Eagles and Dragons Tribune Box Set

III - Knives in the Dark-1

III

Cultri in Tenebris

‘Knives in the Dark’

The exercise hall that had been the former Principia was a large, covered space with an observation platform at the eastern entrance. The air was humid and scented of mould. Rainwater dripped in the dark corners of the rafters, but the structure was solid enough and well-used. At that late hour it was dark, with only a few torches providing flickering orange light where they protruded from braces on the surrounding columns.

Lucius, Dagon and Barta entered briskly through the tall oak doors. Ten guards stood at intervals in the half-light, and in the centre of the dirt floor of the hall stood the Praetorian messenger. The man was calm, infused with confidence in the imagined invincibility his position afforded him. Lucius suppressed his annoyance; apart from his friend Alerio Cornelius Kasen, who had been made a Praetorian centurion, he trusted none of the Imperial Guard. Lucius strode straight up to the messenger, flanked by Dagon and Barta.

“You have dispatches for me?” He held out his hand for the leather carrying tube, but the man did not offer it.

“Praefectus Lucius Metellus Anguis?” He looked Lucius up and down.

“Of course. Who else?” Lucius still held out his hand.

“Just checking, sir. You are not known to me personally.” He finally handed Lucius the tube. “I have only heard you spoken of by Centurion Cornelius.”

Lucius looked up. “Did Alerio send you? What is your name, soldier?”

“I am Crato. Caesar Caracalla sent me via Centurion Cornelius.”

“How nice for you.” Lucius replied, unimpressed. “Where is the imperial force now?”

“I have heard that you have apprehended the Boar of the Selgovae.”

Dagon looked at Lucius, not succeeding in hiding his surprise very well. Lucius studied the man more closely.

“We have, yes. I have dispatches for you to carry back, requesting a detachment to pick up all the prisoners.”

Dagon handed the messenger a sealed scroll. The man nodded and tucked it beneath his cloak. He stared at Lucius.”

“May I see the prisoner?”

“Which one? There are many.”

“The Boar, of course. I-”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Lucius cut him short. “He’s surrounded not only by my men, but by hundreds of his warriors. I have him in a secret place. Secure until he is moved to Eburacum. I’m sure the emperor would like to meet him.”

“Is he in this building?” the man persisted.

“A secret place. You understand, I’m sure. We can’t risk him being rescued. The walls have ears… and I wouldn’t want you to be disciplined for going beyond your messenger’s duties.”

“Of course,” the man relented and turned to go.

“You haven’t answered my question. Where is the imperial army?”

“Still in Eburacum. But there is movement.” The man put his hood on and made to leave. “Just read the dispatches, Praefectus. It’s all in there.”

Lucius knew he would get no information from the man. He could feel Barta tense behind his shoulder.

“Do you require quarters? We have a couple spare beds in the barracks, I believe.”

“I don’t think so, Praefectus. I’ve taken rooms in the mansio for the night.”

“Very well.” Lucius paused, remembered his duty as host commander. “If you require anything else, notify my men.”

Without another word, the messenger withdrew quickly out of the doors and into the rain. Lucius watched, silent, where the firelight splashed on the wet flagstones outside.

“Have him watched, Dagon.”

“The messenger?”

“He’s no messenger.” Lucius looked at Barta. “See the string of blades beneath his cloak?” Barta nodded. “No mail messenger carries weapons like that. He’s a Praetorian spy.”

The three men went back into the night to the commander’s house and the Sarmatian guards inside the exercise hall shut the doors and barred them from the inside.

Lamplight licked the darkness about the disarrayed campaign table where Lucius sat in his quarters. It was well past the sixth hour of darkness and the rain had finally taken its ease. Harvest moonlight breached the small windows at his back as he stared at the remaining unopened message – the one from his wife.

He had left that one for last, partly because it was the one he most looked forward to, but also because his warring self was fearful of weakness. They had been apart for a long while now. Had Adara changed? He knew he had, and that alone caused him apprehension.

There had been two dispatches from Eburacum. The first was from Caesar Caracalla relaying the emperor’s plans and praising the Sarmatian cavalry under Lucius’ command. Caracalla always said more in person, but his tone was oddly congenial and full of camaraderie as he stated his eagerness to join the men of the Legions on the campaign march. Despite Caesar’s tone, however, Lucius knew better than to fall into a false sense of security. The man was a chimera of emotion.

The other letter was from Alerio and it filled the gaps left by the Caesar’s generalities. The emperor was pleased with the progress the Ala III Britannorum was making, and he promised a long furlough for Lucius and his men once they had secured a position far enough to the North. Which was where they were to push on to. Lucius was being commanded to push hard up to the very edges of the Caledonian highlands, moving in conjunction with the VI and XX Legions. Supply lines would be secured by re-establishing some of the old marching camps including the iron Gask frontier forts. Once that was done, supplies and more troops could be brought in easily by sea.

Before any of that could happen, Lucius knew he had to renew the treaty and oaths of the Votadini to the East. They had been strong Roman supporters for many years, trained in Roman tactics, and had been the only ones to keep the Selgovae in check. Sentiment however, was useless. Rome had left the Votadini to fend for themselves while it pulled back to the Great Wall. They would need reassurances, and rightly so. Lucius had sent word to their leader, Coilus, some days ago, and expected an embassy any time. The Votadini were fierce warriors and expert cavalrymen. Much depended on their support.

The rest of Alerio’s message remained official in detail and tone, and Lucius wondered at what might remain of their old, once-iron friendship. There had been no assurance of Adara and the children’s safety in Alerio’s missive.

Having escaped into the military details for long enough, Lucius reached for the scroll from Adara and held it to his forehead briefly. Then he broke the seal, which did not appear to have been tampered with, and read.

Lucius Metellus Anguis

Praefectus, Ala III Britannorum

My beloved Lucius, husband,

It seems an age since I last looked upon you. It has been an age! It is late into the night now and I am writing as the children sleep – for it is the only time I have to myself. I hope that this message actually reaches you, my love.

First of all, though you may already know this, we are safe in Eburacum. This has been an arduous journey, the sea voyage from Ostia to Massilia was trying, but the crossing from Gesoriacum was positively terrifying, despite our offerings to Poseidon. Perhaps the waters surrounding Britannia are less known to him? It was even worse than my crossing to Africa years ago when I was pregnant with the children, and Alene was still with us. Do you remember that blackened sky?

It was good to have broken the journey over land from Massilia to Lugdunum on the way to Gesoriacum. Gaul really is quite beautiful in places and as I said in my last letters, I still think you would love seeing Alesia which I know you read about in your copy of the Divine Julius’ memoirs.

I am rambling now. I know. I just miss you so much I need to tell you everything that is in my mind. The children listen as best as they can but are eventually drawn from their mama’s reminiscences to their toys. Who can blame them, really? They are so grown up, Lucius, so smart. I hear all the other mothers following the Imperial court, as I am, expounding on the virtues of their advancing offspring but I am convinced that ours are truly blessed, touched by the Gods. Dare I say it? I must smile at my own pride but they are truly wonderful and take after you and I both. Phoebus has many questions about you and is always practicing with the wooden gladius you gave him before leaving. It is still heavy for him but he is improving, his movements smooth and swift. Calliope is dreamy as ever and full of questions about the stars, the Gods and all manner of things. She loves bedtime stories, especially the one you used to tell her about Perseus and Andromeda. I try but it is not the same, I think. She still sings ever so sweetly. Alene’s songs…always singing. They miss you so much but I think I do most of all, Lucius. There is a painful void in the recesses of my heart while we are apart. I must get back to you, the other half of my soul, as Plato said. I can not explain it well. I have had nightmares, so many that I have made offerings to Morpheus regularly – the dreams have abated but I still fear. Calliope assures me you are well and with such utter certainty she gives me great comfort. But, Lucius, my love, some images haunt me. Beware of fire, round fire. I can not find other words, nor do I wish to dwell on it. I prefer to live in Phoebus and Calliope’s bright optimism.

News from home. It seems it is easy to get letters to me where I am in the imperial train and so your mother has been sending word to me of the family. Your brother, Caecilius, is well and learning to run the estate in Etruria, helping out your mother. Our sculptor friend, Emrys, has been helping a great deal too and has been an invaluable support to your mother. He’s even figured out how to deal with Numa and Prisca. What a sight! I think Prisca has begun to idolize Emrys whose warm charm never ceases to make her smile. Actually, Emrys is heading to Athens for a special commission and has offered to bring your mother with him so she can take up my parents’ offer to come and visit them. They would love to have her and I know she would love to see all that Alene, Gods keep her, had described in her letters when we were there together long ago.

You see? I reminisce, something I do overmuch. Oh how I can not wait to be with you in the present, to live together and look forward rather than back. The children are my saving grace and I enjoy teaching them. Letters, painting, philosophy. I’m afraid, my strong Roman, that they are more Greek at this point.

But I do not know when we shall see you and that is a torment I can no longer bear. Alerio tells me, for I see him once in a while, that the only safe place for us is in Eburacum with the empress and her household. The army will be moving north for the war – I try not to think of you caught in the middle of it as I know you must be. My only comfort is that Dagon and his men love you and follow you. They will not tell me much, only that once your ala has secured one of the Caledonian frontier lines will the children and I be able to join you. The empress has been kind to us and we lack nothing. In fact all the officers’ wives and children are well taken care of. However, I can not help feeling we are always being watched. Thankfully, my only wish is that this campaign ends so that we can be together.

I will stop now, for I know you are likely reading this into the late hours of darkness. For now, my Lucius, know that I love you and long for you with all of my being. You have all my, and the children’s, love. Please also give my wishes to Dagon, Barta and the rest of the men. I too am offering to Epona for all of you. But most of all, I pray to Venus and Apollo. May they watch over you every moment.