The Forest House (33 page)

Gaius stared at him, trying to remember the Roman penalty for a Vestal who broke her vows; as he recalled, they buried them alive. He realized abruptly that nothing he could say would be taken as anything but self-defense. Indeed, he could endanger Eilan's life. Fear for her dried up the words in his throat.

Macellius rolled up the letter, sealed it, and handed it to his son. "Take this to Licinius," he instructed.

"My orderly Capellus will go with you," he added. "I have already sent word to him to pack your things."

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Within the hour, Gaius found himself on the road to Londinium with the massive figure of old Capellus at his side. All his attempts to begin a conversation were politely, but firmly rebuffed. When, almost desperate, he offered the man a bribe - he had to stop, to get word somehow to Eilan - the big man only snorted.

"No offense, sir, but your father told me you'd probably try that, and he paid me well to see you didn't go nowhere but directly to Londinium. And I works for your father and I don't want to be out of a job, see? So you relax sir, and do like the
Prefect
says. When you think it over, sir, it'll all be for the best, see?"

The journey to Londinium took the best part of six days. By the third day Gaius's natural optimism had begun to reassert itself, and he watched with increasing interest the neat villas that were springing up across the land. He could see now how untamed the West Country was still. But this ordered landscape was what the Empire was meant to be. He admired it, but he was not sure he liked it.

It was nearing dark when they passed the city gates and drew up in front of the Procurator's mansion, set between the Forum, where the treasury offices were located, and the new palace that Agricola was building, with its ornamental pools. He had been to Londinium several times as a child, and when he assumed the toga and officially became a man, but never since Agricola had become governor there.

The city had a gracious glow in the summer dusk, and a cool wind off the river dispelled the mugginess of the day. The scars of Boudicca's burning were mostly hidden now, and the Governor's building plans suggested the noble proportions of the city that would one day be. Of course it would never rival Rome, but in comparison to Deva it was a metropolis.

Gaius handed his letter to an imposing freedman at the portico and was bidden to enter and take a seat in the central courtyard. Here it was still warm, and fragrant with shrubs and flowers set round in pots.

From the fountain came a tinkle of falling water and, somewhere in the rooms beyond the courtyard the music of a young girl's laughter. After a time an old gardener came out and began to cut flowers, probably for the table, but he knew, or feigned to know, none of the languages in which Gaius addressed him. For a time Gaius wandered about, glad to stretch his legs after the long day in the saddle. Presently he took a seat on a stone bench, all the fatigue of the journey overtook him, and he fell asleep.

Somehow the sound of a girl's laughter wove itself into his dream . . .Gaius started awake, staring about him, but there was no one to be seen except a heavy-set, middle-aged man on crutches, draped in a formal toga. Gaius sprang to his feet, flushing with embarrassment.

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"Gaius Macellius Severus?"

"Yes, sir -"

"I should have known it." The old man smiled, "My name is Licinius, and your father and I have been friends most of our lives. It is a real pleasure to welcome his son. Is your father well?"

"He was when I last saw him a few days ago, sir."

"Good. Good. Well, young man, I had of course hoped he could get away to pay me a visit, but you are most heartily welcome in his stead. Given our arrangement, you can imagine that I've been eager to meet you."

Gaius had been telling himself all the way from Deva that he would not be hurried into any such ill-considered wedding, but he could not burst out into protest before the eyes of his father's old friend.

He had agreed to this because of the danger to Eilan and knew he ought to be grateful Licinius was so kindly.

"Yes, sir," he said, temporizing. "Father did say something of this . . ."

"Well, I should hope so," Licinius said gruffly. "As I say, we've had it in our minds since you were born.

By Mithras, boy, if Macellius had said nothing of this, I'd have wondered what he was using for a head these days." Despite its gruffness, this was the first wholly friendly voice Gaius had heard for a good many days, and, almost against his will, he was warmed by it. It was good to be welcomed. The Procurator took it for granted that he should be treated as a valued friend and a prospective son-in-law, and it had been a long time since Gaius had been made to feel a part of a family. He realized with a pang that the last time he had been made to feel so had been in the house of Bendeigid. Eilan, Cynric, what would become of them? Would he ever know? He had worried about this all the way to Londinium - he had to stop now.

"Well then, son," said Licinius, "You must be longing to meet your bride."

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Speak up,Gaius said to himself. But he could not bring himself to put out the light that glowed in the old man's eyes, and mumbled something noncommittal instead.
They will punish Eilan if I try to see her
again,
he reminded himself sternly. The best thing he could do for her would be to go through this ceremony as expected of him.
Or is that just an excuse to avoid a confrontation?
he wondered.

But Licinius had already beckoned to a well-dressed upper servant. "Send for the Lady Julia," he ordered.

Gaius knew that now was the time to say that he would have nothing to do with this farce of an arranged marriage - but without waiting for him to reply, the Procurator had hauled himself to his feet.

"She'll be with you in a moment. I'll leave you young people alone to get acquainted." Before Gaius could find the words to stop him, he was limping away.

Julia Licinia had been keeping house for her father since her mother's death three years earlier. An only child, from girlhood she had assumed she would be married off to whatever man her father chose. He had told her that he had arranged a marriage with the son of Macellius; at least this meant she would not be given to some unknown patrician twice her age, as had happened to more than one of her friends.

Trying to look unconcerned she plucked a ripening fig from one of the trees growing in the pots in the colonnaded atrium as her father came towards her.

He grinned broadly. "He is here now, my dear, Gaius Macellius the younger, your promised husband.

Go and see what you think; it's you, after all, who is to marry him. But I think if you do not like the look of the young man, you'd be hard to please."

Julia stared at her father. She said, "I was not expecting this so soon."

And yet it occurred to her that there was no point in delay. She was eager to have something all her own; and certainly when she had borne this young tribune legionary a son, he would value her above all things. She was already used to running a household, but she wanted children who would love her. She was determined not to fail at giving her husband a son as her own mother had done.

"Nor was I," her father said good-naturedly. "I wanted to keep my little girl a bit longer. Now I'll probably have to marry some old widow to keep house for me. But the young man's evidently got himself entangled with some native woman, and Macellius feels that marriage will settle him. And so —"

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A native girl?Julia's brows rose. She was aware that most fathers would not have spoken to a daughter so frankly, but she had always been as much a companion for Licinius as a child. "And so?"

"And so the young man's turned up on our doorstep, and it's time for you young folks to get acquainted with one another. I suppose you're eager to see him?"

"I must admit I'm curious." What sort of husband had she drawn? One escapade could be condoned, but if he was the type

who habitually went after women, she was not sure she wanted him.

"Then run along, daughter," her father said. "I must say, if
he
doesn't like
you
he too will be hard to please."

In sudden panic Julia remembered she was wearing an old
tunica
, and that she had combed her hair very sketchily.

"Like this?" she asked. Flustered, she tried to adjust the folds of her dress to hide a berry stain.

"I'm sure it's you he wants to see, not your taste in gowns," admonished her father fondly. "You look perfectly lovely. He knows that you're my daughter, and that's really what matters. Run along and see what you think of him. Don't be silly, child."

Julia knew there was no appeal. Licinius was a kind father, even indulgent, but when he had once made up his mind, she could not tease or coax him out of it.

Once more Gaius heard the soft sound of girlish laughter, and for some reason he thought of Odysseus surprised on the beach by Nausicaa and her maidens; he could only stare as the girl herself slipped out from behind one of the flowering trees and came towards him.

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A girl? A child, Gaius thought at first; for although he himself was not tall, the girl who entered barely reached his shoulder; she had a small well-shaped head with thick dark curls, loosely knotted at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were dark too, and met his fearlessly. She had evidently been eating berries, for her fine white wool tunic, and her lips, were stained pink with berry juice. His father had said she was fifteen, but she hardly looked more than twelve.

"You are Julia Licinia?"

"I am." She looked him up and down. "My father's promised me to some half-Roman barbarian, and I came here to have a look at him. Who are you?"

"I'm afraid I'm that half-Roman barbarian," he said a little stiffly.

The girl surveyed him coolly, and he felt as if he were waiting for some verdict of tremendous import; then she giggled.

"Well, you look Roman enough," she said. "I was prepared for some great blond barbarian whose sons would never look Roman born. It is true that our Governor's policy of teaching the sons of chieftains Roman arts and manners had been quite successful," she added consideringly, "but those of us with Roman blood must not forget to whom the Empire belongs. I would bear no babes whose portraits would look out of place among those of my ancestors."

Roman or Tuscani blood?Gaius wondered cynically, remembering that Licinius came from the same Etruscan country stock as his own father, and owed his rise in rank to merit, not ancestors. Those common origins were no doubt part of the bond. Gaius thought of Cynric, who was also half Roman, however unwillingly. At least he Gaius Macellius looked what he was supposed to be, and his father had spared no pains to have him accepted as such.

He said dryly, "I suppose I should be grateful that I pass your inspection."

"Oh, come," she said, "I am sure you want your sons to look like proper Romans no less than I do."

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With a sudden pang he wondered,
And what of Eilan's child'?
Would he be as fair as his mother, or show his father's breeding in his face? He made himself return Julia's droll smile. "Oh, I'm sure all our sons will be Roman and brave."

They were laughing together when Licinius returned. He peered, as if for confirmation, at Julia's rosy face, then said "That's settled, then."

Gaius blinked as his prospective father-in-law clasped his hand, feeling as if some great siege engine had run him down. But there was only Julia, small and smiling, at his side. She looked so harmless; like a child.

But she isn't,he thought. One meeting was enough to convince him.
Far from it. Harmless is the last
word I'd use for her.

"Of course," the Procurator said, "a wedding like this cannot be put together quickly. He was trying to be jocular. "People would certainly think that Julia had somehow misbehaved, being married off at a moment's notice to a stranger from nowhere. Local society and my family must have a chance to know and value you."

That was exactly the point of this wedding, Gaius thought wryly, except that he was the one who had misbehaved. But he could see that Julia would not want to be hurried into marriage with - as the Procurator had put it - a stranger from nowhere. She must be given a chance to be married as a respected member of her own community. And the delay would give him a chance to catch his breath and figure out what to do. Perhaps on closer acquaintance the girl would decide she did not like him after all, and even his father could not blame him for not marrying her then.

Licinius tapped the scroll from Macellius. "Officially, this transfers you to detached duty under my command. You may not think a young officer needs to know anything about finances, but when you come to command a Legion, you'll find your job easier if you know something about the system that keeps your men shod and fed! No doubt you'll find it easy duty after the frontier. It's not Rome, but Londinium is growing, and the women will make much of you with all the young officers on the Governor's staff gone off to the North."

He paused, and fixed Gaius with a hard stare. "It goes without saying," he added, "that there will be no improper behavior while you are here —" The Procurator went on, "You will live with Julia under this roof as if she were your sister, even though I will gradually let it be known that she has been your
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promised wife from infancy. But until after the ceremony —"

"Father," Julia protested, "do you really believe I would so disgrace both you and myself?"

Licinius's eyes softened as he looked at her. "I should hope not, girl," he growled. "I just wanted to make it clear to this young man."

"I should hope not indeed," Gaius muttered. But there was little danger; he found it hard to believe that Julia would ever be overcome by emotion. She was certainly different from Eilan, who had thought of his best interests before her own, and now was suffering the consequences.