Hope of Earth (48 page)

Ned shook his head. “I envy my sister her happiness.” Then he glanced significantly at Snow. “And my brother his.” Snow obligingly blushed, as the laughter continued. They all liked her very well. “But about that meeting: they know us all, and that we do get along with our Roman proprietor. They won’t trust us. It may not be safe for us to attend.”

There was a pause. Distrust could indeed be dangerous. The outrage of the Britons was great, and anyone they perceived as enemy or spy could be summarily killed.

Lin steeled herself and spoke. “I could do it,” she said, her voice tight with nervousness.

Flo shook her head. “They know you as well as any of us. You were at the flogging.”

“Yes. I met Princess Wildflower. And saw her raped. But I tried to warn her. Maybe she—she will protect me. If I go. If she’s there.”

“Even so, she will know you for a spy,” Ned said. “She has no love at all for Romans.”

“But maybe—maybe she wouldn’t want to see me hurt, any more than I wanted to see her hurt. So if I told her I just wanted to try to keep it from happening to us—” She saw the doubt in their faces, and halted.

There was a pause. Then Flo spoke. “Still, we do need a connection. If Lin is willing to take the risk—”

“A risk of death!” Bry protested.

“A risk we all may face, if Queen Boudica’s forces deem us an enemy,” Flo said.

There was another pause. Lin knew that they did not want to push her into taking such a risk. But she knew the possible consequence if she didn’t. The Celts would be no more gentle than the Romans had been, and they had a keen sense of justice. How well they all knew that, being Celts themselves!

“FU do it,” she said, more firmly than she felt.

Flo nodded. “You have courage.” That was a considerable compliment, because Flo did not make empty statements.

The meeting was in the nearby town, Camulodunum, the major settlement of the Trinovantes, where Lin was not well known. That helped. Because if she were recognized, she could be in trouble. The Romans governed the town, but a number of prominent Britons had reassured the officials that all was well, so they were not alert to the teal nature of the gathering. All known associates of the Romans were rigorously excluded, unless they had suitable credentials as true patriots of the land.

It turned out that though Boudica herself was elsewhere, her daughters would indeed attend the meeting. It seemed that these things carried more conviction if one of the victims of the Roman atrocity was present. That was what Lin needed to know. She dressed in male guise and had no trouble getting in; she was obviously a young Briton.

The hall was crowded. There was no formal program; instead there was a rising tide of emotion. Lin realized why: they did not dare speak openly of rebellion, because word would get out to the Romans, who would then ruthlessly suppress it. But they were fomenting a general emotional state that would make rebellion easier to accept when the time came.

An old woman cried out dire prophecies of doom and desolation. “Have we not seen the statue of Victory fall and lie face down on the ground, presenting its back in surrender,” she cried, in a thinly veiled allusion to the Romans. “Have we not seen apparitions in the Thames? Blood-red tides, washing things ashore that resemble human corpses?” She spoke metaphorically, for the Thames did not flow through Camulodunum. But they had all heard the spooky stories. It was easy to believe that there had indeed been such omens elsewhere.

“Yes! Yes!” others echoed.

Then a man started speaking in tongues, sing-songing unintelligible words. Others hummed, and keened, and the level of sound rose. Lin felt herself being tugged by the feeling of it, but fought it, because she was here for another purpose. Her sympathies were with the Britons of course, but before she could yield to them she had to accomplish her mission.

She moved among the people, searching for the princess. Apparently the girl was taking no active part in the event, merely lending it authenticity by her presence.

Lin spied her, standing between two stout men. She approached diffidently. “Princess—” she began.

One of the men reached out and caught her arm. “What’s this? A spy?”

“No!” Lin cried. “I’m a friend of Princess Wildflower! I tried to save her! I gave her a necklace!” She tore off her close cap and let her hair fall free.

Now the princess’s eyes widened with recognition. “You were the one! You warned me, but I did not listen.” She glanced at the guard, and he immediately let Lin go. “But why do you come to me now? Is there a spy here to kill me?”

“No,” Lin said quickly. “None that I know of. It is for myself I come. I must beg a favor of you, Princess.”

“You come to one who was ravished and demeaned and made powerless, for a favor?”

“Oh, Princess, you know I serve a Roman master. All other Romans deserve destruction, but this one has been good to us. Please, please, spare him.”

“What authority do you think I have, that I can help a Roman?”

“If your mother tells them to bypass his estate, which is our estate—”

Wildflower pursed her lips. “It is hard for me to speak favor of any Roman.”

“I know. I—I saw what they did to you. I don’t want it to happen to me. But it was our Roman who bid me warn you of the danger.”

The princess’s mouth fell slightly open.
“He
bid you?”

“He said the procurator was out to make an example. He said he, as a Roman, could not speak against it, but if someone else did—”

“So you came to me,” Wildflower agreed, nodding. “I dismissed your warning, and paid a hideous price. It was a folly I will never forget. Very well: this time I will heed your words. I will speak to my mother. But tell your Roman to stay on his land, because if he ventures from it, there will be no recourse.”

“I will! I will! Oh, thank you, Princess! Thank you!” Lin dropped to her knees and kissed Wildflower’s hand.

“Don’t thank me,” Wildflower said, embarrassed. “My mother may not listen.” Then she drew her hand away. “What is his name?”

“Centurion Ittai.”

“I will see. But I don’t know. Mother is extremely angry.”

But Lin was satisfied. She had obtained the commitment she had come for.

The revolt came suddenly, while Governor Suetonius Paulinus was campaigning in Wales, conquering the Druid stronghold at Mona. Most of the Roman forces were with him in the west, leaving almost nothing to counter the uprising in the east. The Roman forces were caught wildly unprepared. The family received news from the Britons who rushed to join the fray, and Romans who were dismayed by it.

Centurion Ittai had sent word to the authorities in Ca-mulodunum to expect trouble, and to shore up the Roman defenses, but he had been ignored, as expected. Now the Romans were desperate. They sent to Londinium for reinforcements, but Procurator Catus sent only 200 men.

Meanwhile Queen Boudica’s army marched on the city, numbering perhaps a hundred thousand men. The town was without fortifications, and had few strong points. The Britons quickly captured it and burned it. The defenders made a final stand in the Temple of Claudius, holding out for two days before the building was stormed. They were slaughtered.

As soon as the sacking was finished, Boudica’s army prepared to move southwest toward Londinium. But first it moved northwest. It bypassed the region where Lin’s family lived, and Lin knew that Princess Wildflower’s intercession was responsible. Instead it went to meet a force of five thousand Romans from Lindum, all that they could muster on short notice. The Britons ambushed the column along the margin of the fens. The Roman infantry was cut to pieces. Only the cavalry managed to return to Lindum. Thus the only force in eastern Britain capable of meeting Boudica in the field had been decimated.

Then the action got more immediate. Centurion Ittai received orders from Governor Suetonius: he was being reactivated, and had to join Suetonius in Londinium forthwith. ‘“I was afraid of this,” Ittai said ruefully. “That idiot Catus set off an uprising that is a major embarrassment to Rome, and now I must participate. I am a naval officer, not a commander of land forces, but when Rome is in peril, all must serve as they are able. I will deed the estate to my wife, in the event. I do not return.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Jes protested. “I’m not sending you out alone to die! I’m going with you.”

“But women are not allowed in combat.”

“But officers have young male squires.”

He looked at her. “I will die in the service of Rome if that is required of me, but I do not want my wife put at unnecessary risk. You are young, and—”

“You are part of my family now,” Jes said. “You have saved our estate; we look after you too. Someone must go with you, and it ought to be me.”

“But—”

“Suppose you are killed in battle, and we get no word? We would not know what to do. One of us must be with you.”

It was clear that Ittai did not want Jes along, and not because he did not love her. He wanted her well away from danger. “There is merit in what you say,” he said slowly. “But have you considered this: If you are with me, you are at increased risk of dying too. If we both die, the estate will be lost, because I can deed it only to my wife, not a native. Rome recognizes such rights only for its citizens. Then your whole family will suffer. Have you the right to put your brothers and sisters at such unnecessary risk?”

Jes froze. He had scored. This was the one time she should not be with him. The others were nodding agreement.

“Another family member can accompany me,” Ittai said, following up his advantage. “One who can be spared, no offense to any of you. Perhaps Bry.”

“He is working on the wall with Sam,” Flo said. “In these troubled times, we need that wall finished soon.”

“I’ll do it,” Lin said.

Both Ittai and Jes frowned. “A girl in battle conditions—” Ittai started.

“Untrained in weapons—” Jes continued.

“A boy. A squire,” Lin said quickly. “And I know the princess.”

“What has that to do with it?” Ittai demanded.

“I got her to have her mother bypass this region,” Lin said. “If you get wounded, maybe I can get her to get her mother to spare you.” It was far-fetched, but all she could think of at the moment.

But Jes accepted it. “That just might work. Anything that promotes my husband’s likely survival—”

“I don’t want to share close quarters with my wife’s little sister,” Ittai said. “The propriety—”

“She’s a child,” Flo said. “There is no—”

“She’s a lovely nascent young woman.”

That caught Lin by surprise. She blushed.

“She is that,” Ned said.

The others looked to Jes. She considered for a moment, then decided. “I trust my husband, and my sister. Go.”

But now Lin wasn’t sure. “I never—”

Ittai lifted his hands in surrender. “We have no time for such debate. Perhaps I spoke inappropriately. Pass as a boy, Lin, and I will treat you as one.”

“And don’t let him be seduced by any camp followers,” Jes said with a rueful smile. ”

Now Ittai was embarrassed. “I never—”

Then they all laughed. It was decided.

They rode out next morning, on good horses. Lin was garbed as a squire, and Ittai referred to her as male from the outset, so as never to slip and give her away. Londinium was a day’s easy ride distant, so they did not have to hurry, but they did have to keep moving.

“We must establish some rules of association,” Ittai said as they paused to eat and to water the horses. “I must keep you close, which means we must share quarters, but I prefer that there be no embarrassment to either of us.”

“Treat me with the unconscious contempt due a young servant,” she said. “It’s the only safe way.”

“In public, yes. I’m glad you understand. But in private—“

“The same. The land has ears.”

“And if there is violence, warn me and get clear. You will guard my possessions and carry messages, and otherwise be invisible.”

“Yes, sir.” She knew this mission was dangerous, but she was rather enjoying it. Had it been like this when Jes first met him?

“And keep your gloves on. By my order, if anyone asks.”

“Yes, sir.” This went beyond possible embarrassment. If any stranger saw her sixth finger, in this troubled time, it might be taken as an omen of evil, leading to instant mayhem.

They reached Londinium in the evening. It was a huge city, bigger than anything she, had seen before; it just spread out and out. It was also a worried city, because the people knew that Boudica’s terrible army was on its way. Would the Romans be able to defend it?

They rode to the garrison headquarters. It was in near panic. Ittai identified himself to the harried magistrate there. “Where is Procurator Catus Decianus?” Ittai demanded. “I must report to him.”

“Sir, he departed this morning for the continent, with his staff, family, and belongings.”

Ittai swore a mighty oath. “So the rat deserts the ship, his own folly holed!”

“If you say so, sir,” the magistrate said, trying to suppress a bitter smile. He could not speak thus of his superior, but he could appreciate it when a higher officer did.