In the Shadow of the Wall (56 page)

Brude saw Barabal smile at that, and was pleased. She seemed to enjoy being around Fothair who was just about the only person who
could
make her smile.

“Civilisation comes at a price,” Brude said to Caralugnus. “You are free to do as you want as long as what you want is the same thing the Romans want.”

“I suspect that is the same whoever is in charge,” replied Caralugnus.

“Maybe so, but the Romans enforce it far more effectively than anyone else. Didn’t one of their own writers say that they like to make a desert and then call it peace?”

Caralugnus was impressed. “You have read Tacitus’ work?”

“My friend Cleon has read it,” Brude admitted. “But the other thing to keep in mind is that the poor in the empire are very poor indeed. Among the Boresti we care for our sick and elderly and nobody really goes hungry.”

“The Romans believe people should work to earn their living. Festus said you had lived in
Rome
itself. I would have thought you would appreciate all the things life in the empire can offer.”

Brude did not want to offend his host but he also wanted his friends to understand what was at stake. “The material things
Rome
can offer are beyond question,” he said. “It is the things of the spirit that we risk losing. The soul of our people. For myself, I am not sure the price is worth paying.”

Caralugnus nodded politely. “Well, each to his own. I have a cousin who still insists on living in a traditional village. He refuses to have any more to do with the Romans than he has to. But as for you, I fear you may have little choice in the matter. I hear that Caracalla is subduing all who oppose him in
Caledonia
.”

Brude had heard that too. The official announcements were of great victories, towns taken and fierce tribes defeated, but he had also heard from Cleon that things were not going entirely the Romans’ way. The Maeatae and the Caledonii were proving elusive, engaging in hit and run attacks rather than meeting the legions in open battle. “According to Lucius, it’s going to be a long, slow job,” Cleon had reported. In the end, though, there could only be one victor.

Caralugnus diplomatically changed the subject. Turning to Castatin he as, “How is your health, young man? You still seem in some discomfort.”

“My chest is still tight, sir,” Castatin answered, “but I am feeling a lot better than I was.”

“I’m afraid that it will be several weeks before he is fit to travel,” Brude said. “We must impose on your hospitality for some time yet.”

“It is a pleasure for me to have you here,” Caralugnus replied. “Anyway, I would not recommend travelling back north just now. Not while there is a war on. Best to stay here until things settle down.”

So they stayed a few more weeks, trying to keep a low profile. Caralugnus, obviously a more important figure than he let on, had many clients who visited him daily to pay their respects. Brude discovered that the nobleman had paid for the construction of a local temple for the worship of the imperial family. Their host was obviously a man of some means who was well regarded by the Romans.

Brude had wanted to be away by the time of the Lughnasa festival, which would still allow plenty of time to return to Broch Tava before the colder weather arrived. He was worried about what might have happened to his mother and old Seoras, and about the villagers who had fled into the forests with Caroc. They needed food and shelter for the winter and harvest time was approaching.

Despite his wishes, events conspired against him. By the time Castatin’s health had improved enough to make travel possible, Barabal was looking pale and feeling permanently tired. Brude heard her being sick one morning but when he asked her what was wrong, she told him it was just an upset stomach. But she was sick again the next morning. Mairead told him what the problem was. “She’s pregnant.”

“Don’t look at me!” Fothair protested in response to Brude’s first reaction.

“You’ve been very friendly with her these past weeks,” Brude commented.

“Not
that
friendly,” said Fothair. “I mean, I would have, but she’s been through a hard time and she just needs friends at the moment.”

“She needs to know it was not her fault that she was raped,” Mairead insisted, “and she certainly needs to know that the baby will be hers, one of the Boresti, not a Roman.” She looked at the two men and shook her head, clearly suggesting they were not up to the task. “I’ll talk to her. You two would just upset her.”

Whatever Mairead said to Barabal seemed to put the girl ts mind at rest but the pregnancy made her extremely unwell. She had difficulty keeping any food down and was permanently tired. Then she began to worry that her child would not have a father but, as soon as Fothair heard that, he solved the problem by telling her that he would be the father if she wanted him. She smiled and said yes, so they had a small celebration feast. The two of them spoke the words in front of Brude and Mairead as their witnesses and they were married. Fothair immediately stopped going to the bathhouse during the morning, visiting instead during the late afternoon when women were not allowed in.

Barabal, though, was too unwell to travel far, so the feast of Lughnasa came and went and the long, wet summer slowly turned to autumn, bringing biting winds and more rain. Brude resigned himself to the probability of staying in Eboracum for the winter. He was not bored because Cleon was always willing to talk, but the call of home was strong in him now. He was torn between the desire to return north with his new family and wanting to stay near Cleon.

To pass the time during their enforced stay, he took Mairead and Castatin on long walks round the city, teaching them some Latin and how to read some of the simpler signs. They enjoyed being together and life in Eboracum was easy for them, because they were staying with Caralugnus and Brude still had plenty of money. After a while, though, Mairead admitted that the attractions of the city were not so great that she would relish staying permanently.

Some days later, they got a reminder of the harsher side to life under the Romans when they saw slaves being herded onto ships that were moored on the broad river, preparing to sail out to sea and south towards
Rome
. Mairead put her arm round Castatin’s shoulders, holding him close, knowing that if things had turned out differently he could have been among the captives being shepherded on to the galleys.

In Caralugnus’ home, things were more pleasant. The nobleman often invited other people to dine with them, mostly wealthy Romano-Britons, like himself, so Brude kept up with all the gossip. As the days grew shorter and nightfall came earlier, he heard some momentous news. The emperor had returned to Eboracum, bringing his wife, who always accompanied him on campaign, together with a host of Praetorian Guards. Eboracum was, once again, the centre of government for the whole empire. It threatened to be an uncertain government, for the emperor was said to be very ill, so ill it was rumoured he might not last the winter. Caracalla had been left to continue the fighting in
Caledonia
.

Unbidden, Veleda’s words came back to haunt Brude.
Cut off the head and the beast will die
, she had said. He recalled, vividly, the long night that he and Fothair had spent talking with Nechtan’s druid in her hut. Trouble elsewhere would make the Romans leave, Brude had told her. Yet trouble was not likely to erupt with Septimius Severus as emperor, for he had an iron fist and thirty legions at his command. He had kept the empire under control for seventeen years.

But if the emperor were to die, everything would change. Brude realised that there might be salvation for his people after all. If he was prepared to pay the price as Veleda had suggested.

Eboracum A.D. 210

Julia Domna, wife of the emperor Septimius Severus, was a formidable woman. At forty years old, she was twenty-five years younger than her husband but she was every bit his equal in ambition and astuteness. Some said she was his superior in intellect. She had created a stir in
Rome
by insisting on accompanying her husband on his campaigns against
Parthia
, ignoring the tradition which kept most upper class Roman wives at home while their husbands went off to war. In a society that normally allowed women no role in public life, she was an exception, regarded by many as the real power behind the imperial throne. Cleon, always a source of gossip, said that Severus reputedly made no major political decisions without discussing them with his wife first. Rumour said he always followed her advice. She was well read, spoke Greek and Punic as well as Latin, and was interested in philosophy to such an extent that she had been known to argue with some of the famous Greek sophists who were trained in rhetoric.

She sat at the head of the table beside her younger son, Geta, leading the after-dinner conversations on whatever subject happened to crop up. Brude, sitting at the far end, beside Caralugnus, made a point of keeping quiet, content to merely listen to the conversation. He had been surprised by the invitation but Caralugnus had insisted he come along as his guest. Mairead had selected some new clothes for him, trimmed his hair and sent him off with a kiss and a look of envy. “I wish I was going,” she had said. Brude had wished that he was not going.

Still, he could not help but be impressed with the way Julia Domna acted. She was elegant and poised but, while she was not unattractive, the things that were most notable about her were her wit and intelligence.

There were around thirty guests at the table, mostly local nobles like Caralugnus, although there was a handful of Geta’s officers, including Lucius. It soon became evident that Julia Domna was keen to let everyone know that, even though her husband was seriously ill, she was hopeful that he would recover. She made it plain that, if he did not, the empire would still be in safe hands. “My husband has named both of our sons as Caesar,” she said pleasantly. “I can assure you all that between them they have the abilirty govern the empire. Caracalla is turning out to be a very successful general, just like his father, while Geta here has proved he is a very able administrator. So I am sure that, if the worst were to happen, which I pray it will not, my sons are more than capable of taking over.”

Caralugnus leaned over to Brude and whispered, “What she means is that she will rule through them.” He grinned mischievously, “Mind you, I think she’d make a better emperor than either of them.”

Julia Domna was a charming and entertaining hostess. She made a point of speaking to each of her guests. When they had arrived, she had greeted each one, standing at the doorway, dressed in a long dress of green silk, her hair curled and piled high on her head. Brude had been introduced to her by Caralugnus as a chieftain of the Caledonii but she had obviously been well briefed. Smiling at Brude, she said, “You must be the ex-gladiator. You have done well to rise to become a chieftain of one of our allies.”

Brude replied modestly, “I am the son of the former chieftain of one very small village, my lady. I was not even elected as head man before I had to leave and come down here.”

“Yes, I hear there was an unfortunate mistake over your son. He is well, I trust?”

“He is fine now, my lady. Thank you.” Brude was impressed at her knowledge. Her description of Castatin’s capture as an unfortunate mistake was a clever piece of political wordplay, designed to ensure that he remained an ally of
Rome
, however insignificant he or his village were. He wondered how she would have described Cruithne’s death and the burning of the village.

Her attempts to charm everyone were only partly successful because rumours about the emperor’s failing health continued to circulate, despite official announcements that he was recovering.

Lying in bed that night, Mairead was full of questions about the empress. She complained when Brude was not able to give a detailed description of the empress’s clothes, hair and make-up. “Why do men never pay attention to that sort of thing?” she asked him when his answers were too vague for her liking.

Mairead was fascinated by Julia Domna. Even in the short time she had been in Eboracum, Mairead had noticed how little influence women had outside the home, so she was delighted to learn that there was at least one Roman woman who exercised real power. “Is she pretty?” she asked Brude.