts for the night. Taking the horses for feed and water Max and Salvius discussed the knife attack. Salvius looked around him. ‘After that ceremony, I don’t feel safe. What if we have to fight our way out of here?’

  Max nodded. That glance Guidolin had given into the crowd, just before he was attacked in the great hall? Had he known what was about to happen? ‘I’ve seen a breech in the defences to the north, just beyond these huts.’

  ‘I saw it too,’ Salvius murmured. ‘Probably left to allow cattle through to graze. At night it’ll be closed by wickerwork.’

  ‘I checked. It’s guarded by a single man. ’ Max looked at his friend directly. ‘If anything happens, Salvius, get my parents out. Be sure and let Decentius know our plan.’ Turning he looked out across the hillfort where his mother’s people were quietly preparing for the night. Half of his blood belonged to this tribe yet he felt so little connection with them. Firelight shone. Somewhere a baby cried. He shook his head. Both tribes were vulnerable.

  In the hut they’d been given Rhoswen was tending Severus, with the help of her maid. The old man was settled in his bed and quiet. Folding blankets his mother spoke her thoughts aloud. ‘Can you sense the brooding presence in the village? My sister tells me it has been here for many months. Guidolin is much feared by the tribe now, since he’s taken all power to himself. None dare speak out against him. Still, this renewal of the bear cult is strange.’

  Max tried to remember what he knew of Artur, one of the genii locorum – the local or tribal gods. He knew only that in the Dobunni legends Artur appeared in the form of the bear, which would rise up to protect his people. Strange, this resurrection of interest in him, and against the faith. If Guidolin is not careful he will draw antagonism from the Church and endanger any hoped for connection with the new Emperor.

  Rhoswen was still chattering. ‘I can understand the tribe’s attraction to the cult, given the poor harvest last year – their reliance on the forest will grow. Reverence for the bear waned with the coming of the gospel, but Artur and the old gods still have a place in their hearts. Still, not all of the tribe are behind it, this rededication to their old beliefs. You’ve seen the woven crosses over the doors around the village?’

  Max had seen them and wondered.

  ‘Some of the Dobunni…’ She looked at him, hesitating. ‘They believe a great evil has got hold of the fortress – their crosses invite protection. May Christ circle this place and keep us far from harm.’ Blessing herself, Rhoswen urged Max to tell her what happened at the ceremony after she left. Watching her face it became clear the ritual had a significance Max had not realised. Rhoswen paled. ‘When I was a girl we were told the god Artur had fallen asleep and was waiting in one of the caves to return, to lead his people. Guidolin is taking that power to himself.’

  Was that what Guidolin intended, to dupe the people with this new belief? Max’s mind began turning over th
e consequences. He heard his mother only dimly. ‘My sister tells me Guidolin intends to marry Sabrina.’

  The name brought him up short. ‘Sabrina?’

  ‘He’s trying to force the girl to marry him. Lupicinius is saying she’s the manifestation of the river goddess, calling her the life-giver. I worry for her, Maximus. She will never accept Guidolin.’

  Max grunted. ‘And what of the priest?’ The more information he had about that creature the better he’d feel.

  Decentius spoke up. ‘I made enquiries. It seems he came from a mission centre out west many years ago. Fell out with the church for his radical ways and his wanderings brought him here. Never seen a priest still so moulded by the Old Ways.’

  Rhoswen spoke up again. ‘Lupicinius is but a symptom of the evil here. Guidolin is leading the Dobunni into the abyss.’

  Salvius’s blood was up. ‘Why does no one question his leadership, my Lady?’

  ‘Guidolin tolerates no challenges. He’s surrounded himself by yaysayers. The lad who stood beside him on the dais, Vortigern, is the only member of his family he will accept around him. I believe he’s grooming him to follow him. Until then Guidolin intends to reign unchallenged.’

  *****

  In the dank drizzle Lupicinius scanned the mud. He was alone at last after the pressing crowds of earlier. He needed this solitude. He forced thoughts of Guidolin and Sabrina and the troubled tribe from his mind.

  His mother had taught him to hunt and he’d followed the tracks of the bear with ease. The broad, sharp clawed tracks, the forepaws smaller than those behind.

  The thing was not far off. He felt the beast shape of it, felt the force of it, sensed how he could take its power into himself. Soon he would draw strength from its strength.

  Watching Guidolin at the ceremony, seeing the tribe shower him with adulation…cold pain had clawed at his heart. In the midst of the crowd he had felt that terrible, bewildering confusion. Felt the anger of the god, felt Artur’s fury. Lupicinius had heard his words, whispering over the chants of the crowd. He’d wanted to scream out. ‘I am the incarnation of the god.’ But the Shadow had shown him his pride, laughed at him. He had felt its draw, felt it pulling him forward towards destruction.

  But now Artur had smiled on him. He had dared to summon the bear in the light of day – and the bear had come.

  Lupicinius did not know how long he had stood there. When he came to himself once more the drizzle had turned to rain and a gale was against him. He gazed into the empty mud.

  He could no longer see its tracks. The bear’s trail had gone cold. He heard no sound but the wind whining through the great, green-filled trees.

  Anger filled him. Longing.

  He called on it then, strange and sudden – Artur.

  He heard the bear before he saw it. And knew it had seen him.

  A shadow of fear stole over his heart. Its eyes were the eyes of the hunter, not the hunted.

  In the silence, Lupicinius turned and fled.

  *****

  Salvius and Decentius were already snoring when Max heard voices outside. He looked up as two shadows appeared in the doorway of the hut. One of them was a Dobunnic guard, the other a woman he was leading by the arm.

  ‘A slave girl for you, compliments of the Dobunni. Something softer to lie upon than that bed tonight.’ Hurling her towards Max, he left.

  Though Max had thought of seeing Sabrina again, he had never imagined it would be like this. He almost didn’t recognize her. She was thin, gaunt almost. She looked exhausted.

  Sweet Christ, she was wearing a slave collar.

  What agony she must be suffering, to be so dishonoured. Max felt an urge to comfort her but somehow he knew it would be the wrong thing to do. Instead he willed her to raise her head and look at him. ‘It would seem you’ve outdone yourself, Sabrina. You must have offended Guidolin greatly that he would seek to humiliate you in such a way.’

  She sat up in the dust. If this disgrace was an attempt to humble her spirit, it had failed. Her blue eyes flashed. She looked as strong and as beautiful as ever. ‘I refused to marry him. And since I won’t marry the ‘best of Dobunnic men’, Lupicinius says I must be a whore for the worst Catuvellauni.’

  ‘And Guidolin allowed it? Forced you to be a… whore?’

  Her chin lifted. ‘He doesn’t know. This is Lupicinius’s work. He thinks if I am spoiled by a Catuvellaunian, Guidolin will never make me his queen.’

  Max shuffled across to her. ‘Your father let him do this?’

  ‘My father has no power. No one does.’ She looked up at him. Her clear eyes pleaded with him. ‘Guidolin will kill me if he thinks I’ve lain with you. Help me escape. There must be a way for you to take me with you.’

  Decentius was lying awake now, looking across at them. Out of the corner of his eye, Max could see him very gently shaking his head. Max sighed. ‘We came here to make peace, Sabrina. They’d say we’d taken you. It would break the treaty between Catuvellauni and Dobunni. Thousands would die.’

  Desperation was in her eyes now. Her breath was coming quick now, making her breast rise and fall. ‘If you don’t take me with you, I’ll go alone. I’d rather die than stay here. ’

  Deep inside himself Max felt a new need, to - what? Protect her. She looked so vulnerable, despite her pride. A pride that would kill her if she ran from the tribe now. She wouldn’t last a day out there alone. ‘Sabrina, I want to help you, but it’s impossible. My mother will speak to Guidolin on your behalf. But the peace must hold.’ He looked down at her, willing her to know he wouldn’t just abandon her.

  Sabrina laughed hollowly. ‘The peace is a sham. Guidolin was only buying time until he can form an alliance with all your neighbours, the Corieltauvi to your north, the Iceni to your east, the Cantii to your south. He’s been seeking a stranglehold on you. But I overheard Lupicinius talking to my father. Now Guidolin’s seen you, they intend striking tonight. Your lives are in danger even as we speak.’

  Max glanced across at Decentius, uncertain. His friend’s face showed similar confusion. Was that what Lupicinius had whispered to Guidolin?

  Max turned to Decentius. ‘I believe her. We need to get everyone out of here now.’

  Decentius raised his eyes towards the ceiling then gestured outside. ‘Please excuse us, Lady Sabrina. Max, may I have a word?’ Outside he whispered urgently, looking around to make sure they weren’t overheard. ‘Right now she’d say anything to get free of him. Don’t throw away our peace just for the sake of a pretty pair of lips, which she won’t bestow on you anyway once we’re out of here.’

  ‘Do you take me for an idiot?’ Max hissed back at him.

  Suddenly Salvius was there too. ‘No, we take you for a man. I don’t care how beautiful she is, Maximus, she’s not our problem. Your rashness will get us all killed.’

  Normally Salvius stood with him shoulder to shoulder. He felt hurt. ‘You two should know me better. I’m not looking for a quick tumble in the hay. I could have had that when she was offered to me. Sabrina’s not promised to Guidolin. I wouldn’t leave a dog with him, never mind a woman like that. Now get everyone ready to move out. We’re wasting time.’ He looked round. All seemed quiet, but were those shadows moving by the main hall in the moonlight?

  Decentius shrugged. ‘How we are going to get out of here? Not just out of the fortress, but out of Dobunnic territory? We’re a day’s journey from home. With the carriages we can’t travel fast. Guidolin’s horsemen would catch us within the hour. Then what do we do? Fight our way back? It’s madness, Max. Suicide. What if they catch us escaping?’ He looked up in despair at the moon. ‘It’s almost as bright as day.’

  Salvius had been thinking. ‘What about the Roman garrisons on the Chester-London road? If we reach them maybe they would protect us?’

  Max shook his head. ‘Too far, and, besides, I heard that some of those garrisons have been withdrawn by Constantine for his army to invade Gaul. We’re on our own.’ He took a deep brea
th. ‘What if we somehow convince the Dobunni we’re heading south, but instead go north? The border with Corieltauvian territory is maybe half a day, or half a night, from here. It would take hours in the darkness before Guidolin’s men finish searching the road south and make sure we are not hidden somewhere along it. By then we’ll be well into Corieltauvian territory.’

  Decentius grimaced. ‘North? Where the Corieltauvi love us no better than the Dobunni?’

  ‘You know the finger of our land that sticks out westwards from Magiovinium? We make for there. To get there from here is a twisting route which turns several times. It will help hide our trail. With luck by the time they work out what’s happening we’ll be safely back over our border to our own people.’

  Decentius grimaced. ‘You know what you’re doing, Maximus? What you’re committing us to if we take her?’

  ‘I know it will mean war, Decentius, but after that ceremony tonight, I’ve no doubt that’s Guidolin’s intention anyway. It’s only a matter of time.’

  Salvius’s voice was grim. ‘There’s no turning you back from this?’

  ‘No.’ Max stared at his friend, willing him to understand. This was a call from the heart, one he did not yet understand, but one he must heed.

  Decentius broke the tension. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Maximus. I’ll gather the servants and others. Salvius will get the horses and carriages ready. You rouse your parents.’

  Max ducked into the darkness of the hut where his parents lay sleeping and gently shook Rhoswen’s shoulder. She was instantly awake. ‘Mother, we must leave. Immediately. No details now. You have to trust me.’

  She stared at him, uncomprehending. Rest seemed to have allowed Severus to recover a little of his strength. He growled tetchily at his wife. ‘Get up, Rhoswen. These people tried to kill your son tonight. Up with you and let us be off.’

  Glad to see some of the fire back in his father Max ducked out of the door to find Salvius and Decentius quietly saddling the horses and readying the carriages. A sleeper in one of the Dobunnic huts coughed loudly. The three men tensed, standing still till there was no further noise or movement. His parents emerged silently from their hut, slipping into the waiting carriage.