Buried Too Deep (19 page)

“I’m sorry to hear she’s unwell,” Albia said. “She was in radiantly good health when I saw her last month. It’s nothing serious, I hope?”

“I hope not too. One of these mysterious women’s complaints, which is making her very tired. Seeing new faces will cheer her up.”

We followed him into a large, light room, overlooking the front portion of the enclosure, with the two earth banks in the foreground, and beyond them a slope of ground and a distant glimpse of the sea. The room was set out as a kind of audience chamber, and the furniture was well-made, with rich inlays and good carvings. Bodvocus sat in a huge throne-like chair with elaborate back and arms, and a cushioned foot-rest. It was impressive, though it didn’t look particularly comfortable. There were several more chairs, a couple of small tables with inlaid tops, and a polished desk in one corner where a thin elderly secretary sat writing. Bodvocus was keeping him busy, to judge from the pile of papers and note-tablets in front of him.

Bodvocus didn’t get up as we entered. Coriu introduced us both, and he said, “Welcome, ladies,” and gave us a rather condescending smile. “It’s good of you to visit us. You’ll take some wine?” His Latin was fluent, with a native lilt to it.

We all sat down, and a manservant came in and placed a tray on one of the small tables. He poured out wine, and handed round plates with nuts and small slivers of cheese, and some odd-looking brown cakes. The wine was a good Italian white, and the jug, beakers, and plates were of pewter.

There was a longish pause while we all sipped and chewed and wondered what to say. I took the chance to study the Chief. I meet plenty of natives, but apart from Clarus, I’d never met one with this much clout. He was older than I’d expected, perhaps fifty-five, with a lined face and a small neat grey beard. His hair and eyebrows were grey too, but the blue eyes beneath them were sharp. He wore a finely-woven wool tunic, and he had a thick gold collar round his neck and a couple of gold bracelets on his right arm. So if he was a Roman citizen—and I assumed he must be, if he was acting for the government—he preferred not to flaunt the fact by wearing a toga.

The silence lengthened. The Chief must be waiting for one of us to explain why we were calling on him. Quintus had said it was against the custom for a woman to pay him a visit by herself. Even with Albia there, and armed with my messages from his relatives, the Chief’s welcome was only what basic politeness demanded. I could make a conversational opening, but Albia had warned me to leave the talking to her.

“It’s good of you to receive us, Lord Bodvocus,” Albia said. “My sister has been so looking forward to meeting you, having heard about you from your relatives in Oak Bridges.”

“Indeed?” He relaxed a little.

I said. “I hope you won’t think it’s impertinent when I say I know you already by reputation. Chief Councillor Silvanius has talked about you often.”

A small smile twitched his mouth. “What has he said?”

That was a tricky one. I could hardly tell him Silvanius wanted to know whether he was allowing his men to harass Romans. “He mentioned visiting you at Beltane last year,” I improvised. “He and Clarilla enjoyed that enormously. And he’s always saying what a peaceful district this is, and how he admires the way you govern your people.” I picked up one of the scrolls I’d brought with me, and crossed the room to hand it to the Chief, who accepted it with a nod. “Here’s the letter he asked me to bring, and he said I was to convey his and Clarilla’s greetings and good wishes.”

“Thank you.” He opened the scroll carefully and read through it. His expression softened a little more, and he looked at me with growing interest. “My kinsman writes a pretty letter.”

“He’s always had a way with words,” I answered.

“He says that you are among his most valued friends, and he sometimes even seeks your advice in his dealings with the authorities, because your brother is on the Governor’s staff. You take an interest in public affairs, do you?” It was half question and half accusation.

“I’m afraid I do, though people tell me it’s not really a woman’s sphere. But I’m my father’s daughter, and he was a retired centurion, always fascinated by politics and government. He taught us that every citizen, man or woman, must be aware how the Empire is ruled. Didn’t he, Albia?”

She nodded. “I believe you knew father, Lord Bodvocus, when he first established the Oak Tree mansio.”

That broke the ice, and the Chief smiled at her. “I did. A fine man, and a brave soldier in his youth, they say. How long is it, since he set up the mansio? It must be almost twenty years ago.”

They continued to exchange compliments and memories for a while, until Albia steered the conversation back to the present.

“And now our brother Lucius is on an assignment here. He came to see you the other day, I believe.”

“He asks for my help against these accursed Gauls. Of course I’ve told him I’ll do what I can. But if they were easy to apprehend, we’d already have caught them, wouldn’t we, Coriu?”

“We certainly would. Aurelius has a squad of soldiers camped on the Headland, but I don’t think they’re having any luck tracking the raiders down.”

“Our father used to say that local criminals can always out-manoeuvre soldiers,” I put in. “They know the terrain so much better.”

The two men nodded their approval at this statement of the obvious.

“I hope the raiders are caught soon,” Albia continued. “Perhaps you heard our farm was attacked, and one of our servants killed. It was horribly frightening. We’re building a stockade now.”

“You’re wise,” the old man said. “But have you enough men to guard it?”

“Chief Councillor Silvanius has sent us half-a-dozen guards to help give us some protection. This has always been such a peaceful, safe part of the world, and I hate the feeling of being under siege. I shan’t be truly at ease until the raiders are caught.”

“I heard about the attack,” the Chief said. “I’m sorry it happened. You and your husband have always been good friends and neighbours to everyone. I wish I could say that all those who’ve come to settle in this area show as much consideration.”

Albia neatly took her chance to move to the topic we wanted. “You’re thinking of the Ostorii, perhaps?”

Bodvocus looked at her keenly. “You’ve heard what they’re doing? I appreciate that you’ll feel sympathy for fellow Romans, but surely you can’t approve of the way they’re behaving?”

“So far,” Albia said carefully, “I’ve heard only vague rumours of trouble between them and some of your people. They say they want to live peacefully with all their neighbours.”

Coriu gave a scornful snort. “They’ve a funny idea of living peacefully. Plaguing our farmers, moving boundary markers, breaking down our hedges and fences so that animals wander, or sometimes disappear altogether. And if you ask me, they’re working hand in hand with Voltacos’ men.”

“Of course I wouldn’t approve of any such thing,” Albia answered. “Romans or not, that’s no way to behave. Have you evidence of what they’re up to?”

The men shook their heads. “Not evidence that would stand up in one of your Roman courts,” Bodvocus admitted.

“I think the old uncle, Magnus, is greedy,” she went on, “and I can well believe he’s antagonising people by his efforts to get more land. He says he wants to build up a huge estate for his three nephews. But joining forces with a band of rogues…with respect, that doesn’t seem very likely to me.”

“Why not?” the Chief retorted. “What better way for him to get more land than to frighten a few farmers into selling him their homes?”

“And you’ve got to admit it’s our own Parisi people who are being harassed,” Coriu put in.

“Not exclusively,” Albia said softly.

“I’m sorry, Albia,” Bodvocus said. “Coriu was mistaken. You have suffered along with our people. Perhaps that’s because you and Candidus have always been on good terms with the Parisi people. What you’re doing now for Esico and his family…we know about it, and we appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” Albia said. She paused. “May I ask your help with something, Lord Bodvocus?”

“Certainly, if it’s in my power.”

“This—this trouble between you and the Ostorii. It’s disturbing, and it’s also taking time and resources away from fighting the Gauls. It seems such a waste to me.”

He nodded. “To me too.”

“Then is there no way you could make this quarrel stop?”

“We’re not the ones…” Coriu began, but Bodvocus waved him quiet.

“What have you in mind, Albia?”

“Couldn’t you get them to declare publicly that they’ll settle any outstanding disputes with you and your household, and then live at peace with you?”

Coriu said, “We’re not the ones disturbing the peace. They must surrender to us.”

“But I’m not asking you to surrender anything to anyone,” Albia said quickly. “Not at all. I’m just suggesting that you take the lead in bringing about peace. That you and the Ostorii should set aside any differences you may have, and work together to destroy Voltacos and his men.
They’re
the men who are disrupting the peace, and I believe they’re encouraging rivalry between your people and the settlers, so they can carry on their criminal activities with less risk.”

“You’ve met Ostorius Magnus, presumably?” Bodvocus asked her.

“I have, yes, and so has my sister.”

She glanced at me, like an actor giving a cue, and I took it. “I met him at our mansio when he came to buy some horses from us. We had quite a long chat, and he expressed himself as extremely worried about the Gauls, and the way this peaceful district has been suffering at their hands. From what he said, I think he’d jump at the chance to make it clear to everyone that he’ll co-operate with you in destroying the pirates.”

“He’s bluffing, surely,” Coriu put in. “Trying to disguise the fact that he’s prepared to use the raiders for his own ends.”

“But do we know that for sure?” I looked at him, and then at the Chief, and neither of them answered. “And even supposing he is in some sort of alliance with them, he’s hardly in a position to admit it. He’ll accept a proposal for peace, and if it’s made before all the people—say at your Beltane feast—you’ll be able to ask for his help against the raiders, and he’ll have to promise to give it whether he likes it or not.”

“But he won’t keep the promise,” Coriu growled.

“If he’s innocent of conspiring with the raiders,” I said, “he’ll keep it. If he isn’t, he may not keep it for ever, but he’ll have to do so for a while or be publicly dishonoured. And consider this: if it’s true he has been making use of the Gauls now and then, surely your best hope of putting him in his place is to destroy the Gauls as soon as possible. Then he can’t.”

Bodvocus smiled at me. “I think my kinsman Silvanius may be right when he says you offer good advice.”

“I wouldn’t presume to advise, Lord Bodvocus. But I’m worried for my sister and her family. I’d do anything I could, in however small a way, to help reduce the risk to them, and to other farmers.”

“And you really think that if I ask him, Ostorius Magnus will agree to come to our feast at Beltane and publicly promise peace between his people and mine?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Bodvocus sat still for a long time, considering. “Very well. Like you, I want peace, and I’m prepared to try to negotiate with him. I’ve already issued a general invitation to all our neighbours to come and celebrate with us. I’ll send Ostorius a personal invitation today, and we’ll know by his answer whether your assessment of him is correct.”

Coriu gave me a look that would have curdled milk. “My lord, I want peace too, we all do. But not at the price of…”

“Yes, Coriu, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll write a note straight away, and you’ll send one of your men to deliver it, please. And now,” he turned back to me, “I believe you have a letter for my daughter from Clarus’ sister?”

“Yes indeed. Would it be possible for me to see your daughter while I’m here? I bring her greetings and messages as well as the letter.”

Bodvocus inclined his head. ”I’m sure she’d be glad to see you. She’s a little indisposed this afternoon, but I’ll send someone to enquire.” He rang a small bronze hand-bell, and instructed the young page boy who appeared to find out whether Elli was receiving visitors. “Tell her that Albia and her sister Aurelia Marcella are here, with a message from her aunt Clarilla.”

I said, “I hope Elli’s indisposition is nothing serious?”

“Just some woman’s complaint, I gather. Her mother’s been nursing her, but she continues to stay in her room. Our wise woman here, who deals with our sick and wounded people, seems to be at a loss. Ah, here’s the boy. Well?”

“Lady Elli will be delighted to receive Aurelia Marcella and Albia,” the boy said. “Please to come this way with me.”

Elli’s room didn’t lead directly out of the main hall, but was one of those off the side corridor, and it looked south, so the first thing that struck us as we entered was a flood of bright sunlight. A middle-aged woman with a careworn expression rose to greet us. “Albia, how good to see you. And this is Aurelia Marcella? Please come in. I’m Elli’s mother.”

We stepped in, and saw Elli lying full-length on a highly ornamented couch with wooden carvings on its back and arms. Her head was propped on a couple of cushions, her knees were drawn up, and one hand rested on her stomach, which was quite distended. A young maid sat beside the couch, gently bathing Elli’s face with a cloth, but she stopped and left the room as we entered.

I could see at once that Elli would be strikingly beautiful when she was well. But now her skin was greyish and there were lines of pain across her forehead, and her blue-grey eyes had no sparkle, only a tired, blank expression. Her pale gold hair was long by Roman standards, but it hung limp and unkempt.

Her mother said, “I’m sure you girls will have plenty to talk about, so I’ll leave you to chat for a while. Call out if you need me.” She left the room and closed the door firmly behind her.

Chapter XVIII

“Forgive me for not getting up to greet you.” Elli spoke good Latin with hardly a trace of an accent. “I’m not feeling my best at present. But I didn’t want to miss the chance of seeing you, Albia, and meeting your sister. Any friend of Aunt Clarilla is very welcome.”

I took the seat by the couch. “We’re sorry to find you unwell. Clarilla will be too. She was worried about you, and I promised to let her know how things are with you. I hope whatever ails you is nothing too serious?”

“Not serious in itself, no. But for me, it couldn’t be more serious.” She hesitated, and there was an odd look in her eyes, of fear, almost panic. I thought, here’s someone exercising an iron control over herself. Was she in severe pain, or was there some other unhappiness that she was trying to suppress?

I took her hand. “What’s the trouble? Is there anything Albia or I can do to help?”

“I doubt that, thank you. I…well, I don’t think anyone can help me.”

“Tell us what’s wrong,” Albia said, pulling up a chair at the other end of the couch. “I’ve quite a store of herbs that help the aches and pains we women have to suffer. Is it your time of the month?”

“No, Albia, it’s not that. I’m grateful that you should try to help, but…Aurelia, Mother said you’ve brought a letter for me from Aunt Clarilla. May I see it? She’s such a sweet person, her letters always cheer me up.”

I produced Clarilla’s scroll. She untied it and read it slowly. Suddenly her face crumpled and she began to cry. I sat quietly holding her hand till she had herself more or less under control.

“Clarilla says you’ll be a friend,” she murmured, so softly we had to lean close to hear her. “And I know Albia is my friend too. Gods, I need friends now. Can I trust you both to keep a secret?”

“Yes. I promise.” We both answered together.

“I’m not really ill, that’s just an excuse to let me stay out of Father’s way. I’m with child.”

I stared. “
With child!
Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. And I expect it to be born any time.”

It was hard to believe. Her stomach was a little swollen, but not exceptionally so, and her breasts weren’t very big. She must be one of those girls who can carry a baby inside them for nine months without a change in shape that a generously-cut tunic wouldn’t disguise.

Albia voiced my thoughts. “You don’t look as if you’re about to give birth. I was as big as a house when I was carrying the twins. And you’ve managed to keep it a secret from everyone?”

“Mother knows, and my maid. Otherwise nobody.”

“Your father?” I asked.

“My father would kill me if he found out.”

“Even though you’re betrothed? Surely if you married Coriu now…”

“It isn’t Coriu’s child.”

So the punishment would be brutal indeed. Bodvocus would consider she’d disgraced him, and Coriu would feel the same. Brides of the Parisi tribe have their marriages arranged for them by their families, and they’re expected to be virgins.

“I haven’t even told Aquilo. I wanted to, but I couldn’t find the right words at the right time. I’ve enough trouble just seeing him now and then.”

“Aquilo?
Ostorius
Aquilo?” Albia exclaimed.

“Yes. We’re in love, and we want to be married.”

So Clarilla had been right. “Your aunt realised you were in trouble. She suspected you were involved with someone…” I searched for a better word than “unsuitable,” Clarilla’s description, “…someone your father would disapprove of.”

“Involved?” She laughed. “That’s such a horrible word. In love, that’s what we are. And neither Father nor Magnus can stop us loving one another. They can stop us marrying, especially Aquilo’s uncle, because of the Roman laws about having to have consent from the head of the family, which Magnus would never give us. But once the baby’s born, we hope both of them will realise they’ve got to make the best of it. And if they don’t, we’ll run away together.”

Albia said, “And it’s really due any time now?”

“Today, tomorrow, I’m not sure precisely, but it won’t be long.”

Albia got up and stood over her, and very gently put her hands on Elli’s stomach. She nodded slowly as she took her hands away again. “I can feel it moving. I’d say it’s wanting to be born.”

“And neither your father nor Coriu have any idea you are carrying a child?” I asked.

Elli spread her hands. “Why should they? They don’t expect me to…and they’re men, it’s not hard to put them off the scent. Tell them you have a ‘woman’s complaint’, hint about bleeding and attacks of nausea…they’d rather not know the details. As for Coriu, I haven’t seen much of him these past few months in any case. In fact he’s been very aloof lately, not just to me but to everyone. I shouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him. Perhaps he’ll accept it when I tell him I can’t go through with it.”

I refrained from saying this was as clear a case of wishful thinking as one would care to meet. Coriu would never willingly accept such a thing. Whatever his feelings for Elli, he must want the marriage very much, because it singled him out as Bodvocus’ heir, second in power and prestige to the Chief. But there was no point saying any of that. “Ideally, we need to get you away from here, Elli, to have the baby in peace and not be worrying all the time about being discovered. Would you be prepared to move out to somewhere else, if we can arrange it?”

“Prepared? Oh, it’s what I’ve been hoping and praying for. But where? I wondered about going to Aunt Clarilla, but it’s a long way to travel, and anyway she says her brother Clarus has told her not to interfere in my family’s business, so I might not be welcome.” She smiled suddenly. “But she’s brought you to me, Aurelia. It’s lucky for me that she doesn’t always do what she’s told.”

“Neither does your mother, it seems. She’s been protecting you and your secret.”

She sighed. “Mother’s been wonderful. But she’s frightened of Father, he can be a bad-tempered bully at times. If he finds out—I suppose I mean
when
he finds out—I don’t think she’ll be very good at standing up to him. Aquilo and I will be on our own. That’s why we may have to go away from here.”

“If we could get you over to our farm,” Albia suggested, “you can have your baby there. I know you’d miss your mother’s help, but I’d look after you.”

“Oh, Albia, if I only could. But I couldn’t impose on you. You’ve got your own children, and you’re expecting another, aren’t you? It’s a wonderful idea, but I can’t.”

“Of course you can. Take it as definite that I’d like you to come to me. Is it what you’d like too?”

Her face lighted up with sudden hope. “More than anything.”

“Then no more argument,” my sister said. “We’ll take you home with us now.”

“But Father will never allow me to leave here without a good reason. And what reason could I give?”

“Would he let you come to Albia’s,” I wondered, “if our Greek doctor Timaeus was there? He’s a first-class man, and we could tell Bodvocus that he might be able to find the cause of your mysterious illness.”

“A Greek doctor? The man who set Coriu’s broken arm? Is he staying with you, Albia?”

My sister smiled. “No. But we can say he is. We can even send for him if you look like needing medical help. I don’t think you will. You’re young and strong, so all you need is somewhere peaceful where you and your new baby will feel safe.”

Elli sat up on the couch and swung her feet onto the floor. “I’ve been praying to the gods, and my prayers have been answered. Thank you. Thank you both! I’ll pack a few things to bring. Can my maid come with me?”

“Hold your horses,” Albia said. “Don’t do anything till we’ve persuaded your father. That may take a little time.”

First we told Elli’s mother what we planned, and she promised to help persuade Bodvocus. So she and Albia and I went back to his room, and found him deep in consultation with Coriu and Vulso. They politely broke off their discussion as we came in, but the Chief, despite courteous words of enquiry about Elli, gave the unmistakable impression that we were an annoying interruption to much more serious matters.

When we suggested that Elli needed to see Timaeus, who was at present staying at Albia’s house, Coriu nodded approvingly. “He’s a good man. Can he really help Elli, do you think?”

“Yes, we believe he can,” Albia answered. “He’s knowledgeable about women’s complaints. He’s visiting me because I’ve been having…but no, you gentlemen don’t want to know the details, I’m sure.” Her coy smile was a masterpiece, and the men all shook their heads.

“But why can’t this Timaeus be summoned here?” Bodvocus demanded. “My daughter shouldn’t have to go traipsing across country to see him if she’s unwell.”

I answered “Timaeus can’t leave my sister’s house just now, I’m afraid. Besides helping with Albia’s problems, he’s looking after Illiana, Esico’s daughter. She’s lost her baby, you know, and is quite gravely ill. So the doctor has his hands full, but if Elli’s in the same house, he can care for her too, and find out what’s wrong with her.”

Bodvocus turned to his wife. “What do you think? Would Elli do better going to this Greek fellow than staying here with you?”

She nodded, and said quietly, “She ought to see this Greek doctor. The sooner the better.”

Bodvocus shrugged. “I suppose she could visit Albia for a day or two. But she must be back here for the Beltane celebrations. She has to help prepare the Mother-gift.” He glanced at Coriu. “And I’m planning to announce her betrothal to you during the festivities. I can hardly do that if she’s not here, can I?”

“It will depend on what the doctor says,” his wife answered. “Of course she’ll be here if she’s well enough, but you won’t be able to announce it if she’s ill, will you? You haven’t seen her for a day or two, but as she is now, she can hardly stand on her legs. What with the dizziness, and being sick, and the bleeding…”

“Very well, very well. I’ll take your word for it. Are you telling me she may not be in a fit state for her part in the Mother-gift ceremony either?”

“Not unless she improves dramatically in the next two days. I think we should prepare Balca to take her place.”

“Balca?” Coriu smiled. “She’d be honoured, and she would do it well, I’m sure. If Elli really can’t manage it, I mean, of course. But we want the ritual to go smoothly, my lord, don’t we, or people may say it’s a sign of the gods’ disapproval.”

“That’s true,” Bodvocus agreed thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of that. Well then, send word to Balca that she may be needed. She’ll know what she has to do, she’s watched the ceremony every year. And, Coriu, if Elli is really ill, perhaps we should postpone the public announcement of your betrothal until she recovers. What do you think?”

“Perhaps we should. I’m not exactly fighting fit myself.” He glanced down at his right arm, still held rigid at his side.

“I think it would be better to delay the announcement for a while,” Elli’s mother suggested. “Say until midsummer?”

The Chief looked at Coriu. “Well?”

“If you wish, of course. As long as the marriage itself still takes place this year.”

“Then that’s decided.” The Chief turned to Albia. “Thank you for your kind offer, Albia. We accept, and hope your Greek fellow can find the cause of my daughter’s trouble and make her well again, by Beltane if possible. I’d like her to be with us here for the feast day, even if she’s not able to take much part in the celebration. It’s a day for families to be together, after all. But you can tell her from me that if she really is too weak and ill to prepare the Mother-gift, Balca will be on hand to do it instead.”

“Let’s hope that won’t be necessary,” Albia said. “We’ll do everything we can to get her well again, you can be sure of that.”

“Thank you. Now I must ask your pardon, but I have work to attend to. I wish you all a safe journey, and my daughter a speedy recovery.”

The Chief provided his largest raeda for Elli, who lay propped up on cushions, with her maid sitting beside her. I kept looking back at her from our carriage, wondering what I’d do if she went into labour on the journey, and we were all relieved when we reached Albia’s house.

As it happened the first person we saw was Quintus, who was standing in front of the house chatting to Candidus. I jumped down from our carriage and hurried over to him. “I’m glad you’re still here. We’ve had quite an eventful time.”

“I’ve seen Lucius already,” he explained. “I met him on the road, which saved me going all the way to the coast. He’s had a small piece of luck. His men caught one of the Gauls and made him talk. He admitted that the raiders sometimes take orders from a local landowner who pays them well for what he called ‘occasional services.’ He didn’t seem to know the name, he said their leader keeps that bit of information to himself. But he said one or two of the raiders aren’t very happy working inland, they’d rather stay near the sea and their boats. I thought I might as well wait here for you and tell you that, and also hear how you got on with Bodvocus. Who have you brought back with you?”

“The Chief’s daughter Elli.” I followed his glance to where Albia and the maid were helping her down from the raeda. “Clarilla was right about her being in trouble. She’s due to have Aquilo’s baby any day now. If her father finds out, he’ll kill her.”

“
Merda,
” was all he said, but that summed up the situation pretty well.

Candidus greeted Elli warmly, as I’d known he would. Esico and Illiana gave her a respectful but friendly welcome, and Illiana stirred herself into activity to help as Albia put Elli to bed in the biggest guest room.

“You mustn’t worry,” Albia said. “We’ll take care of you here, and the baby, when it comes.”

“Thank you. Thank you all,” Elli said. “When Aurelia came to me with my aunt’s letter, it felt as if—I don’t know, as if I’d been sentenced to death, and then reprieved. My mother and I could never have managed to keep my baby secret for long, living under the same roof. And then…” She shivered. “According to our custom, my father could put the baby to death, and me too.”

“But would he really be so harsh?” Albia asked. “His only child…surely he wouldn’t actually go through with it?”