In the Shadow of the Wall (58 page)

Brude heaved a sigh of relief. “I hoped you would understand.”

“I do. But I do not want to lose you. I am not so naïve as to think that the Romans would not take their revenge on all of us if you assassinate the emperor.”

“You must all leave and hide somewhere.”

Mairead nodded. “We need to get everyone together to make plans. They must understand what is at stake. We need to think of a plan which would allow you to do what you need to do without giving up your own life.”

Brude pursed his lips. “I can’t think of any way to do that.”

“Then we will put our heads together until we
do
think of a way.” Her determination and strength of will put new heart into him. If there was a way, they would find it together.

The next day, while Caralugnus was meeting with his clients, Mairead called Fothair, Barabal and Castatin into one of the other public rooms. She barred the window shutters and closed the door so that nobody could overhear. She had Brude explain what he had told her the previous evening about Veleda’s plot. When he was finished, Mairead told them all, “We need to know what each of you think before we do anything else.”

Barabal did not hesitate. Her pretty face was a mask of stern determination. “Kill him,” she said without hesitation. She had lost her home, her freedom, her innocence and her sister. Her answer came as no surprise to anyone.

Brude looked at Fothair. The tall warrior scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I remember Dun Nechtan and Peart. I agree with Barabal, but it will mean death for all of us if we do this.” He reached for Barabal’s hand. “I am not afraid for myself, but we have others to think of.”

Brude nodded then looked at Castatin. The boy was still two years from becoming a man but he was in this as well. Brude knew he was no fool. tatin returned his gaze and said, “If it will help save the Pritani we must try.”

“It might not make any difference,” Brude warned him. “But doing nothing will certainly mean the destruction of all the tribes.”

“Then we should do it,” Castatin declared, clearly confident that Brude could achieve anything.

“We are agreed then,” said Mairead briskly.

“Then I will do it,” Brude told them. “We have to think of a way of getting the rest of you somewhere safe, so that the Romans cannot find you.”

Fothair held up his hand. “You will surely die if you do this alone. You may be good enough to get close and fight your way past a couple of guards but you will never be able to fight your way through the whole Roman army to get away.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Brude said ruefully.

Castatin piped up, “Maybe you don’t need to fight anyone.”

“What do you mean?” asked Brude, intrigued.

“If you could find a way into the palace at night, you could kill him while he is sleeping.”

“There would still be guards,” Fothair pointed out. “You can’t just walk past them.”

“Maybe you can,” said Brude thoughtfully.

“How?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet. I have an idea, but we would need some help from inside the fortress.”

Mairead smiled for the first time since he had told her of his plan. “Cleon?”

Brude was sure he could trust Cleon not to betray them, but he still broached the subject with apprehension. What he was asking was more than anyone would ever expect to be asked. He persuaded Cleon to accompany him on a walk to the river where they stopped, out of earshot of anyone, looking down on the busy wharves from a low hill. The day was overcast with a westerly wind blowing fallen leaves around and biting at their faces. It was not the best day to choose for a walk outside the city. Cleon was no fool and knew Brude well. “What is this all about?” he asked. “Something is bothering you.”

“You’d better sit down,” Brude told him, indicating a large rock sunk into the hillside. When Cleon had dutifully sat down, Brude told him about Veleda and what she had told him to do.

Cleon listened in silence. He tried to appear composed but when Brude told him what he intended, his face grew pale. “You cannot be serious!” he gasped.

“I wish I was not, but I am. The fate of my people is at stake.”

Cleon clasped his hands together as if to stop them shaking. “You know what will happen to you if you do this?”

“I know, but I have a plan. Or, at least, the outline of a plan.”

“I could be executed for even listening to you,” Cleon moaned.

“I will not tell you if you do not want to hear it.”

Cleon’s shoulders slumped. “I would guess that the only reason you want to tell me is because you need my help. That means that, if I refuse to help you, you will go ahead anyway. You will do something dramatic, which will result in your death. Am I right?”

Brude nodded. “I am sorry.”

Cleon let out a deep breath. “I was a slave, you know. The son and grandson of slaves. Old
Aquila
’s father freed me in his will. I was thirty years old then, the age you are now but I knew nothing except the life of a slave. Since then I have tried to live as quietly and as comfortably as possible. Now it comes to this.”

“I am truly sorry, Cleon. I should not have told you.”

Cleon waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense! It would have been far worse for me if you had not told me and ended up getting yourself killed. I don’t think I could bear that. You, my dear Marcus, have a way of making people want to do as you say. It is just that what you want from me is a great deal. A very great deal.”

“If I for me ifthink of another way to do it, I would,” Brude told him earnestly.

“I know.”

“So will you help me? Help me to do this in a way that keeps us alive?”

“Of course I will. You know, you are probably the bravest man I have ever met. I never had the courage to leave
Rome
and go back to my homeland. Yet, you turn your back on everything that most men want so that you can return to the wilds with your houses of sticks and mud. Then, when
Rome
, the mightiest power on earth threatens you, you ride through half the province to rescue your son. Now you have decided to kill the emperor himself. I wish I was unafraid like you.”

“I am afraid,” said Brude, “My heart beats fast and my nerves are on edge just thinking about this. I don’t want to die.”

“Who does?” Cleon responded. “But the difference is that you don’t show your fear. Look at me, I am trembling like an autumn leaf and you haven’t even told me what your plan is yet. By Hercules, I could do with a drink right now.”

“Then let us go back to Caralugnus’ house. We can lock ourselves in a room with a pitcher of wine. I will tell you my plan and you can tell me what is wrong with it.”

Ten days after Brude had outlined his idea, Cleon began to think it might actually have a chance of success. He had told Brude he was not a brave man, and it was true. He lost a lot of sleep over what he had committed to do. But in all his life, Brude was the one person he had come across whom he considered a true friend. Born and brought up in
Greece
, from a long line of slaves, he had been brought to
Rome
when he was in his early twenties by Lucius’ grandfather. He had stayed there ever since. Like many Greeks, he both admired and feared the Romans. Their civilisation was young compared to
Greece
, but they had imposed their way of life on almost all the known world.
Greece
, for the first time, was at peace, the constant inter-city warfare that had dogged Greek culture for centuries having been crushed into obedience to Roman rule. Yet Cleon had become even more Greek during his time in
Rome
, trying in some small way to show that he was not a Roman. Deep down he knew that
Rome
did not care, as long as he did what was required of him. That was what hurt him most. Eg aafter he had been freed, he had spent his life conforming. Submitting. He feared that he was still a slave. Brude had shown him a way to change that.

Cleon thought about his ties to
Rome
. He had had a healthy regard for old
Aquila
, occasionally bordering on friendship, but it was a friendship born of mutual respect for each other’s abilities rather than true closeness. As for young Lucius, Cleon felt that he owed no real allegiance to him, whatever Lucius may have felt. The young man had turned from a quiet, polite boy into a driven, ambitious individual who had little time for anyone who could not further his career. Cleon was certainly not in that category. While he was useful to Lucius as a private secretary, he was certainly not indispensable.

Yet Brude, or Marcus as Cleon still thought of him, was different. When
Aquila
had first mentioned the idea of hiring an ex-gladiator to train Lucius in the use of the sword, Cleon had thought the idea crazy but had gone along with it to humour the old knight. At
Aquila
’s bidding, he had spoken to Trimalchio and, more importantly, to Trimalchio’s freedmen and slaves. He had also spoken to the old lanista, Curtius. Then he had surreptitiously watched Brude from a distance on a few occasions. Everything he heard and saw suggested that the freed gladiator was not a simple brute from the wilds of Caledonia but a man who kept himself to himself, who spoke well, who learned quickly and who could be trusted. So Cleon had recommended to
Aquila
that he speak to the gladiator himself. Two days later, Brude had become part of
Aquila
’s household.

He was half Cleon’s age when he arrived, yet Cleon found a friend. Brude had been keen to learn as much as Cleon could teach him about anything and everything. The young Caledonian had learned to read and write and to speak Greek with a speed which astonished Cleon. He had found himself enjoying teaching the young man far more than he had ever enjoyed teaching
Aquila
’s sons. Brude was indeed like the son he had never had.

Now Brude was determined to embark on the most dangerous venture anyone could dream of. And Cleon had agreed to help him because of their friendship and because he realised that Brude’s motives were not selfish. Many emperors had met violent deaths, either by the sword or by poison, but always it had been because someone else wanted the power that being emperor brought. Brude wanted the emperor’s death to end a war and to save his people. He wanted nothing more than to melt back into obscurity, far from the empire, with no dreams of power for himself. It was a humbling experience for Cleon, so used to the competitive nature of Roman society, to find someone who genuinely wanted something for the good of other people without reward for himself. Men like Caralugnus, he knew, would pay for public buildings at their own expense but they, in turn, expected to be elpositions of authority. Nobody Cleon knew had ever truly done anything without an element of self-interest. So Brude had snared him with his plans for self-sacrifice and Cleon had agreed to help.

At first he had not known what he could do but all Brude initially wanted was information and here, Lucius was very useful. The young officer, like many Romans, often spoke in the presence of slaves and freedmen as if they were not there. He was always prepared to speak about his relationship with Geta Caesar at the slightest prompting. Cleon only had to express mild curiosity and Lucius would show off how close he was to the emperor’s son by revealing the latest gossip from the imperial family.

Cleon also made a point of wandering the corridors of the Principia, speaking to any slaves and freedmen he met. He adopted the persona of an overly friendly old man who liked to talk, not a difficult task for him as he had always enjoyed gossip and was naturally outgoing. Every couple of days he would meet Brude and his companions at Caralugnus’ house to pass on whatever pieces of information he could.