Lynne Ellison's The Green Bronze Mirror

by Christopher Posner

behaved very well, and stood up well to the rigours of the journey, for the rough wayside grazing was enough to sustain him. The humans managed well enough, too; Kleon hunted rabbits with a bow-and-arrow they had bought from a trader whom they had met; and these they roasted over a fire and ate with anything they could find or scrounge. Once or twice, too, they stole fowls and fruit from outlying farms.

  At Massilia Karen was once more on the route she had travelled along with the legionaries from Britain. She had also been through France the year before-on a train to Italy, but the flat, rural country she had seen then now looked very different in the first century A.D., and even more so if you had to walk across it. The days seemed endlessly long, and the flat parts interminable, but the nights made up for it, lying in a bed of scented wild flowers, with the stars overhead and the cool evening breeze whispering in the trees.

  So they completed the southern half of their journey and at last came in under the ancient stone gateway of Alesia. It was a large, heavily fortified city, but the houses now spilled outside the walls in an untidy jumble instead of keeping to their proper order. Karen and Kleon pushed their way through the market-day crowds, and found a tumbledown inn that would take them for a night. The donkey was left in the stable with a bunch of pigs.

  'He'll probably kick them to death,' remarked Kleon, but not so loud that the landlady would hear.

  Karen felt unusually happy that evening. They were halfway across Gaul, and had done more than half of the entire journey. The rest would be easy-or so she thought.

  They went out early the next morning to look round the town and by chance they found themselves in the marketplace. With thoughts only of what food they could obtain, Karen suddenly saw a familiar face, and went white when she realized who it was. She grabbed Kleon's arm.

  'Quick, hide!' she said. 'Isn't that Lucius?'

  It was Lucius, unmistakably, though what he should be doing here was beyond both of them. He was sitting on a roan horse and talking to some men in the street. Behind him waited Zenocrates and half a dozen slaves, Gauls by the looks of them. Even as Karen and Kleon watched, the party began to move towards them.

  Quickly Kleon pulled Karen into a doorway, and they turned their faces to the wall, listening to the clatter of approaching hoofs. Lucius was still talking to someone as he drew level, and they hoped they would escape his notice, but then there was an exclamation, and they heard a sharp, 'Turn round, you two!'

  'Run for it,' Karen whispered, and they fled past Lucius in different directions. Karen heard the horse following her at a gallop, and she raced across the open square, but the roan was quicker than she was and within moments Lucius had reached down and seized her by the wrist. She fought and struggled, but he soon had firm hold of her and told Zenocrates to tie

  her arms behind her back. Karen looked desperately about for Kleon and saw him hesitating in the mouth of an alley. Unfortunately Lucius saw him too and, picking up his riding-crop, he raised it to hit Karen, at the same time beckoning to Kleon.

  Bravely Karen shouted to her friend to get away and not be caught, then turned violently away as Lucius slashed her face with the whip. She gasped at the stinging pain and stared at him, feeling tears and blood well up and horrified to see Kleon come running across the square.

  'All right,' he said, 'don't hit her again. I'll come quietly.'

  'Sensible of you,' said Lucius with a smirk, 'because I hate to think what state your girl-friend's face would have been in when I'd finished with her.'

  Karen listened, horrified. She would never have thought Lucius capable of cruelty like that.

  With their hands tied, the two prisoners were marched down the road to the Army Headquarters, where the officer in charge agreed to keep them in the military jail for the night- for a fee which would probably never find its way into the Army revenues. The cell assigned to them was small and gloomy and damp, and its only contents were some old straw in a corner and a cracked water jar in the centre of the room. It was lighted only by a thin ray of sunlight that came in through the little square window and made a small coloured patch on the floor of the otherwise dark cell. They sat back to back and Karen untied Kleon's hands with her fingers; then he did hers.

  'That's better,' she said. 'Kleon, why did you come back for me? Now we'll both be taken back to Rome, if we're not crucified.'

  'I didn't want to leave you and I still don't. I couldn't stand by and watch that Lucius take a whip to you. Does your face hurt?'

  Karen put her hand up to it. 'Not much,' she said. 'It only stings a bit.'

  'It's spoiled your beauty for a while,' he remarked, 'but it hasn't cut very deep so I should think it'll be all right in a week or two. I suppose Lucius'll take us back tomorrow. He said something about going.'

  'Yes,' said Karen. She watched the tiny particle of dust sliding down through the sunbeam and felt like crying. She would never get back to her own century now. She'd be hauled back to the house on the Viminal hill and kept as nursemaid to those ghastly children for the rest of her days.

  'Never mind,' said Kleon, seeing her lip tremble. 'We'll get to Britain somehow.' He put an arm round her shoulders and kissed her. It was the only comfort he could offer.

  The sunbeam shifted slowly across the cell floor, and finally disappeared, leaving the two slaves more depressed than ever.

  They were sitting in miserable silence, no longer able to think of anything to say to each other, when they heard the clink of money and voices at the door. Glad of any diversion, they watched as bolts slid back and the door opened slightly. The sentry on guard then poked his head in, and jerked his thumb towards the passage behind.

  'All right,' he said gruffly. 'Get out. I don't 'ear nothing, see? And I don't see nothing. And don't ask me who that was. Just thank yer lucky stars.'

  He stumped away, leaving the door open, and Karen looked at Kleon. 'We've got a friend somewhere,' she said. 'Let's go!'

  At the end of the passage a cloaked figure was waiting for them. As she came nearer Karen saw that it was an oldish man with a long beard.

  'Zenocrates!' she murmured. He turned towards her and smiled grimly. 'Shh!' he said. 'This way.'

  He took them out of the barracks-building by a back-exit, then threw back his hood and went boldly out of the main gate as if on some night errand. The sentry did not challenge them as they passed him.

  At a point on the town walls where there was a sloping roof that would serve as a kind of ladder to get over by, Zenocrates left them, nodding to them and slipping away before Karen could even thank him.

  Kleon led the way up the roof and they dropped noiselessly on to soft grass on the other side. Hardly had they picked themselves up when there was a snorting noise and something moved nearby.

  'Horses!' Kleon exclaimed. 'He's thought of everything.' Catching the bridle of the first and quietening it, Karen swung herself into the saddle and kicked the animal to a gallop, with Kleon close behind. The horse she was riding was a strong grey gelding. Its silvery mane whipped in her face, and as she gripped with her knees to keep her balance, she kept a firm hold on the reins and let the restless horse go as fast as it liked.

  The road was level and firm, and they galloped for several miles before the horses began to blow; then Karen eased on the reins and the gelding fell into a trot, and later a walk, snorting and tossing his head. Kleon made his mare trot for a while longer to catch up.

  'That was great,' he said. 'You're a good rider.'

  Karen explained that she had been riding at home for three years, although not in these sort of circumstances. They were now proceeding at a walk, to let the horses get their breath back, when suddenly Kleon held up his hand.

  'Stop a minute,' he said. 'I think I heard something.'

  He dismounted and put his ear to the ground. 'Shh! We're being pursued.'

  Karen felt a stab of fear. 'What are we going to do?'

  'Get off the road for a start.
We'll hide up somewhere.' All around them the woods were dark and silent, except for the faint swishing of leaves in the breeze. The horses jogged between the broad beech-trunks, treading on fallen twigs with loud cracking noises. About a hundred yards from the track they tied the horses up at a point from which they could still see the narrow silver strip of road between the trees.

  After ten anxious minutes Karen heard hoof-beats coming nearer, and glimpsed a troop of four mounted men cantering along. They were almost past when they suddenly stopped, and the leader swung his horse round with a jerk on the bridle.

  'I don't reckon on catchin’ ‘em now,' he said. 'Better turn back.'

  The others agreed, pulling up and wheeling round likewise. As they did so one of their horses neighed. Immediately there was an answering whinny from the mare in the woods. Karen tightened her grip on the tree. That stupid beast! The whinny sounded terribly loud; the men could not have failed to hear it. Yes, there they came, shouting to one another and turning their horses to the woods.

  Karen and Kleon ran to their horses. Karen scrambled on somehow, and the game little grey plunged forward and jumped a stream, its hoofs slipping and splashing in the water. She had to throw her arms around its neck to avoid being swept off by low branches, and as she clung grimly on she dimly saw the flying tail of the mare in front, and heard the shouts of the pursuers.

  Fortunately for the fugitives the men's horses were tired with the long canter they had just had, whereas the mare and the grey had rested for quarter of an hour and had lighter weights on their backs. To Karen's tremendous relief she heard the men drop gradually behind.

  When at last Karen allowed the panting grey to stop, all was quiet to the rear. Her own heart felt as if it went beating inside her head, and she still felt panic-stricken. Kleon's idea was that they must not return to the road, for the men would be there, but push on parallel to it deep among the trees. It would be slower going, but safer.

  'Couldn't we stop for the night?' asked Karen wearily, because she was very tired and beginning to feel stiff; it was ages since she had been on a horse and they had galloped a long way.

  'Well, I don't know-I suppose so. We can't light a fire, though. Worn out, are you?'

  Karen nodded sadly and he helped her off the horse. 'Doesn't matter about the fire,' she said. 'Shall we hobble the animals?'

  They tied their forelegs with the bridle-reins, which were fortunately detachable; then Karen found a large hollow tree, which would make a better sleeping place than the open ground, although a bit cramped. The wood inside was dry and rotten and kept crumbling and falling down Karen's neck, but she was asleep in no time, curled up with her head on Kleon's arm.

  They felt much better when they set off in the morning. For food the horses had done well enough on grass and water, but the two humans were ravenously hungry, for now they had nothing to eat at all, and the countryside was deserted and lonely. However, after twenty-four hours of fasting they managed to steal a chicken from a small outlying farm. Kleon was quite good at this kind of thing by now. They roasted it over a little fire among the trees, where the farmer would be unlikely to catch them.

  They found travelling much quicker now that they had two horses instead of one slow donkey, and they reached Lutetia six days after the escape from Alesia.

  Lutetia was then a small fortified town on the banks of the Sequana river. Karen realized that it was Paris, although very different from the sprawling modern city she knew dominated by the Eiffel Tower. Now it was just a huddle of stone buildings on the riverside, though quite a busy little place, for much of the south-going traffic passed through it.

  Kleon spent the last few coins they had on some food which they both needed, for Karen was inches slimmer than she had been in Rome and Kleon was positively bony. However, they were both in very good spirits. Karen's face was already almost healed and left very little trace of the whip slash. Refreshed and rested they left Lutetia behind and in another week were trotting over the green hills and verdant valleys of what in future ages would be Normandy.

  It was not far to the coast now.

  XIV

  IT WAS A COLD, GREY DAY WHEN THEY DISEMBARKED ON the shores of Britain. They had sold their horses in Itium for a good price, and with the proceeds they had been fortunate enough to obtain a passage across the Channel on board a merchant ship which had put them off at a convenient spot on the south coast. Karen remembered the name of the fort where Duillius Rufus had sold her, and the merchant said it was twenty miles away to the west.

  Karen thanked him, and when she finally stood on British soil she picked up a handful and threw it playfully at Kleon, then whirled him around in a dance of triumph.

  'Now we've only got to find Math-Giddon!' she said jubilantly, but Kleon snorted.

  'Is that all?' he asked sarcastically. 'And how do you propose to find him? Do you realize it'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack.'

  This put a damper on Karen's spirits. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I wish you hadn't said that. But I'm sure we'll find him when the time's right.'

  The wet mist swirled around them and the long waves sounded empty and dead on the shore. A cold wind flattened Karen's dress against her legs and blew the tangly hair over her eyes.

  'A typical British day!' she said, refusing, however, to let it depress her.

  Kleon suggested going along the coast, but Karen turned the idea down, afraid of meeting legionaries from the Roman coastal forts.

  'Let's go inland,' she said. 'We're bound to find a farm or something, and they'll probably know more about Math-Giddon.'

  There was a faint cart-track leading over the downs, and they followed that. After an hour's dismal trekking Karen began to feel a longing for food and shelter, and inwardly decided that going inland was not such a good idea after all. Kleon tactfully said nothing.

  Finally, just as Karen was on the point of sitting down and admitting that she had been wrong, they heard hoof-beats and the jingle of bridles on the track behind them. A group of four men, mounted on tall horses, approached at a trot.

  Karen and Kleon looked at each other, uncertain whether to run or stay on the track, but in the end they waited for the men to catch up with them.

  The leader reined in his horse. 'Well, well!' he said. 'Look at these two beauties! What would you be doing here, then?'

  'Nothing,' said Karen, and immediately wished that she hadn't. It was such a juvenile answer to a question when she had no idea of the answer.

  The man roared with laughter and slapped his thigh so that the ornaments on his sword-belt clinked. 'Nothing!' he said, and turned to the others so that they should appreciate the joke.

  'What I meant was, we haven't anywhere in particular to go,' Karen explained hastily. She wondered what business of this man's it was, anyway.

  He looked at her quizzically, then at Kleon. 'Nowhere in particular, on a cold day like this? Night's coming on, you know. Now, how would you like to spend the night in a good warm place with lots o' the best company?' There was sarcastic laughter from the men behind. Karen looked at Kleon, leaving the decision to him, but doubts about 'strange men' kept flooding into her mind.

  'Very well,' he said finally. 'Thank you. But this is my girl, so you keep your filthy hands off her.'

  The men muttered at this, and Karen was glad that Kleon had raised the point, but the big red-haired leader nodded silently and signalled to two of the followers to take them up on their horses.

  A tall thin man with greasy yellow hair spurred his roan forward and literally scooped Karen up with a grip under her armpits. She wondered where he found the strength, and then realized that she must be much lighter since the past weeks. The horse did not seem to be affected by the extra weight, for it broke into a restless, bumpy trot, while Karen clutched its mane.

  'Falling off, are you?' said the man, putting an arm around her waist, and not entirely to hold her on. Karen stiffened, but
there was nothing much she could do about it.

  'Where are you taking us?' she asked.

  The man took the reins in his other hand and pointed up the hill. 'That's our hideout,' he said.

  'Hideout! What are you?'

  He laughed pleasantly. 'Gentlemen o' business, the chief calls us. Robbers to you.'

  'Are you planning to rob us?' she said blandly. Might as well ask him straightforwardly.

  'I don't know what the chief wants with you. We don't beat up everyone, you know- mainly Romans or merchants if we find any. We have to keep moving our quarters as people find out where we are. The Romans would be very glad to get rid of us, I'll tell you! Hup, my beauty.' This was addressed to the horse, which picked its way up past rocks and thorn-trees with agility.

  Among the rocks cresting the hill was a large cave, and they drew up outside that in the gathering dusk and fine drizzle. Two boys of about fifteen, with the same red hair as their father, came out and took the horses, and a tall, solid-looking woman in grey homespun followed them.

  'There y'are!' she cried. 'An' about time, too. The stew's been ready this half-hour.'

  She noticed Karen. 'What's this ye've got?'

  'Just a friend, just a friend,' said the chief. 'I've a mind to give these two a bed for the night.'

  'Huh! It's not often you give anything.'

  'Silence, woman, and let's be having yer stew instead of yer opinions.'

  Inside the cave the air was smoky, though the worst of it went out through a gap in the roof. There was a huge pan of stew bubbling over the fire, and a horsehide screen over the mouth of the cave hid any tell-tale view of the flames from people on the road below.

  Karen sat down feeling utterly weary, and dumbly accepted the bowl of stew she was given. She looked for a spoon, but seeing that the men were all eating with their fingers, she did the same. It was a very messy business, especially mopping up a lot of gravy, but the food itself was delicious.

  During the course of the meal she heard Kleon talking to the chief, who had become very merry on account of a mead-horn that was being passed around, but she did not hear what Kleon was saying, because the horn was passed to her. Not fancying what was inside, she made to pass it to the next person without drinking, but he caught her wrist and draped an arm around her shoulders.

  'No, come on, have a drink. S'nice ...'

  'It seems to have made you drunk already.'

  He sniggered. 'So what? S'nice to be drunk, too. Go on, have a drink. Then you'll be d-drunk l-like me.' He stumbled over the words.

  Karen took a mouthful. The liquid tasted of honey and trickled down her throat like soup. It left a fiery after-taste that was rather pleasant and she was just about to have another sip when she saw Kleon give her a warning glance from the other side of the fire, so she passed the horn