Buried Too Deep (15 page)

“That is an appalling thing to happen,” Clarus exclaimed, “though I cannot say I’m surprised. We’ve been hearing disturbing reports of trouble in the wold country. To be frank, that’s why I asked you to visit me, Aurelia. I thought you might have up-to-date news of the state of things there from your sister. But I never expected such grim happenings. Has Candidus enough men to protect his farm? Is it safe for Albia to remain there?”

“Not really, and I tried to persuade her to stay with me at the Oak Tree for a while, but she won’t budge. I’ve been wondering about going over to Eburacum to buy some bodyguards for them all.”

“There’s no need for that. If Candidus will allow me to help, I should be glad to lend him half-a-dozen strong lads to guard him and Albia.”

“Clarus, that would be wonderful, thank you. Are you sure you can spare them?”

“Indeed yes, I’ve more guards than I need here, and my man Brutus will be pleased to lead them. You know he’ll do anything to help you and your family.”

“Brutus will be in charge of them? He’s worth three legionaries all by himself! That would be such a weight off my mind.”

“Brutus?” Quintus asked. “The ex-soldier who helped you out at the Oak Tree a few years ago? He’s an excellent man.”

“He is, and if Candidus and Albia have him to guard them, I’ll know that they are safe whatever happens.”

Clarus smiled. “Good. It shall be arranged then. I’ll send them over to the Oak Tree this afternoon.”

I thanked him again from my heart. For all his pomp and pride, he’d repeatedly shown himself a good friend to our family.

“Might you be visiting your sister again soon?” Clarus put the question diffidently, but I sensed it was important to him. Could I have stumbled on the reason for his generous gesture of help for my sister?

“I expect so, yes. I’m worried about them all, and if Albia refuses to come to Oak Bridges, I’ll have to go to her. Why? Is there some errand I can do for you while I’m there?”

“I confess there is, yes. Nothing onerous, just collecting information and impressions. Oh dear, this is a somewhat delicate matter. I should hate what I’m about to ask you to become widely known.”

“Then it won’t, Clarus. You can rely on us.”

“Of course, of course. Well, let me explain a little. My late wife was a cousin of Chief Bodvocus, and we still keep in touch with him and his family, even after all this time. The roots of kinship run very deep, you know. And Bodvocus has considerable local power among the Parisi.”

“As you do among the Brigantes.”

Clarus acknowledged Quintus’ compliment with a smile. “Exactly so. I’ve always felt that we who have been chosen to hold positions of responsibility in the Empire must work together, especially when it comes to preserving the Roman peace. And until this year there has been peace in the coastal areas, more so than here in Brigantia. I’m sure Bodvocus must take credit for that. But now I fear things have changed.”

“Because of a couple of boatloads of Gauls?” Quintus raised an eyebrow. “Are they really such a menace?”

Clarus took a long drink of his wine. “Not on their own, no. But a serious dispute has arisen between two powerful estates, and the pirates, bandits, whatever one should call them, are taking the chance to cause trouble at the same time. Bodvocus is one party to the dispute. The other is a settler called Ostorius Magnus, who’s bought a big parcel of land near the Headland. Do you know him, Antonius?”

“I’ve heard of him, but we haven’t met yet. What’s the dispute about?”

“Oh, not one particular thing, a score of minor issues. Boundaries, and livestock straying or disappearing, and farm boys getting into fights when they have drunk too much beer. All the usual rural problems, and individually each cause of contention is very small. Taken together they mean that the two men and their households are at daggers drawn most of the time. And I’m worried for Bodvocus’ safety. Not so much his physical well-being, I’m sure he can protect himself. But if he were to allow himself to be drawn into some long-running feud, and the Roman authorities got to hear of it…”

He has, and they have, I thought, but I left the talking to Quintus.

“Who started it, do you know?”

Clarus smiled. “That depends upon whose account you believe. Bodvocus says the Ostorii are behaving badly, throwing their weight about among their less powerful neighbours, who are merely retaliating when they go too far. Ostorius is apparently claiming the exact opposite. he says Bodvocus’ people are harassing his, because the Parisi are hostile to Roman settlement.”

“They never have been before,” I pointed out. “I can imagine a dispute between two rich farmers, that happens everywhere, but I simply don’t believe the Parisi have suddenly decided they don’t like Romans. Do you, Clarus?”

“I don’t know what to believe, Aurelia. I certainly hope you’re right. Bodvocus has written to me asking for my help, but I don’t in all honesty know what I can do. Intervening from this distance would be a major step to take. Before I decide, I’d like more information about the Ostorii, and indeed whether the situation is as serious as Bodvocus represents it.”

I could see where he was driving. He found it hard to believe that Roman settlers would disturb the peace, yet the people whose peace was being disturbed were his own kin.

“So you’d like me to go and stay with Albia, and while I’m there, ask around a little? Try to decide whether Magnus or Bodvocus is to blame for the trouble, or whether the whole affair is just an argument between powerful men that has got out of hand, and allowed a band of raiders to operate undisturbed?”

“My dear, as always you hit the mark exactly.”

“I’ll be glad to find out what I can, Clarus. If you’re helping keep my sister safe, that’s the very least I can do for you. And Quintus will be able to form his own opinion too, while he’s in the area. Won’t you?”

“Certainly. And you’re right not to rush into action without more information, Clarus. You show good judgment. Mind you, your judgment is always sound in matters like this.”

Clarus beamed. “Oh, thank you both, that’s excellent. I find it painful even to contemplate taking sides with either of them against the other. But if I must, I want my actions to be rooted in fact, not rumour. Magnus is a well-respected Roman, just the sort of man we need to make his home in this province. But Bodvocus is my kinsman. We visited him this time last year, you know, for the feast of Beltane. A splendid occasion, wasn’t it, Clarilla?”

Clarilla had remained silent throughout all this. At mention of her name she stirred in her chair and said “Oh yes indeed,” reminding me of the way I’d answered the talkative trader Curtius when my mind was fully occupied elsewhere. I hadn’t long to wait to find where her thoughts had been taking her.

“Aurelia, I believe you had a visit from Ostorius Magnus recently, didn’t you?”

“I did. He and his nephew Vividus came over to buy horses. And Vividus had a bad tooth, poor man, which Timaeus pulled out for him. They were talking about their ambitions to make their farm bigger and better, and they mentioned that they’d met with some local hostility, but didn’t go into much detail.”

“What did you think of them?”

“They seemed very pleasant, especially Vividus, who’s a real charmer. Magnus was civil enough, inclined to be a shade grumpy, but I don’t think it was anything personal. Vividus was very good company. I’d say they’ll be an asset to the area, although I’d guess they would make bad enemies if one got on the wrong side of them. But I don’t know them well, they were only at the mansio a few hours. They visited you here, didn’t they?”

“Indeed they did,” Clarus answered, “but as you say, it is impossible to form a true impression in just a few short hours.”

“Do you think they’ll really take to life in this part of the Empire?” Clarilla asked. “They’re both ex-army, and they’ve only recently moved north into Britannia.”

“I don’t see why not. They seem efficient and determined to make a go of their land. A bit raw, perhaps, like so many Romans when they first arrive to live in a new province. What did you both make of them?”

“I liked them both,” Clarus said.

“But I did
not
like them,” Clarilla said firmly. “I didn’t take to either of them, though I agree they tried their best to be likeable. I thought that Magnus was an overbearing bully, and Vividus was too much in love with himself to have time for anyone else.”

This unfavourable assessment surprised me. Clarilla was usually easy-going and tolerant, and enjoyed making friends with everyone. But I couldn’t deny she’d unerringly picked out the two men’s major faults. “I do agree that Vividus fancies himself as the gods’ gift to women. He tried out his charms on me, but it was all very gentlemanly, just harmless flirting.”

“I’ve no objection to a little flirting,” she smiled. “
That
wasn’t what worried me.”

“Then what?”

“They both struck me as too greedy, with all their talk of enlarging their property by buying out the smaller farmers. There was a ruthlessness there that made me wonder how far they would go to get what they want.”

Quintus said, “Surely there’s nothing wrong in wanting to expand one’s farm? One man’s greed is another man’s healthy ambition.”

“Indeed, that was my thought. And ambition is what has made our Empire great,” Clarus declared.

Clarilla frowned. “That’s as may be. But they don’t care what they do to other people, they’ll just roll over any opposition and crush it. They’re powerful, and rich, and they can use the law to get their own way.”

This was so like what Divico had said that it made me sit up and look at Clarilla closely. There was more to this than met the eye.

“Clarilla, they’ve obviously upset you in some way. I agree they’re a bit rough-and-ready, but they’ll calm down when they’ve lived here a while.”

“I’m not so sure. They made some very disparaging remarks about people here. For instance Magnus told us he’d encountered hostility from the tribesmen near the coast, but it didn’t worry him, he said, because ‘the natives in northern Britannia are all barbarians, even if they don’t wear blue paint nowadays.’”

“Ouch! That was wrong of him, as well as stupid,” I said, and Quintus nodded in agreement. I picked up my goblet and took a drink of wine, to give myself time to think. Privately I couldn’t help agreeing with Magnus to some extent: many of our natives
are
still barbarians under the skin, but by no means all, and certainly not Clarus and his sister. They were examples of how people born in Britannia can become completely Roman. And the Ostorii had taken them for Romans from Italia, or at least from one of the older provinces, Spain maybe or Gaul. In one sense that should be a source of pride to them, because they strove to be Roman in everything. But their family in Britannia was an old and aristocratic one, relatively civilised even before our legions came, and they’d made it clear already that they weren’t in the least ashamed of their origins.

“I suspect they’re not used to civilian life in a frontier province,” Quintus said. “That’s the most likely explanation for such rudeness. As Aurelia says, they’ll settle down and learn to behave themselves. Forgive me for asking, Clarus, but I get the feeling that your interest in the Ostorii goes a bit beyond what they may or may not be doing to your kinfolk on the coast. Have they offered you some kind of business proposition?”

Clarus smiled. “They have, Antonius. Magnus has proposed a marriage between his nephew Vividus and Clarilla.”

Clarilla wasn’t smiling. Her grim expression told its own tale.

“I’d offer congratulations, Clarilla,” I said, “but you don’t look exactly happy abut this.”

“I’m not.” She pushed back a strand of fair hair that had escaped from the elaborate silver net. “I know that marriages in a family such as ours are, as my brother says, business alliances. If I marry again I’m not expecting to fall in love like a silly slip of a girl. But if I take another husband, I want someone I can at least like and respect.”

“These—ah—intuitive feelings are important, of course, my dear,” Clarus said, patting his sister’s hand. “And for that reason I have not given Ostorius a definite answer, but told him I must consider it, and talk to you about it. But it would be an extremely suitable match for you, you know. They’re a good Roman family, and wealthy in both money and land, as I understand it. Once they’ve established themselves here, they’re going to be important people in this part of Britannia.”

“Not as important to me as you are, Publius. You need somebody here to run your house and act as hostess when you entertain. I enjoy doing that, and I’d much rather go on doing it than be tied to Ostorius Vividus.”

“My dear, you know I don’t want you to be unhappy. But I think you’re being a little over-hasty, since we hardly know the Ostorii as yet. Once Aurelia and Quintus have had time to do a little investigating for us…”

“Yes, of course. I know you’ll both do your best, won’t you?”

We both assured her again that we would, and I sensed that our meeting was over, and it was time to be on our way. “If you’ll excuse us, I think we should be heading back to the mansio now. You know what it’s like when you’ve been away from home for two days, you come back and find at least three days’ work has piled up in your office.”

Clarilla smiled. “Just before you go, Aurelia, I’ve made a copy of that recipe you wanted for preserving grapes through the winter. If you come along with me to the kitchen, I’ll give it you now.”

“Recipe?” My mind was as blank as an unwritten note-tablet.

“Yes. You said you’d give it to your cook to try.” She gazed at me intently, while I racked my brains and completely failed to remember asking for a recipe. And why would I want to think about grapes at this time of year?

“It really won’t take long,” she said, and her voice, usually so warm and easy, held an underlying note of—what? Anxiety? Warning? Desperation?

Sometimes I’m so slow I’d have trouble keeping pace with a tortoise. Clarilla must be wanting to talk to me on my own, and this was her way of getting me away from her brother. I stood up. “Of course! I’m amazed you’ve persuaded your chef to part with one of his famous recipes…”