In the Shadow of the Wall (55 page)

The strange procession attracted a lot of stares as they made their way round the edge of the city to a large, two-storey Rman house, elegantly decorated with murals and roofed with red tiles. This, Lucius announced, was the city home of Caralugnus, one of the leading citizens of Eboracum. Caralugnus turned out to be a middle-aged British nobleman who had wholeheartedly adopted Roman customs. In true Roman fashion he was busy in one of his public rooms, conducting business with some of his clients, but he quickly excused himself from them, hurrying to meet Lucius and his unusual companions. When Lucius mentioned Geta’s name, Caralugnus clapped his hands to summon some servants. He ordered two rooms to be set aside on the upper floor of his home for Brude and the others. “You may stay as long as you need,” he assured them. “Any friends of Geta Caesar are welcome in my home.” He spoke to them in his native Brigante tongue, which they understood far better than Latin. Mairead thanked him profusely.

Brude carried Castatin up the stairs and laid him in a bed. He checked him over, heard the laboured breathing and felt the fever burning inside the boy. He turned to one of the servants. “I need a bowl of lukewarm water and some cloth, please.” The servant scurried off while Mairead helped him undress Castatin. “We need to cool him down. And I need some medicine for him. When the water comes, you wash him all over. Try to get his body cool. I’ll see if Lucius can get me into the legion’s medical store.”

Lucius was only too happy to oblige. Brude was back inside an hour, able to mix a drink for Castatin, using some medicine requisitioned from the legion’s medical supplies. Mairead had got the boy’s temperature down slightly but his head was still hot and he was breathing with difficulty. Brude gently lifted his head to put the beaker to his lips, talking to him, telling him to drink. He managed to get some liquid into Castatin’s mouth. The boy swallowed, coughed, then took some more. His eyes flickered open and he saw Brude. “I knew you’d come,” he said softly.

Castatin hovered in a fever for three days while Brude and Mairead took turns to watch him. When the fever broke, he was still weak and had trouble breathing. Brude was concerned because the chill had obviously got into Castatin’s lungs. In
Germania
, he had seen men die when that happened. But at least the boy’s fever was gone. He could only hope that time and rest would heal him completely.

Caralugnus was a concerned host and when Brude apologised for taking up room in his house, the old man brushed off his concerns. “Stay as long as you like,” he insisted. “I have no family here and the place is too big for me anyway.” He seemed anxious to please. Brude learned from Cleon that Lucius had told Caralugnus that Brude was an important Caledonian chieftain, an ally of
Rome
, and a friend of the emperor. That explained Caralugnus’ generosity, Brude thought. He was tempted to tell Caralugnus the truth but Castatin would recover faster here than at
Niger
’s rooms so he played the part of a dispossessed noble for the boy’s sake.

He and Fothair had fetched their few belongings from
Niger
’s rooms, telling the surly landlord to keep the balance of the money he had been paid already. Brude was glad to be away from
Niger
’s place. He had shared out their money because he did not want to leave it in the lodgings while they were all out, and it was too risky to have one person carry all their wealth. Caralugnus’ home was far safer.

He went to see Lucius again, handing him a bag of coins. “Your share of the profits, as promised,” Brude told him.

Lucius smiled. “The money was intended as a gift, Marcus.”

“I know. Take it anyway.”

“My father always said you were an honourable man,” Lucius said.

They settled in to their new home quickly. Barabal, washed and dressed in new clothes, with her hair brushed and combed, seemed to have recovered from their ordeal but she remained quiet and slightly withdrawn. Mairead told Brude the girl had been raped. She was still having nightmares about it, and about Seasaidh’s murder. Barabal always hid in one of the rooms whenever Lucius came to see them; she saw any soldier as a threat to her. Brude was not sure what they could do but he and Mairead did their best to include her in their conversations, trying to reassure her that she was among friends.

Lucius was too busy to visit very often but Cleon made a point of coming to see them at least once a day, claiming that Lucius had no real need of him anyway. “There are more than enough secretaries and clerks in the fortress already for me to make much difference,” he told Brude one evening as they sat under the shelter of the colonnade surrounding Caralugnus’ peristyle garden, watching the rain splatter down.

“I can’t believe you came here in the first place,” said Brude. “I never thought you’d leave
Rome
.”

Cleon looked around to check they were alone. Then he leaned close, switching to Greek as he said, “Things were not the same after old
Aquila
died.”

“I can imagine. He was a decent man,” Brude replied, his brain struggling to switch to Greek after so many months of not hearing or speaking the language.

“Indeed he was,” Cleon agreed. “Bt he had a blind spot when it came to his wife.” He paused, staring out over the garden, not looking at Brude. “Vipsania told me why you left.”

Brude felt his face begin to redden. Cleon looked at him and gave a short bark of a laugh. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone. Lucius would never believe me, even if I did tell him. And before you ask, I have no intentions of saying anything to your lovely new wife.”

“She’s guessed already that there was a woman involved,” Brude admitted. “I am not proud of it, but it was difficult to say no to Agrippina.”

“I can imagine,” Cleon nodded. “I always thought she was a devious woman. She soon got her claws into Lucius when she discovered that
Aquila
had left nearly everything to him. She realised she could only keep the wealth through marrying Lucius. The poor boy didn’t stand a chance once she turned her charms on him. It’s caused a bit of a scandal in
Rome
, but she is only his step-mother and not much older than he is.”

“And he’s not so much of a boy now,” observed Brude dryly.

“No indeed. He is turning into a most ambitious young man. Not the quiet child I once knew at all. His father’s dreams and his new wife’s urgings are pushing him into exalted circles. He aspires to the senate and I dare say he will get there. He sold all his father’s business interests and invested in land, to make himself eligible. With no business to run, I had very little to do.”

“So you decided to come to Britannia?” Brude could not hide his amusement.

“It was either that or stay in
Rome
, watching that conniving bitch try to scale the social ladder by climbing into other men’s beds.” Cleon shook his head. “I had no wish for that. And I suppose I did half hope to find you. Britannia looked such a small place on the maps. I had no idea it was so large.”

Brude laughed. “You know damn well how large it is. It was you who showed me the maps.”

Cleon chuckled. “Well, it worked anyway. Here you are. Perhaps the gods do listen, after all.”

“I missed you too,” Brude told him. “I am glad you came here. It is good to see you again.”

“You have a family now awell,” Cleon said.

“But probably no home to go back to.”

“The war will not last. Another year and the whole island will be part of the empire. Then you can go home. Perhaps I might even come with you to see these houses of mud and sticks that you think are so wonderful.”

The mention of the war made Brude sombre again. “There were hardly any houses left in my village when we left. The Romans destroyed most of them.”

Cleon patted his knee. “I understand your concern, Marcus, but there is nothing you can do about it at the moment. You need to get your son well first. Then we shall discuss what is to be done next. One thing at a time.”

Brude nodded. As usual, Cleon was right.

Castatin was up and about after two weeks but he was very weak. He coughed whenever he tried to exert himself. Brude sought advice from the Roman doctors at the legionary fort but they could not suggest anything more than rest, warmth and the herbs Brude already had. Castatin wanted to know what had happened at Broch Tava so Mairead took him aside to explain the truth about who his father really was. It was a difficult conversation and Castatin was quiet for a while afterwards before he came to Brude and said, “My mother tells me that you are my real father.”

Brude, sitting in the peristyle garden enjoying a rare bout of sunshine between rain showers, patted the wall beside him, telling Castatin to sit. “I only found out a few months ago myself. It’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because your father, I mean Colm, was my friend once and because your mother wanted it kept quiet. It would only have caused trouble. Anyway, I hadn’t exactly been around for you when you were growing up.”

“I’m glad he’s dead,” Castatin said with feeling. “He used to beat me, and my mother.”

“I can understand your feelings,” said Brude. “But he was not all bad. He did a lot of good things for the village. His problem was that he never learned to be content with what he had. He always wanted more.”

“I hated him. I am glad you are my father.”

“I am glad, too, Castatin. Now we have to learn how to be a family. It probably won’t be easy for either of us. But as for hatred, try to keep that out of your heart. It does as much harm to you as to the person you hate. Perhaps it would be better for you simply to be glad that Colm is gone, not that he is dead. You would have been just as happy if he had gone off to be king of
Parthia
. It’s his absence you are pleased about, not his death.”

Castatin considered that for a moment, then asked, “Where is
Parthia
?”

Brude laughed. The boy was just like he had been at that age, always asking questions. “It’s a long way from here. Ask Cleon to show you a map some time. Come on, Caralugnus has invited us all to dine with him this evening. In the meantime, I think a visit to the baths would be good for you. The hot steam might help you. If not, at least you’ll be clean for meeting our host.”

The baths were still what Brude missed most about life in
Rome
. The bathhouse in Eboracum was small and always busy. In true Pritani style, the locals did not bother too much with separate bathing times for men and women. The bathhouse had some times set aside for only men, and some for only women but, for most of the day, everyone mingled together, although Brude noticed that there were none of the sexual overtones Agrippina had introduced him to at the House of Venus. Not that it stopped Fothair arranging a few assignations. His height and lean, muscled body attracted a lot of attention, making him very popular with the young women.

Over their evening meal, dining from silver plates and goblets, Caralugnus regaled them with the benefits of Roman civilisation. “My grandfather insisted on living in a draughty wooden hut on a hilltop,” he told them. “Our people scraped a living from the land, surviving on a diet which was bland, to say the least. And they were constantly fighting with neighbouring tribes. My father moved here when he decided to try the Roman way of life. I have to say that I am glad he did. I really couldn’t imagine going back to the way our people used to live. We have the markets, we have the baths, we have roads and we have security.”

Brude could see that Mairead and Fothair were both nodding in agreement. They were already starting to appreciate the comfort of life under Roman rule. Castatin had enjoyed the luxury of the baths as well. Only Barabal looked unconvinced.

“Brude and I built a house,” said Fothair with his habitual grin. “No draughts at all. It even had its own well. The Romans burned it down, though. Just as well we never did build that bathhouse you were after. Imagine all that effort just for a wash, then the Romans coming along to burn it down.”