Shadows in the Night (48 page)

And then a voice close beside me exclaimed, “Aurelia! Thank the gods, you’re awake!”

I knew that voice. It was Lucius.

Gradually, joyfully, I realised we were safe, and I began to piece together what had happened. Hawk had brought Lucius and his troop, and a contingent from the Oak Tree, to the house in the rock, and they’d simply stormed their way in. They’d killed Vitalis and Segovax and the few natives inside the caves, but most of the warriors were still out in the woods searching for Hawk, and these were being rounded up now. The rescue had come in time to save Quintus from serious injury; he’d had a severe beating, and they’d broken several ribs and two of his fingers. But he hadn’t talked, and it could have been so much worse.

I remember lying beside him by the fire in the large outer room, both of us waiting till Lucius could organise stretchers to take us home. “I suppose one day I’ll get the chance to see you without a lot of bumps and bruises,” I said.

“If you wait long enough,” he grinned, rather lop-sidedly because his lip was cut.

“I’ll wait.” I went to take his hand, remembered his injured fingers, and just touched his cheek instead. “You were brilliant, passing me that message. How did you know Felix had his own private exit?”

“After they first dragged us in here, I heard some of the warriors talking. About not daring to tell the Shadow of Death that Hawk had escaped. I think you were asleep….”

“I was, part of the time. I do remember bits of conversation, but nothing about a hidden way out.”

“I heard someone say, ‘Everyone is out searching. It leaves the tunnel unprotected, but it won’t be for long.’”

“So you added two and two together. You took a horrible risk. I think it qualifies as the stupidest risk I’ve ever seen in my whole life.”

He smiled. “I think you’re right.”

I managed to lean close enough to kiss him, and then Lucius bustled over, his green eyes gleaming. “All right now, break it up, you two!” He looked from one to the other of us. “You’re a real pair of old wrecks! I’m afraid that’s what you get for trying to take on the enemy all by yourselves.”

He crouched down and held out a hand to each of us. “Good work, Sis. You too, Quintus. Thank you both! But you certainly like living dangerously.”

“We didn’t have much choice,” I smiled back. “The cavalry turned up so late they almost missed the battle. Typical, of course, but….”

“There’s gratitude! Quintus, don’t let this sister of mine bully you the way she bullies me.” He was suddenly serious. “You’ve done well. Both of you. I’ll make sure the Governor gets to hear about it.”

The others came crowding round, Secundus, Titch, and Taurus, who knelt down beside us, his face full of concern.

“Are you both all right?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re both all right, Taurus,” I assured him. “Or we will be, once we get home.”

“Good. Now we’ve put an end to those bad men, home will be safe again.” And for once I didn’t feel like mocking his statement of the obvious. His few words were the best summing-up of all.

Secundus and Titch interrupted each other as they told how they’d managed to overpower the bogus legionaries, by creating a diversion, “just like the great Julius would have done….” They’d started a fire in one of the store-rooms and pretended it was out of control. They killed all seven guards, and had just armed everyone to set out and look for us, when Hawk appeared with the news that we’d been caught. As they were about to go with him to rescue us, Lucius and a troop of cavalry galloped down our track. At first Secundus thought this was yet another enemy trick and there was a nasty stand-off; but then Albia came out to see what all the noise was about, and ran straight into Lucius’ arms to welcome him home.

Hawk stood aloof, silent amid all the chatter, and after a while I got up and hobbled my way over to him. “Thank you, Hawk. You’ve saved our lives. We won’t forget this.”

“I’m glad we were in time.” He sighed. “But the Shadow of Death got away. So for me it’s not over yet.”

“Got away? But…oh yes, of course! I saw him come out of the tunnel. He had his escape route well planned.”

“Oh, he was clever. But one thing about tracking, it teaches you patience. Every man leaves tracks, even clever men. And Felix’s tracks will lead me to him in the end.”

The Shadow of Death is the only one still at large, as you know. Despite a lot of searching, he has escaped us, the only blot on an otherwise shining papyrus. All the other Shadow-men, plus several Druids, were captured in the next few days; as convicted criminals they’ll go to the arena. Whether they’re devoured by wild animals, or nailed up on crosses to die, they’ll deserve what they get.

Quintus and Lucius are confident they’ve destroyed the rebellion, despite Felix’s escape. The Shadow-men were at the core of the revolt, and their destruction has knocked the heart out of other would-be rebels. This part of Brigantia will soon be safe and peaceful again. Perhaps I should say “is,” not “will be,” because the killings have stopped; but there’s a lingering feeling of fear, and we Romans still take bodyguards with us when we travel the roads, and continue to guard our doors at nights. It’ll be a month or two, or even a year or two, before we can put those habits aside.

Yesterday we held a large dinner at the Oak Tree, to celebrate our birthdays, and also to thank all the friends who’d helped us. We made it a truly spectacular affair. As our grandmother would have said, if you’re pushing a boat out, make sure it’s a huge quinquereme with a golden sail. Cook did us proud: the centrepiece of the meal was an enormous arrangement of geese, ducks, and swans on a blue board representing a lake—it took four slaves to carry it in. There were oysters, various sorts of sea-fish, wild sucking pig, and venison, with a host of summer vegetables and some delicious marinated asparagus; and finally peaches in wine, honey cakes, and apples with ginger, figs and grapes, and five kinds of cheese. And the wine was the best, Gaulish red and Campanian white. We hired in some entertainers from Eburacum too—musicians, dancers, and a fire-eater. It was quite a party, and it went on till nearly dawn.

Silvanius came to our celebration, bearing up well despite being clearly heartbroken over Felix’s treachery and Vitalis’ death. He told anybody who would listen how the Shadow of Death had led astray his “poor dear boy.” If this cockeyed view of events comforts him, I suppose it can’t do any harm now. He made a speech, only a short one, thank the gods, including a call for Romans to stand together; even betrayal by a close Roman friend could not shake Clarus’ loyalty to the Empire. And to my delight, he presented us with a beautiful bronze statue of a horse, for our garden. “From the Oak Bridges Town Council,” he declared, “as a token of our gratitude for your help in our time of trouble.”

Balbus and Ennia were there too, and they’ve re-furbished and re-opened their shop. “The gods have given me justice,” Balbus told me, “with the death of young Marius. And there’s still a good living to be made in Brigantia.”

“Besides,” Ennia added gently, “we like it here. It’s where our friends are.”

Saturninus came along, newly appointed as aedile in succession to his father. Indeed most of the town council were there; I won’t bore you with the names. And all their ladies too; but I won’t bore you with the hairstyles.

Lucius and Quintus were the heroes of the night, and Secundus and his friends shared in the glory; Titch was allowed to join the party, on the one condition that he didn’t utter the name of Julius Caesar throughout the celebration. I think he managed it, and the high spot for him was when Quintus presented him with a new bugle, engraved with his name.

And now I just want to get back to normal life, running a peaceful and efficient mansio. The future for the Oak Tree looks good. Lucius is taking some leave, so he’ll be at home for another month or so. Uncle Titus is apparently very pleased with us all. He wrote a personal note to me and Albia, thanking us for our help, and promising to lend us some army builders next month, to repair the damage that the property has suffered, “and undertake any other necessary building work.” Brilliant—with their help, we can rebuild the stable block in stone.

And the future for Quintus and me? Good too, I think; interesting, certainly. My life will never be boring while he’s a part of it. How long he
will
be a part of it…well, who knows? Neither of us do, so we’ll take things as they come. He’ll stay with us for a while on leave, and he and I will have a proper chance to get to know each other, if one can ever really know a spy. I’ll just have to try my best, and see how it goes.

But if that’s any business of the Governor’s, then I’m the Queen of Brigantia.

About the History

Looking at life in Roman Britannia is like standing in the dark outside a large house (a villa perhaps?) and trying to peer in through the windows to examine the many rooms inside. Some rooms are brightly lighted, some tantalisingly dim, and others completely black. So parts of the house are plainly visible in great detail, but not all, and the lighted rooms are scattered, not adjacent.

Similarly, we know only certain aspects of the history of Britannia in real depth. Our knowledge is growing all the time, but can never be complete. This is a pain or a challenge, depending on your standpoint. To me, a writer who cares about historical truth, it is both.

Nowadays we tend to think of Roman Britain as rich and fairly peaceful throughout its four centuries of history, judging it by the impressive remains at Bath, perhaps, or on Hadrian’s wall. But in the first century AD it was a new province, frontier country, still not wholly pacified even by the 90s. That is especially true of the northern areas, like the old kingdom of Brigantia, where this book is set. While the conquest was going on, and for some years after it, life was much less settled and prosperous than it became later.

Aurelia, in 91 AD, would have known a good road system—indeed her livelihood at the mansio depended on it—and some towns, often rough but growing fast; and the first villas were being built in the countryside. But as an early settler in the province, she would have felt very much like colonists in any new outpost of Empire feel, by turns optimistic and insecure, but always determined to make a success of things. The Romans, like empire-builders through the ages, thought they had an absolute right to colonise wherever they chose, and were certain they were benefiting the peoples they conquered.

The natives they found in Britannia were Celts, but they did not think of themselves in any way as a single Celtic nation. They were divided into tribes, each with its own rulers and territory. Tribal attitudes to the Romans ranged from admiration to hatred. Aurelia would have encountered both, because the Oak Tree lies in the borderland territory between the Brigantes to the west, who were mainly anti-Roman, and the Parisi to the east, who welcomed the new conquerors. Tribal boundaries were vague and shifting even before the Romans came, but tribal identities were not wiped out by the conquest.

The geography of the book’s setting is real. So were, and are, most of the places in it. Eburacum, in 91 AD a new but growing military town, is modern York—and Eburacum is how it was spelt at this date; the more familiar Eboracum came later. Derventio is modern Malton, though some historians are now associating the name with Stamford Bridge as well, or instead—an example of how difficult it is to see some aspects of the period clearly. I have stayed faithful to Malton.

The Oak Tree mansio is fictitious, but I have placed it at a real location—at the bottom of what we now call Garrowby Hill, on a road originally built by the Romans, which is still an important main road two thousand years later. The native town of Oak Bridges is fictitious too, but it is in an area that was well settled by Celts and Romans, from Italy and from other parts of the Empire.

I have taken the liberty of speculating about what went on behind some of those darkened windows of history, and my setting and characters are as real as my research and imagination can make them.

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