Isle of the Blessed

II - The Dragon's Domus-2

The eagles of Rome had come to toss the young of others from the nest, and taken it for themselves.

As Lucius walked along the top of the grassy embankments, he remembered thinking that the hillfort must once have been the fortress of kings, and he felt a hint of guilt that it had been turned into a simple Roman supply station upon which no Britons were permitted, unless they were army personnel.

It was now his family’s home, a wedding gift from Adara’s parents who had never even seen the place, and who had acquired it in a business deal of some sort.

“Is that our new home, Baba?” Phoebus had asked as they all stood upon the road gazing up at the titanic, grassy mound.

“Yes, I believe it is,” Lucius had said to his son.

“I’ve heard of this place,” Einion said on the horse beside Lucius’ own. “It was the power centre of the Durotriges, my distant kinsmen.”

“Ynis Wytrin is not far away either,” Briana said to Adara and the children who were in the wagon with her, their horses tagging along behind on leads.

“I wonder what condition Rome has left it in?” Lucius mused. “I wrote to one of the magistrates in Durnovaria some time ago to ensure that it had been taken care of.”

“Then let us see what they have made of it,” Adara said. “Come.” She flicked the reins of the wagon and it lurched forward.

Rome had done little upkeep to the hillfort, as it turned out. After all, it was not used as a defensive work, and was basically Lucius’ private property, therefore his responsibility. There was no need for such defensive works in the South, especially in that area where there were more temples, villas and mines than legionary camps and signal towers.

It had been difficult to get the wagon up the narrow roadway to the north-eastern gate of the fortress, but when they did, a great expanse of grass, kissed anew with early Spring, was spread out before them like a sheet in the wind.

“It’s so big!” Calliope had said, her young, bright eyes wide in disbelief, her mind already working on the array of games she and her brother could play there.

Lucius had kicked Lunaris forward up the gentle slope of the hill to see what was there, and found only the overgrown ruins of native roundhouses, a few stray, grazing sheep, and a single Roman stable block and outbuilding that served as the resupply station. There wasn’t even a trooper manning it.

“I guess folks are just supposed to help themselves?” Einion said as he looked around.

“Not much to it, is there?” Briana said.

“We’ll make something of it,” Lucius said, turning Lunaris to face all of them.

And they had made something of it.

Living in the campaign tents he had brought for all of them, Lucius had begun planning the layout of their new home upon that ancient hillfort. For a while, they had lived like they were on campaign, sleeping in the tents, scouting the surrounding countryside, and familiarizing themselves with their new lands.

It was exciting.

They had arrived at what was really a lonely, scarred and windswept hill, and with a lot of hard work, and the funds Lucius had saved away with the imperial payroll, they had made the place a home.

The hill was large, almost eighteen acres within the ramparts. In places it was pitted with what had been lined storage holes in addition to the roundhouses on the eastern side. These were mostly grass-covered, but Einion and Briana explained that they would have been lined with baskets and used for winter food stores.

The sudden activity on the old hillfort had drawn many of the locals from the village to the South, across a clear-flowing brook. Some of the men had come up to see what was going on, and when Lucius introduced himself, they seemed at first wary, not returning for a couple of days.

They had never met the Roman owner of the land, a place that had been of great importance to their forbears. It had been over one hundred and fifty years since the Roman onslaught, but the scars and distrust still ran deep.

Some days later, a youthful man from the village came wandering up with his son to greet Lucius.

He appeared to be a potter, though he was built more like a smith, for his long brown hair rested upon immense shoulders. His hands were huge, and when he shook Lucius’ hand, the latter knew he was a man of might. He was also friendly and affable as he spoke, ruffling his son’s hair and nodding at the work Lucius and Einion had been doing on one of the stable blocks.

“I’m Culhwch,” he said. “And this is my son, Paulus.”

“Pleased to meet you, Paulus,” Lucius said, kneeling down to face the boy. “I have a son too. Phoebus is his name. He’s a bit younger than you, I suspect.”

“You are with the legions?” Culhwch asked.

“Yes.”

“On furlough then?”

Lucius looked the man up and down, and Culhwch put his hands up.

“I meant not to pry. I only ask out of curiosity, and for the safety of my family. Sure you understand that?”

Lucius nodded. “I do.”

At that moment, Einion stepped up to Lucius’ side. “Lucius Metellus Anguis is a friend of the Britons hereabouts. You need not worry, friend.”

“A Roman with Dumnonian friends, eh?” the man smiled broadly. “Well. Then you are both welcome to Durotrigan territory.”

“I’ve been in these lands for years myself,” Einion said.

“Where? I’ve not seen you before.”

“Ynis Wytrin was my home,” Einion said.

The man fell silent and nodded, his eyes looking to the northwest. “If Ynis Wytrin welcomes you, then I shall call you friends from now on.” He rubbed his beard and looked back to Lucius. “I have heard of you, I think. Some of the troops in the taberna at Lindinis mentioned a ‘Dragon Praefectus’ fighting in the North. ‘Anguis’, is it? That means ‘dragon’, no?”

“It does,” Lucius said.

“Then this is your new lair!” he laughed, but not mockingly.

“I suppose it is,” Lucius said, smiling and patting Einion on the shoulder.

“What do you intend to do with the place?” Culhwch asked. “When the winds pick up here toward October, that tent of yours will fly to the heavens.”

“I’ll show you,” Lucius said, easing into the man’s friendly manner. He led him to a roughly-hewn table where several papers were held down with rocks. One of them was a charcoal sketch of a rectangular stone hall with roof tiles.

Culhwch looked over the picture and nodded. “On the high plateau of the fortress?”

“Of the hill, yes,” Lucius corrected, careful not to talk of fortifications or other defensive works that might void his building permits in the eyes of the local magistrate.

“Tiles will be quite expensive, but will last longer than thatch up here in the wind. Have you hired work crews yet?”

Lucius looked suspiciously at him then, wondering if he had only come to drum up business. “No. I haven’t. We need to source the proper stone, and the tiles.”

“Well, if you want help, I can give it to you. My brother has one of the best crews around. He’s built several of the villas around Lindinis, some for members of the ordo there. He also has contacts at the hillfort limestone quarry south of Lindinis.”

“Maybe you can bring him around?”

“I can.”

“What of the roof tiles and timbers for the supporting beams?” Einion asked.

“The tiles are manufactured in Lindinis as well. My brother will know who to go to. As for the timbers, there is a man in our village who can find the proper timbers for you and take care of transport up here.”

“And what about yourself?” Lucius asked. “Is there some service you want to provide?” He could not help sounding a little bitter now, and regretted it instantly.

“This isn’t Rome, Praefectus. I offer neighbourly friendship. But, if you decide you need a new set of dishes and wine cups when your home is built, then I can offer you something.” He winked, and Lucius smiled, embarrassed.

“Forgive me. My suspicions have come from dealing with too many snakes. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Not at all. Think nothing of it. But I must be going. My wife, Alma, will be waiting for Paulus and me for our supper.” He turned to go. “I’ll bring my brother, Cradawg, up to see you soon, as well as Silvius who can speak with you about the wood needed for that monstrous roof.” He nodded toward the sketch and waved.

“I don’t really know what to make of him,” Lucius said to Einion as they watched Culhwch and his son walk toward the slope of the south-west gate and back toward the distant village.

“We’ll see if he does what he said he’ll do,” Einion said suspiciously. “Can never tell with Durotrigans.”

Lucius laughed.

Culhwch was as good as his word, Lucius soon found out, for he returned two days later with his brother and the woodsman.

Cradawg was a larger version of his younger brother, Culhwch, and Silvius looked like a woodland beast himself, tall, lanky, and lean, with a great beard that seemed bedecked with bits of leaf and carried a permanent scent of wood shavings.

Culhwch introduced Lucius and Einion to the two men, and it was not long before they were hunched over the rough sketches Lucius had done up, with some help from Adara’s skilled hand.

“You sure you want to build up here, Praefectus?” Cradawg said after a few minutes of studying the plans. “If you built down in the field, you could have running water from the brook, and even build in some hypocausts for the winter time. It’s green here now, but let me tell you, when the wind starts howling at mid-winter, you’ll wish you were in a proper Roman house.”

“This is the land that is ours,” Lucius answered. “And…” he paused, looking around at the vast surface area of the grassy mound. “Yes. I’m sure. I want to build the domus there.” He pointed at the uppermost part of the plateau where the campaign tent stood, battered by the wind.

Cradawg nodded. “Well, if it was good enough for our great grandfathers to live up here, it’s good enough for you.” He clapped his hands. “I can build what you want. A rectangular structure with a second level on the North side, with an inner walkway overlooking the hall. It may be a bit awkward, but I can see your reasoning.”

“And I can get my lads to build a proper frame for the roof,” Silvius added, looking at the plateau as if to envision the structure. “We’ll have to place an order for the tiles soon. It’s not too many, but the workshops in Lindinis are quite busy at the moment with a few more villas being built in the area.”

“Right,” Cradawg agreed.

“So how long are you thinking this could take?” Lucius asked.

“Up to a year,” Cradawg said. “Things are busy, and we need to get the stone cut to size and transported from the old quarry near Lindinis.”

“That’s too long,” Lucius said. “I’d like to have my family indoors by the end of Summer.”

“Ha!” Silvius laughed. “Impossible! That’s only a few months away!”

“What will it take?” Lucius asked, looking Cradawg in the eye.

The big Durotrigan rubbed his chin and appeared to be going over numbers and lists of supplies in his mind.

“Well,” he said. “Since you don’t want hypocausts, and the design of the building is plain enough, I suppose it could be done if we double our man-power and pay extra for speed at the quarry and tile kilns.”