In the Shadow of the Wall (47 page)

The weary trek southwards went on for day after day. One day, they passed the great Roman Wall that Brude had spoken of. he gladis amazed at how strong it was. No wonder Brude had talked about it. He had little time to admire it, though. They were marched through the gates and onwards with no rest.

On the other side of the Wall was the cobbled Roman road that Brude had told him about. He wondered whether he was now marching along the same part of the road the former gladiator had walked on when he had first been captured.

By now there were over a hundred captives, all chained together in coffles, all hungry and exhausted by the long marches, dirty and grimed with sweat, all heading ever southwards towards the heart of the empire. Then the weather, which had remained fine for several weeks, turned. The sky grew dark with heavy, grey clouds, which gathered ominously, blanketing the sky. The rain began as heavy drops which splattered on the road and on their faces, but the few drops turned to many as the downpour began. They were soon soaked, their clothes heavy with water, weighing them down and sticking clammily to their skin. The deluge continued all day. They had no shelter that night, so were forced to sleep in the open. The soldiers escorting them tried to light fires but with little success, the sodden wood producing more smoke than flames. The captives huddled together under some trees, trying to stay as warm as they could but it was a miserable night and they got little sleep.

The next day brought more rain in scattered showers, interspersed with bouts of warm sunshine. The same pattern continued for the next few days. Many of the prisoners began coughing, sneezing and feeling unwell. Castatin was one of those who was affected. His head felt hot and his body was wracked with shivers. He wanted to stop, to lie down and rest, but he saw the guards beating anyone who did that, forcing them to stand and press on, so he held on to Barabal and she helped him trudge on for mile after mile, his bones aching and his head throbbing. Yet, in one way he was almost happy because Barabal began speaking to him again. He thought she was, at last, coming out of the depression that had gripped her for so many days. Even if it was only because he was now unwell, he was pleased to hear her encourage him, to see her eyes free of the numb blankness that had engulfed her. There was hope for her yet.

They lost count of the days but eventually they reached a great city with massive walls, large buildings of brick and stone, temples with columns and brightly painted statues, and wide open spaces surrounded by colonnades. The place was crowded with people who stopped to point and stare at them. They were taken to a large wooden structure, which Castatin, even through his fever, recognised when they went inside. It was an amphitheatre. He had listened to Brude’s tales of what went on in the arena and he felt his legs turn weak when the soldiers marched them in at spear point before releasing them from the coffles. Castatin thought they were going to be made to fight each other or, worse, be eaten by wild animals. He clung to Barabal’s hand, waiting for the end, feeling the tears spring to his eyes. He was in no condition to fight anyone and felt too ill even to walk any further, let alone run from wild beasts.

The soldiers finished unshackling them then left through the same gateway, closing the huge doors behineight="0/font>

And nothing happened.

Castatin looked around. He saw that the rows of seats around the amphitheatre were empty except for a handful of soldiers who were slowly patrolling the tiers, watching the slaves in the arena. There were other captives already in the arena. They were sitting or lying down on the earth floor with no danger threatening them. Relief washed over him and he almost laughed aloud.

“What is it?” Barabal asked.

“This is the place where they make people fight, but I think they are just using it to hold us here because there are so many of us.”

“Is that good?” Barabal asked, puzzled.

“Well it means we are still alive, so I think that’s pretty good.”

“We should try to escape,” she said.

He smiled weakly when he saw the spirit in her eyes once more. He was glad, but his thumping headache and the hot flushes coursing through his body meant that he could muster little enthusiasm. “You are right, but I need to rest. I feel awful.” He slumped to the ground and lay down. The earth was hard-packed and damp but he did not care. The afternoon sun was warm and all he wanted to do was sleep. From far away he heard Barabal calling his name but he was too tired to answer.

In the early morning, Brude climbed to the top of the broch with Mairead. The view from the narrow parapet was incredible. They could see for miles inland, as well as southwards and westwards along the river. The sky was clear, with only light clouds, bringing the promise of another fine day.

Down below, people were already stirring but Brude’s eyes were fixed westwards, surveying the river valley. The low hills and the volcanic plug of the Law blocked a lot of the view but away in the distance, where the river faded to the horizon, he saw what he had feared.

Thin tendrils of smoke were rising skywards, twisting and dissipating in the light breeze. They were a long way away, over twenty miles, but they were clearly visible, grey streaks against the blue sky.

He pointed them out to Mairead. “What is it?” she asked.

“I think it is Peart. The Romans are coming.”

Brude called the villagers together. They gathered on the green outside the broch, where he had confronted Lutrin and his men the day before. They stood or sat on the grass as he faced them, Mairead at his side. Fothair gave them a knowing look and grinned.

Brude felt uncertain. All of them were watching him, nearly two hundred men, women and children waiting for him to speak but he had no words of encouragement to give them. He felt Mairead’s hand gently resting on his arm, offering support. He coughed before saying what he had to say. “We do not have much time, because I believe the Romans are coming. There is smoke from the direction of Peart. Homes are burning. They will be here soon.”

There were murmurs of concern from the crowd. Caroc asked, “What will they do when they get here?”

“They seem to be coming intent on conquest. I cannot say for sure, but I expect they intend to kill or enslave anyone they find.” This was his greatest fear, a fear he now saw reflected in the faces of the villagers. The raid from the sea had shown what the Romans were like. He held up a hand to quieten them. “I am happy to listen to whatever plan anyone else can offer, but my belief is that we have only one chance. We need to make them think we are already defeated. I will have to talk to them, to try to persuade them there is nothing here for them. We must show them we are beaten already.”

“And how do we do that?” asked old Seoras.

“We knock down the gates to the stockade, burn a couple more houses near the main gate, and empty the broch. They will certainly want it destroyed.”

There were cries of protest at this. He let them talk for a while but it soon became clear that nobody had any other suggestions. Brude went on. “It would be best if the young men and women were able to hide somewhere out of sight in the woodlands. In fact, it would be best if everyone could hide until I can learn what the Romans intend. So you should gather up what you can carry and head into the woods.”

“Why don’t we go to Dun Nechtan?” Seoras asked.

Brude shook his head sadly. “Because that is where the Romans will go next. If they are intent on destruction, Dun Nechtan will not save us.”

“So you are saying we should hide in the forests until they are gone, or just sit here hoping that they think we areign="justith killing or taking as slaves?” It was Oengus, Gartnait’s son, freed from his shackles only the previous evening yet already challenging Brude’s authority. Brude had an insight into how Colm must have felt when he himself had returned to the village so unexpectedly.

Staring back at Oengus, he replied, “That is exactly what I am saying. You are free to do what you want. Anyone who wants to try to get to Dun Nechtan should go now, for the Romans could be here in a few hours. Those who want to stay have two choices. Either to gather as much as they can and head inland, to hide in the forests, or to wait here and hope I can persuade the Romans that the village is harmless. I will assure them that there will be no resistance. If they want the broch and the rest of the village burned, we will not protest. When they have gone everyone can come back and try to rebuild, or build somewhere else. But as soon as I can, I must go to try to find Castatin and Barabal.”

Seoc nodded. That last part was what he wanted to hear. Oengus, though, was not satisfied. “But you will be safe because you are a Roman yourself. You can just walk away and leave us here to suffer whatever the Romans want to do to us.” Whatever else a year in slavery had done to Oengus, it had not made him any less hostile to Brude. The young man spat on the ground. “If Peart is truly destroyed then I am going to Dun Nechtan. There are warriors there who will fight, not cowards who want to run and hide.”

“Do as you wish, and take anyone else who wants to go,” Brude told him bluntly. He did not think it was worth telling Oengus that Nechtan intended to submit to
Rome
if he could. The young man would discover that soon enough.

There was more discussion, more questions but there was nothing else Brude could tell them. In the end, Oengus, who clearly had no intention of going back to Peart to see what had become of his family, decided to go north to Dun Nechtan. Many of the warriors, together with some of their women and children, went with him. Fothair urged Brude to stop them but Brude said that everyone should make their own decision about what they wanted to do. “I don’t know what is for the best,” he admitted. “Perhaps they are right.”

Caroc was appointed to lead the bulk of the remaining villagers into the woodland to the east. He began organising work parties to gather as many supplies as they could. They ransacked the broch where they found a great store of Roman coins, which Caroc gave to Brude. “You should have these,” the burly smith told him. “We won’t need them.”

Seoras announced that he would stay in the village. Quite a few of the older men and women said they would stay, too. “We’re too old to go traipsing around in the forests,” Seoras said. “And I doubt the Romans will want us as slaves.”

“Perhaps not,” agreed Brude, “but that is not all they can do.”

“You mean they might kill us? Well, we will take that chance. You can use your magic on them and persuade them to leave us in peace.”

Brude was appalled at the faith the villagers had in him. He was not at all sure that he would be able to persuade the Romans to leave the villagers unharmed. “I have no real rank among the Romans,” he told Seoras. “I was a slave. Even after I was freed, I was still at the bottom of their society. They are just as likely to kill me as to listen to me.”

“You underestimate yourself,” Seoras told him, which made Brude feel simultaneously better and yet more worried.

Brude turned to Fothair. “Could you go and look for a horse for me, before Oengus and his men take them all? I have a couple of things to do but then I’d better go and try to find out where the Romans are.”

“I’ll get two,” said Fothair. “I thought I’d tag along with you for a while. I’d like to see
Rome
.”

Brude was relieved. He had wanted to ask Fothair to come with him but he was reluctant to, in case the tall man took it as an order. Better that he came of his own accord. “Thank you. But I have no intention of going all the way to
Rome
. Come to think of it, we’ll need three horses, one each plus a spare to carry food and act as a replacement if one should go lame. If we can get past the army, we will be pushing our mounts hard.”

“I’ll see to it,” Fothair said with a decisive nod.

“We’ll not have many horses left at this rate,” Caroc pointed out.

“And we’ll need four,” said Mairead.

Brude stiffened. He twisted his head to look at her. “Why?”

“If you think I’m letting you go away without me, after I’ve only just found you, you have another think coming. We will find our son together.”