Wallace Breem: Eagle in the Snow

“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.

“Never mind. On whose side is Gaius? Don’t tell me. I can make a good guess.”

“What shall we do?”

“Get your sword,” I said, as I buckled on my own. “I am going down to the house of Gaius and you are coming with me.”

We went out silently, through the gate and across the hard packed turf to the settlement. Most of the huts were in darkness, but through the open door of a wineshop I glimpsed a girl with lank hair, dejectedly sweeping up oyster shells that lay scattered on the floor. Moving quietly, we went round the back of a timber framed house, along the colonnade and up the stairs to a room where a torch burned in a bracket high on the wall. They were both there, sitting together on a couch, and they had the look of people who have just been making love. Gaius rose as I entered and his face went white as he saw my sword. But the woman beside him did not move.

“Gaius,” I said. “I have proof that your wife is a spy and a traitor. She is also a liar and an adulteress. Now prove to me that you are not a traitor also.”

He stared at me, licking his dry lips. “How?” he said at length, and the one word told me that Vitalius had not lied.

I held out a knife to him. “Kill her,” I said. “Now. With this.” He took the knife, stared at it blindly for a moment and then let it drop to the floor. “I cannot,” he said. “If you kill me for it, I cannot.”

He looked at me, anger and despair on his face. “I should have had your command,” he said. “It was my right. I had looked forward to it all those years. And you took it from me—a man half my age.”

“Kill her,” I said. “And I will forget the rest.”

He shook his head. In his own way he was a brave man.

“I love her too much,” he said.

I nodded to Vitalius and he moved and struck awkwardly so that the point went in against the breast bone, slid off with a terrible grating noise, and then broke. Gaius screamed and went down onto his knees like a praying christian, the blade clutched in his hands. Vitalius pushed the sword home then and Gaius fell sideways to the floor.

I turned to the woman. “He sent you,” I said. “I might have known it. He knew I cared for women like you; women with dark hair and a white skin. And if I had not already been married it would have been me and not Gaius you would have worked upon. Is it not so?”

She stood up and smiled. “Yes,” she said. “He came to my people, and I took him into my house, and we planned it together. He is a warrior among warriors. He has the power. It is a great gift to make others see what you wish them to see, to make others believe what you wish them to believe. I know, I can feel his power flowing into me when I touch his hands. My people know that he is descended from the Old Ones. That is why they believe him to be a god.”

I stared at her. I did not understand.

“He is only a man,” I said.

“You are wrong. He is not like other men. Who but he could have done what he has done? He has united the three peoples and together they will destroy this Rome of yours. He will become the God-King and I, who have served him with my body, shall be his Queen.”

“What three peoples?”

“The Picts and the Scotti and the Saxons are at one in this thing. Though you know all now, it is still too late to stop him. You of the Roman kind are all doomed. The Eagles will die. He has said so.”

I hesitated. She was so very beautiful. She had spirit and courage and she had great intelligence. I hesitated again and she saw me hesitate, and laughed. “I shall wait for him,” she said. “If need be I shall wait for him until he joins me. We are of the same web, he and I.”

I remembered Julian. He had loved this woman and had hated Rome. I did not hate Rome. I was a soldier and I loved Rome—that city I had never seen. So I killed her.

Though it was against the law we buried them secretly beneath the house and told no-one. I hoped that the mystery of their disappearance would puzzle the disaffected and perhaps make them hesitate. Whether I succeeded or not, I do not know. It made no difference in the end.

Just before sunrise I issued my orders to those I could trust. Quintus, who had ridden over at my request, was in attendance.

“They won’t attack the Wall itself,” I said. “The north face is too steep, too rocky. They’ll infiltrate by the Burn Gate and the two flanking mile castles. The Arcani will let them through.”

Saturninus said, “The settlement is the danger. Its buildings provide cover up the southern slope and all the way to the fort.”

“Evacuate it at dusk and then burn it.”

He said, “We are very short of missiles. The mule train is late as usual.”

“The drivers are probably sleeping it off in a ditch,” said Quintus, drily.

“Use the stones we quarried to build that new granary. They only need breaking up a little. Quintus, I must leave it to you to warn Eburacum. Say a prayer to Epona that your horsemen get through.”

Saturninus said, “I have a married sister at Aesica. We must warn the other forts, sir.”

“Not until dark. We cannot spare the men.”

He nodded in silence. “And the pay chests, sir?”

“Oh, block up the strong room, of course. If anything goes wrong the money will still be there for our successors. They won’t want to use their own burial fund on us.”

Quintus looked at the sky. “It will be a fine day. We shall not have to shiver for long.”

Later that morning I altered the dispositions of my troops and sent the suspected ones out of camp upon patrols. In the afternoon I began to block up the south portal of the east gate; and all the while the air was thick with a great rasping buzz as the centuries sharpened their swords on the iron rim of the stone tank by the north gate. Then, as night fell, I paraded my few men and we stood to arms along the Wall. I lit the signal fires and they flared up into the night, but no answering flare came from the mile castles to our right and left. Then a glow-worm shone faintly in the west, and I knew that Vindolanda had caught our message; but from the east came no answering signal. The Arcani, faithful in their treachery, waited in silence for their friends.

“At ease,” I said softly, and the men leaned against the parapet and rubbed their hands gently against the hafts of their spears. We had done all that we could. There was nothing left to do now except wait, and the waiting was not for long.