Adrian Goldsworthy - Vindolanda

‘You look as if you need a bath,’ she said, and there was no hint of reproof or hostility in her voice. He was already fumbling with the left shoulder fastening of his mail cuirass. ‘Did I tell you my family have estates near Bergomum? The country folk there have been Roman for centuries, but part of their hearts remain Cenomani. They celebrate Samhain, and when we were little we used to sneak out and watch. One of my nurses told me of how on this one night the dead walk among us and all the power of life and the world cannot prevent them, or hold sway with its laws and rules.’

Sulpicia Lepidina turned over and swam to the far side of the bath. Her skin was smooth, utterly perfect and looked very pale. ‘A night without rules and laws,’ she said, sitting on the shelf that acted as a step, and stretching her long arms out along the lip of the bath. ‘A night like no other.’

Ferox knew that one of the murals showed Pan charging out from some trees to chase naked nymphs and faced with such loveliness he felt as clumsy and ugly as the goat-legged and horned god. His armour seemed even more awkward than usual; his hands fumbled with the straps, but finally he dragged it off over his head and began to work on the quilted jacket underneath.

‘Lady,’ he said, for she had fallen silent and he felt that he ought to say something, but he struggled for words and it was a while before he tried again. ‘Lady, I am glad to find you safe.’

‘It seems that once again I owe you my thanks.’ She did not smile, and he struggled to understand her mood. She had not fled, like the nymphs from Pan, or grown angry and chased him to his doom like Diana, but she still seemed a distant vision, almost as if she was a dream in his waking mind. His jerkin was off, and the tunic came away far more easily. He sat on one of the wooden stools beside the wall to remove his boots and socks. Sulpicia Lepidina watched him, eyes unblinking. ‘I am grateful.’

‘Longinus did more,’ he said, emphasising the name.

‘Ah, Longinus.’ She gave the same weight to the word and smiled to show that she knew his secret. ‘He is a remarkable man. All of the Batavians would willingly die for him – even my husband, I think, and he is not usually a man to sacrifice for others. He tells me it is a great compliment that I was told. The clearest sign that the cohort accepted me.’ She sounded puzzled by this glimpse into a strange and foreign world. ‘But in truth he knew my family, and there are favours and friendship from long ago.’

Ferox thought once again how often that was true, and prominent people knew each other or found mutual friends even in the far corners of the empire. He also thought that his feet were the foulest things he had ever seen and felt even more ashamed and unimportant. She was like a statue come to golden life, even if her fair hair looked dark and slick from the water.

He stood up, still with his trousers on.

‘If you think you are bringing those filthy things in here then you are much mistaken, Flavius Ferox.’ The mockery was gentle, even if the tone was firm. ‘This is the best bath I have had since I arrived here, and since I cannot in decency visit a whorehouse I intend to make the most of it.’

‘Shall I go?’

She tilted her head slightly to one side. ‘Are you truly such a fool?’

He met her eyes, and began to undo his belt. ‘I think I am dreaming a hopeless dream,’ he said, ‘and fear that any wrong step will make me wake.’

‘I told you, this a night when laws and rules do not hold sway.’ She pushed herself back into the main pool and swam towards him. Her eyes looked bright and he could not tell whether it was fear or excitement.

With his clothes gone he rushed forward and dived in, sending water flying and making her shriek.

‘You are a barbarian, are you not,’ she said, as her fingers brushed water from her eyes. ‘But at least that should tell you that you are awake. The dream does not have to spoil.’

He came towards her, and it was difficult to swim because the pool was not really deep enough for him, but he did his best, toes now and then scraping the bottom. They floated, only a little apart.

‘I wish I had had a chance to shave,’ he said.

Lepidina frowned. ‘And I wish that tonight would last, that I was not who I am and could act as I wished.’ She reached out and ran her hand over his cheek, grimacing. ‘It is rough, and I am not one of those women who take pleasure in roughness and vulgarity, but it does not matter now. I think you love me.’

The change of subject shocked him as much as the directness, and he sought refuge in well-tried jokes. ‘I cannot help what you think.’

‘I also think you are a better man than you pretend to be,’ she began, ‘and I—’

‘This is not the time to talk,’ he said, interrupting, and he went forward, sliding his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. They floundered, heads dipping almost under the water, until they came up again and he kissed her. Her legs folded around him, gripping him tight, and they lost balance again, but it did not matter for they had each other and all that mattered was to hold each other close.

Later, Flora herself guided them to her most opulent room. It was Samhain, the lady was safe from harm and the laws and rules did not apply.

SULPICIA LEPIDINA LAY on one side, head on a cushion, watching him. ‘The sun has risen.’ Her voice was sad. ‘I guess that is no longer Samhain and the world will soon return to how it was.’

Strictly speaking the festival lasted until dusk, so it was still Samhain, but the daylight hours were a time for placating spirits set loose the night before and persuading them to return to the Otherworld and not haunt the realm of the living. There were more fires and more sacrifices and dances, but these were less of a celebration and the mood was always different, little better than that among the hundreds of hung-over Batavians who began the task of clearing up the debris of their own revels.

Ferox reached out to touch her hair. For a moment her smile grew warm, although there was something brittle about her in the pale light that came into the room through the cracks in the high, shuttered window.

‘I am glad to have a good memory,’ she said. ‘Its sweetness will carry me through the days to come.’ The lady took his hand and kissed his fingers.

‘I am glad that you are safe,’ he said. ‘Last night I was…’ He struggled to finish, but then she leaned forward and he pulled her to him. They kissed for a while, until more might have happened if she had not pulled away.

‘You are a good friend,’ she said. ‘Someone I can trust.’

‘I have been from the start,’ he said, wanting to believe her in spite of his instincts that told him no fine lady would bother with a mere centurion unless she needed him for some dark purpose. ‘If you just want a friend, you did not need all that business last night.’

She sat up, the covers slipping down so that she was naked to the waist. Her face was a mask except for the anger smouldering in her eyes.

‘What do you really want from me, lady? I am a nobody, and you have thrown yourself at me from the start.’

‘Bastard!’ she hissed the word. ‘I must be a fool to bother.’

‘As a matter of fact you are. I’m really not worth it.’

The slap caught him by surprise. The lady swung her arm and hit him across the face with enough force to sting. ‘Bastard!’ she said again, but now her eyes were glassy, and Ferox still did not know what to think.

There was a knock on the door before it opened and Flora appeared with the news that a carriage and escort was on the way to collect the lady. She hurried Ferox out, and he knew that there was nothing to be said even though he wished that there were. They left Sulpicia Lepidina to get dressed – her maid had appeared and must have spent the night in the place. From the next room Ferox heard Flora telling the soldiers that the prefect’s lady would be with them soon, and informing the decurion in charge that Flavius Ferox had stood guard all night outside the lady’s room, so that it was just moments ago that she had sent him off to sleep. The lie added to the sense of unreality, and it was already feeling like a dream save for the lingering taste of her lips and the smell of her hair.