The Furies Of Rome Part 17

'But she doesn't know that and nor can we tell her for obvious reasons.' Vespasian looked up at the low grey cloud laden with drizzle. 'Well, nothing's going to happen until what pa.s.ses for spring in this damp s.h.i.+thole arrives, by which time we should be well away, provided she does turn up in Camulodunum in three days' time with Seneca's money.'

Magnus chucked the last piece of pork at his growling dogs and wiped his hands on his fur-lined cloak. 'Right, let's get going. Where's Hormus? Ain't he coming?'

'No, he's doing some business for Caenis and me with the Cloelius Brothers, now that they've returned from their trip to see Cogidubnus,' Vespasian said, heading for the steps down from the side of terrace, at the bottom of which their horses waited. 'We'll get going as he'll be a while.'

The road leading northwest out of Londinium was, as most roads were, straight as an arrow-shaft and cleared of trees and scrub for a hundred paces to either side. The hunting party clattered along it at a good pace, heading for a wooded hill just to the west of the road some three miles from the town. Castor and Pollux lolloped ahead, playing canine games of rough-and-tumble on the short gra.s.s to the side of the road. The all-covering cloud had begun to give up its ample store of moisture, but Vespasian, for once, did not feel gloomy in the miserable conditions as he knew that within a few months he could be back on one of his estates, having stopped off to see t.i.tus in Germania Inferior on the way provided the sea stayed calm enough for the short crossing to the mainland. But even if they were forced to wait until the end of April or beginning of May when the sea routes properly opened up, he would be happy to, in the knowledge that he would soon be away, never to return. And then, once back in Italia he would wait on his estate at Cosa for news as to how he stood with Nero and whether it was safe for him to return to Rome.

As the hill came into view they left the road and cut across country, past a couple of farmsteads where slaves struggled behind plough-horses tilling the thick clay soil in preparation for the season that, unbeknownst to them, would see an end to Roman rule in Britannia. Vespasian still thought it to be a move of the utmost stupidity, politically, but he could see that the economic arguments for it were beginning to stack up, especially bearing in mind Nero's increasing profligacy. In the three months that they had been waiting in the relative comfort of their riverside villa, it had become more and more obvious that, although the small corner of the southeast of the island was peaceful and reasonably pro-Roman, the rest most certainly was not. The Cloelius Brothers had arrived and immediately begun to send their agents around the province calling in their loans and causing ma.s.sive resentment amongst the indigenous tribes. This, in turn, had led to a few beatings and a couple of murders of colonists and merchants; with the four legions in the province wintering on the frontiers to the north and the west and the auxiliary cohorts in the main garrisoning the series of forts along the roads that connected the four legionary camps, there was not much in the way of protection for Roman citizens and Romanised Britons.

The situation had worsened when the rest of the other Londinium bankers had realised what the Cloelius Brothers were doing. Then, when the rumour spread that Seneca had already called in his loans and the largest of these, the one to Prasutagus, was to be repaid without the full interest, a rush to get their money out of the province had begun in earnest, sucking the life out of the economy already damaged by war on the fringes of empire. Building work on the amphitheatre had ground to a halt due to lack of cash flow and local tradesmen who had provided the materials for it, and other stagnated projects, went unpaid. This, naturally, filtered down through the economy as coinage became increasingly hard to get hold of. Those that had it h.o.a.rded it, and those that did not have it fretted for it. Now it had reached the stage whereby those bankers who had not acted with alacrity were unable to recall their loans because there simply was not enough coin in ready circulation for the debtors to pay.

No one was letting their money leave their strongboxes and what was already a cold, damp winter had become even more miserable: unless a tribe or community had a reasonable amount of supplies they would start to go hungry as they would not have the cash to purchase more, and even if it had there was nothing to buy as no one would risk selling their winter surplus during a time of economic crisis.

Thus the new province of Britannia had come to an economic standstill. Many of the merchants had already left but there was another cla.s.s that held too much of a stake in the province to be able to do so: these were the colonists, military settlers who had been rewarded with their own piece of land after serving under the Eagles for their allotted twenty-five years. If they were to leave where would they go? Back to their birth-towns to find work as a labourer or to beg? With no chance of being able to save enough to buy land elsewhere in order to keep themselves and their new families in dignity, they had no alternative but to stay and farm the land that they had been given. Therefore, in amongst the growing discontent of the local people was a large community that could be seen wrongly as being directly responsible for all the woes being visited upon them.

And it was this that Vespasian and his companions now saw direct evidence of; as they pa.s.sed the second of the two farmsteads they plunged into a copse at the base of the hill, urging their mounts up the steadily rising ground. Castor and Pollux had ceased their play and now followed their noses, their pace increasing as a scent freshened. On they went, bounding up the hill swerving around the trees, following the path of their prey. Vespasian drew a javelin from the leather holster attached to his saddle as he kicked his mount forward, the thrill of the chase growing, once again, within him. Caenis, just behind him, let out an unladylike whoop, causing Vespasian to smile at the way she had taken to hunting in the last few months. The hounds cleared the trees and came out onto the heathland that covered the rest of the slope; in the distance, on the hill's crest, could be seen the three deer whose scent had attracted Castor and Pollux's attention. With deep-throated barks the dogs sped away.

But it was not the sight of the quarry that caught Vespasian's eye as he cantered onto the heath nor was it the scent of the trail that caught in his nose; it was a far more acrid smell, the smell of the pillar of dark smoke rising from a point about half a mile to the north.

Vespasian pulled up his horse, swinging it round in the direction of the fire; its source could not be seen, screened, as it was, by another copse. 'Call the dogs back, Magnus!' he ordered as Sabinus and Caenis pulled up next to him.

'Not much chance of that,' Magnus shouted as he sped after his hounds, which were by now brim with canine enthusiasm for the hunt.

'What do you think it is?' Caenis asked, shading her eyes so that the drizzle did not impede her vision.

'It's a veteran's farmstead,' Sabinus a.s.serted, controlling his skittish horse. 'I'm positive; last time we were up here we went back that way chasing that doe which the dogs managed to dismember.'

'You're right,' Vespasian agreed. 'Let's take a look in case they need some help; perhaps their barn's caught fire.'

All three urged their mounts into a canter, traversing the hill; Magnus could be heard shouting at Castor and Pollux, now far in the distance, to desist.

Skirting around the top of the copse they started to descend until heathland gave way to pasture; but its scent was not sweet and it was not just the acridity of the smoke, there was another smell in the air, a smell that both Vespasian and Sabinus knew only too well: the stench of burnt flesh.

They came across the first body lying not far from the plough that he had most likely been using; of the horse, there was no sign. Nor was there any sign of the man's head. What could be seen from this position, though, was that it was not just the barn that was aflame; the whole complex was burning: barn, farmhouse, outbuildings, everything, including a couple of trees.

They approached with caution, on foot and using their horses as s.h.i.+elds should whoever had done this prove to be still present and thirsting for more blood. More bodies lay closer to the buildings, all having fallen in the act of running away, lying on their bellies facing in the direction of the farmstead, if a headless man could be said to be facing anywhere.

'They've all been killed by sword slashes,' Vespasian pointed out, examining a couple of the dead.

'So?' Caenis asked.

'So they weren't killed from a distance, otherwise there would be spent javelins and arrows. It would seem that either their attackers approached them on foot and were right in amongst them before they started killing ...'

'Which is unlikely,' Sabinus said, kneeling down and examining the ground.

'Which is unlikely,' Vespasian agreed. 'Which leaves a sudden, mounted attack.'

'Which it was; look.' Sabinus pointed to what were unmistakeably hoof-prints.

'So, we have a mounted attack by men who would have to be good cavalry to be able to kill from the saddle this efficiently; and, what's more, they were using swords, long swords that should all have been melted down under the terms of the peace agreement. They killed everyone in the fields and then took the house and set it on fire before coming back to remove the heads.' Vespasian looked in the direction of the conflagration. 'We'd better see what they've done with the colonist and his family.'

It did not take long to find him and his wife; they were not amongst the score or so of bodies, some on fire, some just smouldering, that littered the farmyard but, rather, they had been singled out for special treatment. For it was not two trees that blazed next to the buildings; it was two crosses. The crackling remains of the man and his wife hung, contorted and blackened, on the crosses, side by side, eyes, hair, noses and lips burnt away to give them rictus visages of pure horror staring out from the flames. At the foot of each cross lay sizzling chunks of meat that may once have been the bodies of an infant and a baby before they were dismembered.

Caenis put her hand over her mouth but it did not prevent the vomit from squirting out to either side.

'Come,' Vespasian said mounting up. 'There's nothing we can do here. We'd best be going as whoever did this is not long gone. I'm afraid that we're obliged to report this to the official authority.'

Vespasian knew that it would be an onerous task as it meant going to see Catus Decia.n.u.s.

There had been no sign of those responsible for the atrocity as they had made their way back to the road, once Magnus had rejoined them. On the way through they had warned the other two farmsteads; the colonists had pulled their slaves in from the fields and had sent messages to all the nearby settlements.

By the time they reached Londinium, the short winter day was beginning to fade and it was in the half-light that they came to Catus Decia.n.u.s' residence. As their status was known to the guards, they were admitted without question.

'We must see the procurator immediately,' Vespasian informed the steward who met them in the atrium.

'Alas, master,' the man said, smiling with oily regret and bowing his head, 'the procurator is indisposed.'

'Well, un-indispose him then!'

'Alas, master, would that I could but his indisposition involves him not being here.'

'Well, where is he then? Send a messenger to have him brought back here right away.'

The steward paused for a sigh and an apologetic hunching of the shoulders. 'Alas, master, but by not being here I mean that the procurator is not in Londinium.'

'Where's he gone then?'

'Alas, master, I am not privy to that information; all I know is that he left yesterday morning soon after dawn with an ala of auxiliary cavalry. He didn't say where he was going, just that he would be back in seven or eight days.'

Vespasian wanted to hit the man but knew that would get him nowhere. 'Then find out as soon as you can; someone will know in the auxiliary camp. And tell me once you know.'

'It's so typical of a man like Decia.n.u.s to go missing just when he might be of some use,' Sabinus complained as they reached their villa. Torches blazed to either side of the steps leading up to the front door. Slaves scuttled down to them to take their horses around to the stables as they dismounted.

'It's why he wanted to take an ala of cavalry with him that puzzles me,' Vespasian said as he climbed the steps. 'Almost five hundred men is quite a bodyguard.'

'Perhaps he had already heard about some unrest and had gone to suppress it,' Caenis suggested. 'What we saw this afternoon must have been a part of it.'

'No, if there was any danger involved you can be sure that Decia.n.u.s would have sent a junior officer; he's not the sort to put himself in harm's way. No, what he plans to do might cause unrest so he thought it would be better not to take any chances.'

That moment Hormus came into the atrium to greet his master.

'Did the business with the Cloelius Brothers go well, Hormus?' Vespasian asked.

'Indeed, master.' He handed Caenis two scrolls. 'These are the bankers' drafts redeemable with the Cloelius Brothers back in Rome, mistress; the fee was twelve per cent of the total; Tertius Cloelius said that they had added a premium because of the growing tension in the province and the dangers of transporting cash over the sea.'

'I knew he would; but I suppose it's fair enough and, after all, it's Seneca's money not mine.'

'Well done, Hormus,' Vespasian said, 'you did a good job.'

Hormus coloured, unused to praise. 'Thank you, master.'

'Did Tertius tell you when the s.h.i.+p would sail with the cash?'

'Yes, master; he said in a market interval or so.'

'Why so long?'

'Decia.n.u.s ordered him to wait for his return. He's gone to fetch some money and he wants it to be sent to Rome immediately.'

Vespasian frowned. 'Fetch some money? It must be a substantial amount if he wants it to leave the province immediately. Where's he fetching it from?'

'Tertius didn't know exactly; only that he's taken a large body of cavalry with him and he's headed northeast about four days' ride away.'

Vespasian, Caenis and Sabinus all looked at each other in alarm.

'That's a lot further than Camulodunum,' Vespasian said.

Sabinus nodded. 'Much further; you could get to Venta Icenorum in that time.'

'Yes, brother, you could. He must have heard about the Iceni collecting money to pay off Seneca. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d's going to steal Boudicca's gold.'

There was nothing to be done until the following morning and it was as the first glow grew in the eastern sky that Vespasian and his three companions headed in pursuit of the procurator, knowing that he was two days ahead of them. Hormus had been left in Londinium with their slaves as well as Caenis' two slave girls; Caenis had insisted on coming as she felt that the matter was very much of her concern.

To speed them up, each had a spare mount so that they could rotate horses every hour. In this way they were able to reach Camulodunum before midday. A brief enquiry of Paelignus, who looked terrified to see them and flinched every time Vespasian spoke to him, was enough to ascertain that Decia.n.u.s and his men had pa.s.sed through late afternoon two days before, without stopping. They were gaining on them.

Gambling on the fact that Decia.n.u.s would be in no special hurry to reach his destination as the Cloelius Brothers' s.h.i.+p would not sail until he had returned and so therefore there was no point in blowing his escort's horses, they kept their speed at an easy canter knowing that they would steadily eat away at the procurator's lead. And so they retraced their path to the lands of the Iceni, sleeping that night a good distance from Camulodunum wrapped in damp blankets, with only Magnus being able to claim relative warmth snuggled between an exhausted Castor and Pollux. Rising with the sun the following morning they pressed on and, with every hour they travelled, the trail of the ala appeared fresher. As they came to Venta Icenorum at the tenth hour of the day, they arrived to find that the procurator had been in the settlement for only one hour.

But that hour had been enough; the settlement was sealed off.

'I don't care what your orders are, decurion,' Sabinus shouted at the officer commanding the turma of cavalry prohibiting entrance at the southern gate. 'My name is t.i.tus Flavius Sabinus of proconsular rank, up until recently the prefect of Rome itself, and if you do not let us through then I shall personally see to it that you get a tour of the city ending up in the Circus Maximus.' He thrust his face, red with frustration, forward so that their noses almost touched. 'Do I make myself clear, little man?'

Sabinus had evidently explained himself adequately for the decurion swallowed, thought for a moment, and then snapped a salute; a couple of barked orders had his men on the gate open it and Vespasian and his companions trotted through into a town in the grip of a raucous chaos.

Although it was the biggest Iceni settlement, Venta Icenorum consisted of around five hundred habitations, therefore there were also roughly that number of fighting-age men and they were not necessarily all warriors; far from it, for most of the population farmed the surrounding land. Decia.n.u.s had therefore chosen his escort well: the four hundred and eighty troopers of the ala had the town completely under control with groups of them riding through the lanes between the round huts shouting and threatening any of the population at large in order to keep them indoors.

The shouting continued as they made their way to the marketplace at the heart of the settlement where they had previously met Boudicca outside her late husband's hall. As they neared their destination, individual voices could finally be heard and they were raised in anger.

'You have no right!' The voice was harsh and deep and if Vespasian had not met Boudicca he would have thought it to be a man's.

'I have every right as Rome's representative,' Decia.n.u.s replied as Vespasian and Sabinus pushed through the circle of troopers gathered outside Prasutagus' hall; Caenis and Magnus followed them, having tied Castor and Pollux to a post for fear of them attacking the wrong person in such a congested area. The commotion of their arrival caused Decia.n.u.s to turn his head towards them as he sat in his curule chair, a symbol of his power; in his hand he held a scroll. Boudicca stood before him, her wrists manacled and her arms secured by two troopers as if she were a common criminal. The bodies of a dozen of her warriors lay b.l.o.o.d.y on the ground around her.

'What are you doing here?' Decia.n.u.s demanded as he recognised Vespasian and Sabinus.

'I'm here to ask you the exact same question,' Vespasian replied, striding forward to place himself between the procurator and the Queen.

'I don't have to explain myself to you.'

'He's here to steal the money that we have collected to pay off Seneca!' Boudicca screamed, her voice a study in rage.

'Shut that b.i.t.c.h up!'

The trooper who tried to gag her with his hand was rewarded with deep teeth marks between his thumb and forefinger.

'That is not your money, Decia.n.u.s,' Vespasian said.

'I'm the procurator of Britannia and therefore in charge of gathering taxes and the general financial wellbeing of the province. Just after the invasion Claudius lent all the highest ranking n.o.bles substantial sums of money so that they would have senatorial status; lent, mind you, not gave. I am here to recall the loan and to show Claudius' successor just how good a servant I am to him.'

'By stealing Seneca's money?'

'No; Claudius lent to them first so his debt has priority over Seneca's. The Iceni have no right to dispute that now that they're officially a part of the province.'

Boudicca struggled against her restrainers but they held firm. 'My husband's will named me and my daughters as co-heirs with Nero.'

Decia.n.u.s looked at the scroll he was holding and then ripped it in half. 'The will is worthless because under Roman law you cannot inherit.'

'Which law?'

'The lex voconia forbids testators in the first census cla.s.s to name women as their heirs.'

'That law is a hundred years old,' Caenis said.

'But it is still valid.'

'Perhaps, but, as you said, only for people in the first census cla.s.s.'

'Which Tiberius Claudius Prasutagus was; the Emperor Claudius placed him there the last time he held the censors.h.i.+p soon after he had lent him the money to give him that status.' Decia.n.u.s smiled in triumph. 'As procurator I'm well aware of the status of the citizens in the province and Prasutagus along with Cogidubnus and Venutius are all in the first cla.s.s. The will is invalid, therefore he died intestate and so his estate goes to the Emperor unless the heirs would wish to challenge it in the courts, which, of course, they cannot because of their s.e.x. But even if they could they wouldn't succeed as Boudicca and the three daughters are named as co-heirs of half the estate or twelve and a half per cent each. As you well know, in law a husband or wife can only make a bequest to the other of no more than ten per cent of the estate's value. Again we have a cause to make the will null and void. Do you want me to carry on?'

'But this is Iceni land and not under the jurisdiction of Rome!' Boudicca screamed. 'We have our own customs and women have always been able to inherit.'

Decia.n.u.s pointed down at the discarded will. 'Yet as a citizen, which no one can deny he was, your husband made his will under Roman law; he even got two men of proconsular rank to witness it.' He indicated to Vespasian and Sabinus. 'What am I to do?' He leant forward, teeth bared in a parody of a smile. 'I must enforce the law, of course; which means the will is worthless and everything goes to the Emperor and therefore this Iceni land is now part of the Roman province.'

This was too much for Boudicca; with all the strength of her huge frame she tore herself away from her guards and flew at Decia.n.u.s, knocking him backwards off his chair and crunching her manacled wrist down into his face at the moment that the back of his head slammed into the ground. Cartilage was crushed and blood sprayed her hands; Decia.n.u.s' nose was flattened to one side. His scream of pain was cut short as the Queen thumped her right knee, not once but twice, into his genitals causing him to choke with white, searing agony. Boudicca had time for one double-fisted punch that split both the procurator's lips before she was hauled off by half a dozen troopers.

'I thoroughly enjoyed that,' Magnus muttered next to Vespasian.

'I think we all did,' Vespasian said as Decia.n.u.s was helped back to his feet clutching at his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es and hyperventilating.

'Strip her and whip her,' Decia.n.u.s wheezed.

'You can't do that,' Vespasian shouted as Boudicca was pulled away, kicking and hissing. Decia.n.u.s, still hunched over as pain raged through his innards, looked up at Vespasian with half-closed eyes; blood poured from his crushed nose. 'Can't I?'

'No, her husband was a citizen.'

'Just watch me.' He raised a shaking, crooked finger towards Vespasian. 'Tie them up.'

Vespasian, Sabinus and Magnus all went for their swords but many hands grabbed them; hands that were unwilling to disobey a procurator, especially when the status of the arrested was unknown. And as Vespasian felt twine encircling and binding his wrists behind him, a sharp knife was ripped up the back of Boudicca's tunic and it was torn from her to expose great, pendulous b.r.e.a.s.t.s and wads of hair poking from under her arms. As her trousers were wrenched away she raised her eyes to the sky and screeched a curse to her G.o.ds in her own language; long it was and, as the first lash drew blood from her shoulders, it strengthened in intensity. Her body writhed in time to the whip but there was not one sound of pain; just the curse, intoned again and again, each repet.i.tion more venomous than the last as libations of her own blood poured into the earth of her homeland to seal her covenant with the deities of her people.

As the lash came down for the thirtieth time there was a scream, not of agony but of fear and it was not Boudicca: it was far more high-pitched and it was multiple. Into the ring of troopers three girls were dragged, all in their early teens and all naked.