Shadows in the Night (36 page)

I whistled at the dogs, and amazingly they stopped attacking. It looked impressive, but probably it was just that the fallen man was lying still now, blood all over his face and chest, so the hounds stood still too, looming over him and daring him to move a muscle.

Veric wasn’t done yet. I saw him go tense and instinctively flung myself to the right as he sprang at me, hands outstretched like claws. I held the sword straight out pointing at his belly, so he couldn’t come in too close, but he circled round me, forcing me to keep moving, hoping I’d stumble on a tree-root and give him an opening. There was every chance of it too; the ground was uneven and I wasn’t exactly used to this sort of thing. Now that the battle-fever was leaving me I began to be afraid, and I hadn’t the faintest clue what to do next.

Then I caught another quick flash of movement in the trees, directly behind Veric. I couldn’t see anyone there, but it must be another enemy. Gods, I thought, I’m finished. I can’t deal with more of them while Veric’s still on his feet, and I haven’t the skill to kill him. I hoped I’d be able to give one of them a serious wound before they got me.

Then that cool detached voice, which was like Lucius talking in my head, spoke again. “If he’s hiding, he must be a friend. Hold on, and keep Veric busy. Help’s coming!”

And as the thought came to me, a voice, a real voice this time, roared out: “Stand still, you scum. Freeze!” It was like a centurion’s bellow on a parade ground, and instinctively Veric half-turned. I raised the sword, preparing to stab him, but there was a hissing noise, a silver streak flew through the air, and a long, thin knife caught him in the cheek. He cried out, clutching at his face, but I wasn’t watching him really; my eyes were on Quintus, who was emerging from the trees with his sword in his hand.

He ran to us, stabbed Veric expertly up through the chest, watched the body fall, and pulled his sword out, all without a word. Then he turned to me.

“Hello, Aurelia.” He smiled as if we’d met in the course of an evening stroll. “Having trouble?”

“I’m fine, now, Quintus. Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure.”

I bent to pick up his thin-bladed knife, which had fallen to the ground. As I reached for it, my eye was caught by a boot-print near Veric’s body. The ground was thick with them, of course, but this one happened to be easy to spot. It was from a left boot, with a worn heel and part of the stitching missing from the sole. So Veric was one of the men who attacked Quintus. I pointed it out to him, and he said, “I’ll look soon. First let’s deal with the other man.”

I called the dogs away, and Quintus bent over him briefly, and nodded. “Your hounds have finished him off.”

“Good.”

“Lucky they were with you. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. I had to keep in cover and work my way round to you. I was near the stables when I heard you yelling, and I saw you run across the field, but there was no point both of us behaving like idiots.”

I stared at him. “Is that what I did? Behaved like an idiot?”

He cleaned his sword-blade on Veric’s tunic, then surveyed me like a drill-master looking at the lowliest recruit. “Racing across open ground, charging blind straight into the enemy when you couldn’t see them….It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life.”

“You must have led a very sheltered life then,” I snapped. “In my book, it’s not stupid to take risks, if you’re defending something you value.”

I turned my back and started to walk away, too angry to say any more. I mean, when you’ve scared yourself nearly to death trying to save something precious, what you don’t need is some arrogant man telling you you’ve been stupid. Even if he’s just saved your life.
Especially
if he’s just saved your life.

“Aurelia, look, I didn’t mean it like that…” he said, but I ignored him. I headed back across the open paddock, and saw Hippon there, squatting down by the body of the shot foal. The other horses were calming down, now the excitement was over.

As I strode on, Quintus came up beside me and touched my arm. “Please wait.”

I walked faster.

“Stop, Aurelia, let me explain. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I was so terrified, thinking of what they might do to you. If anything happened to you I’d…I’d….”

“You’d what? Laugh yourself sick, presumably, at my stupidity in getting myself killed!”

“I don’t know what I’d do. I love you. I don’t want to think about life without you.”

At that I did stop. The rest of the conversation isn’t relevant to this report.

Diana gave us a moon that night. She also provided a sky full of beautiful stars, or perhaps that was Venus’ doing, because there was even a little time for Quintus and me to gaze at them, and make love in my favourite private spot in the garden. It was wonderful; we forgot our troubles for a while, and I wouldn’t have believed I could be so happy, with my whole world threatening to collapse around me.

But we couldn’t relax for long. We had to check our defences, post guards, and distribute supplies of fireballs and boiling cauldrons. Albia, Quintus and I took watches in turn. We’d have included the tribunes in the roster, but they hadn’t come home by dark. Their two servants appeared eventually, and reported that their masters had gone off to spend the evening with a couple of natives down by the river. Marius’ man smirked and said, “They’re only young, they’ve got to sow their wild oats.”

The officers still hadn’t come home by morning. Albia was desperately anxious about Junius, and I was uneasy too, but I tried to reassure her. Junius must be involved in his investigations, but he and Marius were due to be at the temple dedication, and they’d have to return to the mansio first, to put on their parade armour. And as she wasn’t coming to the dedication, she’d be there to welcome them. She’d been invited, of course, and would have liked to attend. But she realised that with things as they were, I needed to leave someone I could trust in charge at the Oak Tree.

It was a beautiful day, and I was in high spirits as I got through my morning chores. There was plenty of time, because the dedication was to take place about an hour before noon. In Rome or Londinium I daresay they do these things differently and it would have begun at dawn, but here in our small town, people would be gathering from many miles around, and needed time to travel there.

I chose my clothes carefully. This was a grand occasion, Silvanius’ Big Day, and I didn’t want to let the Oak Tree down. I wore my pale blue embroidered tunic, with the sky-blue over-tunic that exactly matched the colour of the embroidery. I also wore my pale blue scarf made of silk, a wonderful thing, so light and delicate; Lucius had brought it back from the east, and I kept it for very special occasions. I completed the outfit with two gold brooches with blue and white enamelling. Though I say it myself, I was pleased with the effect, as I studied the reflection that gazed back out of my bronze mirror. From the look in his eye, Quintus was happy with it too, and I was pleased with his appearance. Freshly bathed and shaved and in a gleaming new toga, he would do the Oak Tree credit, and me.

We took the largest carriage, with four of the best mules. Milo drove us; he was a good driver, but I felt a pang as I thought of Titch and wondered if we’d ever see his cocky smile again. Taurus, Brutus and two field-hands rode alongside as guards. As we set off for Oak Bridges, I felt a thrill of pride—and of excitement. After all our troubles, today would be a holiday, and I was all set to enjoy it.

Chapter XXIV

The temple looked superb. The workmen must have toiled day and night to get every last thing ready, but they’d done it, and the result was magnificent. In the bright sunlight the white marble-clad columns were dazzling, and the white walls of the sanctum displayed their beautifully painted pictures to perfection. They showed a whole variety of gods and goddesses who were intended to bring us peace and fertility. I saw Apollo with his lyre, Minerva with an owl, Neptune with a dolphin, and I was especially pleased to see Diana there with a crescent moon, and offered her a quick prayer.

As Quintus and I went up the steps to the big, open forecourt in front of the sanctum, the statues of Jupiter and of Juno gleamed brilliantly, that wonderful pale gold of newly cast bronze. They hadn’t been painted at all; this was unusual, but the effect was stunning, because the figures had been so expertly sculpted. The big stone altar stood waiting to receive its first sacrifice, flanked by tubs of ornamental trees; the water in the pink marble basin glittered in the sun and cascaded gracefully away over the stones. A tripod held a holy flame in a bronze urn, and the smell of frankincense wafted from it. Well, all right, you don’t want a lyric poem in praise of every stick and stone; suffice it to say that no expense had been spared, and the temple was rich, stylish, and impressive.

The wide open space was large, but it was quite full, and more people were arriving all the time. I looked round the assembled worthies to see who was present; everyone who was anyone, that’s who. I pointed some of them out to Quintus. The town council of course were out in force in their best togas. Even Felix wore formal dress today, and very handsome he looked with his yellow hair combed straight for once. I waved to him and he waved back, but the crush was such that we couldn’t easily get over to him. As the crowd grew, quite a few curious glances were directed at Quintus and me. I introduced Quintus Valerius Longinus the bridge builder to one or two couples within reach, including Balbus and Ennia. I was glad to see them there; I don’t suppose they were feeling much like celebrating, but they’d come to do their Romans-standing-together bit for Silvanius.

The councillors’ wives hadn’t missed the chance to wear their best finery, and I was glad I’d gone to some trouble over my appearance. I saw that Ennia and several other ladies had a new hairstyle, a particular way of piling up curls with gold netting and ivory combs. I hadn’t seen it before, and I made a point of complimenting Ennia and asking where the style came from. She said one of the other wives had recently returned from a trip to Rome with news of the latest hair fashions there. It did look good, new and interesting. I know it’s ridiculous how we all still follow Roman fashion, even though by the time the style gets to us in the wilds of the north, Roman ladies will have long ago moved on to something else—they were probably all wearing red wigs with green feathers by now.

Silvanius was a member of one of the Colleges of Priests at Eburacum, a useful honour for an aspiring Roman politician, as long as he’s rich. This meant he would take an important part in the dedication himself, and when everyone was assembled he took centre stage to start the production off. Sorry, no irreverence intended, but we all know that religion and theatre aren’t all that far apart, and I could tell that Silvanius was relishing his leading role. He would be assisted by two full-time professional priests, one from Jupiter’s temple at Eburacum, the other from Juno’s. There was an augur to read the omens, and several underlings hovered about in the background. Vitalis was in the main crowd, near Felix; his part must come later. The priests, including Silvanius, were in white robes with ritual head-dresses like crowns, with plaques of silver and gold hanging from them, flashing as they moved in the sunlight. Yes, I thought, this is just right. The gods should be worshipped in style, and today they will be.

The ceremony was along conventional lines, so I’ll just summarise it. First Silvanius took up his place in the open space in front of the sanctum, between the bronze statues, and made a short speech of welcome; and yes, you’ve guessed, it did include a sentence about Romans standing together. Then he began the formal prayers invoking the blessing of the gods. He had all the prayers off by heart; he must have been rehearsing for ages, and he delivered them clearly, with just the right amount of expression. Felix had a hand there, I assumed, and had coached him well.

Then a pure white bull-calf was sacrificed on the altar, and some of the blood was caught in a bronze bowl. The augur examined the entrails and pronounced that the omens were good, which in view of later events just goes to prove what an unreliable business augury is.

There were more prayers to Jupiter and Juno, and a sort of eulogy in parenthesis in praise of the Divine Augustus—it never hurts to have the approval of the deified Emperors. For the climax of the proceedings, Silvanius moved to the entrance of the sanctuary to offer a white ram and to make the final dedication.

We, the worshippers, wouldn’t follow him there; the sanctum was for priests and gods only. So we all stood outside in respectful silence, waiting for him to make the offering and come out to tell us that the gods had accepted the dedication and the place was now up and running, I mean, truly sacred.

Silvanius had his back to the congregation as he walked to the entrance, arms raised up for another prayer. He started the ritual words, and then he froze rigid, like a statue himself. For a few heartbeats I thought he’d just forgotten his next few lines; there’s a lot to learn in these religious ceremonies, and even the best of priests get lost sometimes. If you know the rituals well, you can often spot how the experienced priests just make it up if they lose the thread. They have to keep going, because if they hesitate too long, it’s taken as a sign that the ceremony hasn’t been carried out correctly, and everybody has to start all over again. In practice this means you always allow plenty of time for these performances, and make sure there’s a spare sacrificial animal handy just in case.