Part 10 (1/2)

From Aquae Sulis, the military road angled northeast across Britannia. After we left Corinium it rose gradually, pa.s.sing through wild hill country as it approached Ratae. Nonetheless, we continued to find mansios and posting inns s.p.a.ced a day's travel apart along the road, and from time to time I would glimpse through the trees the red-tiled roof of a villa. This, Constantius a.s.sured me, was a gentle land compared to the mountains near Eburac.u.m, but I, accustomed to the marshlands of the Summer Country, gazed at the blue distances and wondered.

As we neared Lindum, we came to flat green countryside like the Trinovante lands where I had lived as a child. I took refuge in those memories, and began to talk to Constantius about my father and my brothers, fitting together my memories like some Roman mosaic of the life of a British prince who had adopted, for the most part, the ways of Rome.

”My own family is not so different,” said Constantius. ”My people come from Dacia, the land away to the north of Greece, where the Carpatus mountains curve around the great plain. I was born in a villa on the Danuvius, where the river cuts through the gra.s.slands. Dacia is still a frontier province-we became Roman even later than you Britons-and the Goths keep trying to make us barbarian once again...”

”We heard that the Emperor Claudius had beaten them at Nissa,” I said when the silence had continued for too long. It had been some time since we had pa.s.sed a villa, and though the road was elevated, a tangle of trees pressed close on either side. The clip-clop of our mounts' hooves seemed loud in that empty land.

”Yes... I was there...” answered Constantius, rubbing at the spot on his thigh where I remembered seeing a scar. ”But it was a near thing. They came from the east, across the Euxine Sea. Our garrison at Marcianopolis fought them off, but they sailed south and managed to break through into the Aegeum, where they split into three armies. Gallienus wiped out the Herulians in Thracia, but the Goths were still rampaging around Macedonia.

”We finally caught up with them at Nissa. It's hard to defend against wandering bands that hit a village and run, but barbarian troops can't stand against our heavy cavalry...” His eyes were bleak with memory. ”It was a slaughter. After that, it was mostly a matter of mopping up. Hunger and bad weather killed as many of the stragglers as we did. That, and the plague.” He fell silent, and I remembered that the plague had killed Romans as well, including his great-uncle the Emperor.

”Was your home safe?” I asked in an attempt to turn his mind from thoughts of battle.

He blinked, and managed a smile. ”Yes, it was-the Goths were after older and richer towns. It was one time when living on the frontier worked to our advantage. My people have been there since Trajan conquered the land.”

”My father's family ruled the country north of the Tamesis even before the Romans came,” I observed a trifle smugly. The sun was breaking through the clouds, and I unhooked my broad hat from the saddle and put it on. ”But my ancestor made alliance with the Divine Julius, and took his family name.”

”Ah-” answered Constantius, ”my own ancestry is less ill.u.s.trious. One of my ancestors was a client to Flavius Vespasia.n.u.s, the great Emperor, hence the family name. But the first of my line to settle in Dacia was a centurion who married a local girl. But that's nothing to be ashamed of. Some say that Vespasia.n.u.s himself was descended from one of the founders of Rome, but I am told that the Emperor laughed at that idea, and admitted that his grandfather had been a ranker in the legions. It does not matter. We are all Romans now...'

”I suppose so,” I replied. ”I know Coelius kept the Roman festivals. I remember going with him to the great temple of Claudius in Camulodunum to burn incense to the Emperor. In matters pertaining to government he was a Roman, but he kept to the old ways when it was a question of the health of the land. That is how I came to be conceived,” I added unwillingly. ”In the year of the great floods he appealed to Avalon, and my mother, who was the High Priestess then, travelled to Camulodunum to perform the Great Rite with him.”

”So you are royal on both sides.” Constantius smiled at me, then grew thoughtful. ”Did your father ever formally adopt you?”

I shook my head. ”What need?” I said bitterly. ”I was always intended for Avalon... Does it matter to you?” I added, seeing his frown.

”Not to me-” he said quickly. ”It may have some legal implications... for our marriage.”

”You want to marry me?” In truth, I had not thought much about it, having grown to womanhood in Avalon, where the priestesses did not bind themselves to any man.

”Of course! Or at least,” he added, ”make some legal arrangement that will protect you-was not that ceremony we performed at your festival a wedding?”

I stared at him. ”It was the union of the earth and the sun, meant to bring life to the land-the G.o.d and the G.o.ddess were wedded, as was the case with my parents, not the priest and priestess who performed the rite.”

He reined in abruptly, blocking my pony, and faced me. A pair of warblers lifted from the hawthorn hedge, calling. ”If you do not consider yourself my wife, why did you come with me?”

My eyes filled with tears. ”Because I love you...”

”I am an initiate, but not an adept of the Mysteries,” Constantius said after a long moment had pa.s.sed.

”The only way I knew how to make those vows was as a man. And you were my lady-the first time I saw you I knew you were the woman whose soul was bound to my own.”

It occurred to me suddenly that Ganeda's plan could never have worked even if I had not interfered. If Aelia had been the priestess, Constantius would have refused to go through with the ritual. He reached out and seized my hand.

”You are mine, Helena, and I will never abandon you. This I swear to you by Juno and all the G.o.ds. You will be my wife in fact, whether or not you bear the name. Do you understand?”

”Volo-”I am willing ,” I whispered past the lump in my throat. At least I had had a vision. Only honour, and his n.o.ble heart, kept this man at my side.

I think it was at that moment, standing in the road somewhere in the middle of Britannia, that my marriage to Constantius truly began.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

AD 271.

The wicker back of my round chair creaked as I leaned into it. The pose was deceptively casual: from here I could see past the frescoing of fruits and flowers around the doorway to the kitchen, where Brasilia should be readying the next course of the meal. Our guests, two of the more successful merchants based at Eburac.u.m, had just about finished the pickled eggs and the oysters served raw in the sh.e.l.l with a sharp sauce. This was one of several little dinners Constantius had held in the year we had been here, building a network of goodwill among the merchants in the town.

It seemed to be working. The pewter business was prospering. I knew that Constantius would rather have been with the men of the Sixth Victrix in the great fortress across the river, though in truth, since the wild tribes beyond the Wall had for some time been peaceful the legion was rather under-strength, and there was not much activity there. The busy town, which since the time of Severus had been the capital of Britannia Inferior, was where the real power lay now, and Constantius seemed to be one of those men who could do well at anything to which he put his mind.

I glimpsed Philip, a Greek boy whom we had recently added to the household, hovering in the pa.s.sage, and beckoned to him to clear away the platters. Constantius, who was still listening attentively to the older of the merchants, one of the large Sylva.n.u.s clan who traded in linen from Eburac.u.m and pottery from Treveri, gave me an encouraging smile.

I smiled back, though acting the part of a Roman lady still felt a bit unreal. Avalon had trained me for many things, but they did not include planning a formal banquet and making small talk over the wine. For this, I would have been better prepared if I had grown up with the other simpering girl-children in my father's hall. Still, Constantius needed a hostess, and I did my best to pretend I was at ease.

I had learned to paint my face, and dress my hair in a complex knot with a Greek bandeau to hide the crescent moon upon my brow. Constantius's business was prospering, and he delighted to give me things.

I now had a chest full of linen s.h.i.+fts and tunicas in finely-woven coloured wool, and earrings and a pendant of the locally worked jet, the roundel carved with Constantius's face and my own.

Spinning was a traditional woman's occupation among the Romans, and that was a craft that I knew well. But when we arrived in Eburac.u.m I had no more known how to manage a house than fight a battle.

I had no time to pine for Avalon-there was too much to learn. Fortunately, we had an excellent cook in Brasilia. Constantius had grown visibly more solid this past year. She would have resented any attempt on my part to direct her, even if I had had any notion of cookery. She did, however, require me to memorize the ingredients, so that if any of the guests inquired, I could do justice to her artistry.

Philip brought in the next course, a dish of tiny cabbages called coliculis cooked with sweet green peppers, and mustard greens. It was seasoned with thyme and served over a puree of jellied hare. With the gravity of one engaged in some holy rite he served out portions onto the plates, good red Samian ware, probably purchased from Lucius Viducius, whose couch was next to my chair. His family had been leaders in the pottery trade between Eburac.u.m and Rothomagus in Gallia for as long as Constantius's relations had been manufacturing pewter, I took a bite, then set the spoon down again. It tasted well enough, but my stomach was rebelling. I had not even attempted the oysters.

”You do not eat, domina-are you unwell?” asked Viducius. He was a big man with blond hair going now to grey who looked more like a German than a Gaul.

”A momentary upset,” I answered. ”No need for concern... Please eat, or my cook will never forgive me. Constantius tells me that you travel to Gallia twice a year. Will you be going oversea again soon?”

”Very soon,” he nodded. ”Your man is hoping to persuade us to carry his wares to Germania on the s.h.i.+p that will bring back our own. May Nehalennia keep us safe from storms!”

”Nehalennia?” I echoed politely. This was a G.o.ddess of whom I had not heard.

”She is a G.o.ddess much favoured by traders. They have made a shrine for her on an island where the Rhenus flows into the ocean. My father Placidus set up an altar for her there when I was a child.”

”Is she then a German G.o.ddess?”

I cast a swift glance around. Constantius had drawn the second man, a s.h.i.+p-owner, into his conversation. There were more dishes on the table now: broiled mullets braised in olive oil with pepper and wine, and lentils with parsnips cooked with herb sauce. I took a little of each, though I did not try to eat them, and turned back to Viducius with a smile.

”Perhaps,” he was answering, ”my father came originally from Treveri. But I think she likes best the lowlands that face the north sea. It is there that the sea lanes and the land roads meet; from there, she can guard all the ways...”

My face must have shown something then, for he stopped, asking what was wrong.

”Not wrong: I was only reminded of a British G.o.ddess, whom we call Elen of the Ways. I wonder if they could be the same?”

”Our Nehalennia is shown sitting, with a dog at her feet and a basket of apples in the crook of her arm,”

the trader replied.

I smiled and leaned down to pat Eldri, who lay, as usual, at my feet hoping that some morsel would fall.