Eagle in the Snow: A Novel of General Maximus and Rome's Last Stand

I watched him go up the track, saw him show his papers to the sentry and disappear from sight into the heather beyond. He had changed out of all recognition and perhaps I had too. I wondered what the Picts would make of him—a man with no hair.

II

SOMETIME in the middle of winter, on a stormy night, two men and a woman, mounted on ponies and riding for their lives, came in out of the heather and clamoured for shelter. They were allowed through and in the morning I interviewed them. By their dress and by the way they did their hair Saturninus thought they might be Vacomagi from the great mountains in central Caledonia—a tribe untouched by Rome since the days of Agricola. But we did not ask them. All were young. The woman was dark, with long black hair and skin the colour of warm milk. She was very beautiful. The two men were her brothers. I heard a confused tale of a tyrannical uncle, of the young lover slain in jealousy by this man, of the brothers killing him in his turn, and of a blood feud that had split the tribe.

“There was a meeting of the elders, excellency,” said the younger brother in a tired voice. “We were proscribed and fled to avoid our deaths.”

“Very well,” I said. “You may stay under the protection of Rome, provided that you are obedient to our laws. But what will you do now?”

The elder brother said, nervously, “We can shift for ourselves. But our sister is another matter. Does your excellency, perhaps, need a woman to manage his house? She is a good cook and obedient and would give no trouble.”

It did not seem to me an accurate description of her at all, but I understood what he was trying to say. “Thank you, no,” I said. “I have a wife and my household is full. I have no need of any servants.” The woman stiffened at that and put up her chin. There was, for a moment, an expression in her eyes that I could not read, and then she dropped her head and stared sullenly at the floor.

They stayed in the civilian settlement for a while, and then the woman was taken up by my second-in-command and he asked my permission to marry her. The brothers were agreeable and the woman too, and I said yes without hesitation. She was a woman to turn men’s heads and already there had been fights in the settlement over her. Married she would cause less trouble.

I could not have been more wrong.

Quintus became a regular visitor to our fort, and did much to cheer up Aelia during the cold months of rain and snow. Spring came early that year, and then summer burst upon us in a blaze of heat. Aelia was very pale at this time and a little unhappy, I think, but I put it down to her remorse at having lost one of the ear-drops I had given her, though I had told her a dozen times that it did not matter. To give her a change I arranged for her to spend some months in Eburacum and, after much argument, she agreed to go. At the last moment she changed her mind and wanted to stay, but Quintus, who had ridden over to try our new wine and who was lounging on the steps, agreed with me, so she gave in to our persuasion. I missed her badly but I was soon to be glad that she had gone.

The trouble began in July on the night of the full moon. I was in the office, working late, when my adjutant, Vitalius, came in. There were beads of sweat on his face and he had the look of a man who has talked with demons.

“What is it?” I said. “What’s the matter, man?”

“We have been betrayed, sir.”

“Sit down. You look ill. Tell me about it.”

He licked his lips. “It’s that woman, the wife of Gaius. She knew I was married. She’s been on at me for weeks, pestering me, asking me—she wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“And so?”

“I love my wife.” He stared at me defiantly. “I do. But—but she is very beautiful and—and in the end I forgot myself.” He buried his face in his hands and his shoulders shook at the memory of the betrayal.

“Is that all? Does Gaius know?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. Afterwards, she threatened to tell him unless I helped her. She said I could have her always if I helped her.”

“What help does she want?”

“There is a great conspiracy. The tribes of the far north have promised to join with the men between the walls. She is a spy. She came with her brothers for that purpose. Their story was false.”

“What else?”

“They have been bribing and suborning the auxiliaries. All the Brigantes among the garrison will mutiny when the time comes. The province is to be freed for ever from Roman rule.”

“Boudicca had the same idea.”

“It is true. I swear it. The tribes have taken the blood oath. And they have allied themselves with the Scotti.”

“How many men in this garrison will stand by us?”

“Less than half.”

Now I, too, was afraid.

“When is the rising timed for?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“We have twenty-four hours then in which to save something from the wreckage.” I spoke lightly and he said, incredulously, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I believe you—though not about the Scotti. When have the Picts and they ever been friends?”

He shrugged his shoulders.