Адриан Голдсуорти - Brigantia

Ferox sighed, for he had known all along what would happen. For the Romans tomorrow was merely the last day of October. Yet here, and among all the tribes, it was Samhain, the night when the gates to the Otherworld opened and the dead walked abroad. Nowhere on Mona would be a good place to be when the sun set tomorrow, but who knew what horrors would come here, where once a sacred and very secret grove had stood and bloody sacrifices taken place.

‘WE SHALL NEED another boat,’ the tribune decided, and the prince readily agreed, but the wind had picked up as they had battled their way against the tide, and the senior soldier refused to try going to Segontium during the hours of darkness.

‘Not in this weather, sir, begging your pardon.’

Ferox sensed Arviragus was itching to send them anyway, but for once the tribune stood up to his ‘captor’ and talked him round. The storm that blew in an hour later proved that this was the right decision, and the wind did not drop until the third hour of the day. Ferox sensed the inevitability of it all, since this meant at least a couple of hours before they returned with the second boat, and hopefully with a small punt he had requested. By the time the rowers had taken a little rest and parties been organised, the afternoon was well advanced. If they got there in daylight they would be lucky, and he knew they would not get back.

At least the delay gave him a chance to have a quiet word with Vindex and Gannascus, for it was no surprise that none of his men were to accompany him. Only Brigantian guards would go, apart from Crispinus, young Cocceius and the soldiers needed to row the boats, although half of these were replaced by the prince’s men. As they were getting ready to leave, Claudia Enica appeared, swathed in her heavy cloak, and strode towards the boats. The bodyguard looked questioningly at Arviragus, who just nodded and then held out his hand to his sister

‘As you wish, my lord.’

Enica did not acknowledge him in any way. Neither did she even glance at her brother, but instead waded to where Ferox sat in the other boat and reached out her hand. He took it, and helped her aboard. She was barefoot, and as her cloak parted he saw that she was wearing a tunic much like the one she had worn to fight. Cocceius stared wide-eyed at her legs as they came over the side. Once she was in, she took her boots from where they had been tied round her neck and pulled them on.

‘Thank you,’ she said. They were the only words she spoke during the journey, and the rest of the time she stared fixedly out to sea, watching the gulls as they swooped and dived. Ferox found her uncharacteristic stillness and silence vaguely unnerving. Cocceius spent the trip in smiling worship, perhaps helped along by memories of their first encounter back at Vindolanda.

There was much more of a swell today, and before long all the Brigantes were suffering, faces deathly pale or touched with green, so that the soldiers cursed them whenever they missed a stroke. Arviragus sat next to Crispinus in the other boat, and although he did his best to look unconcerned, his hand gripped the side of the boat tightly. Cocceius grinned as he so often did, at least whenever he could prise his eyes away from the lady, for now and then the wind parted her cloak and showed off her legs. Then his gaze reminded Ferox of the squirrel. The lady paid no heed to anyone, and showed no sign of any sickness.

Ferox’s boat led the way upstream, towing the punt. As they went between the reeds, they entered a world of shadows, for the later afternoon sun was already low in the sky. They went quicker across the smooth water, winding round a path they knew. Ferox had made sure that his was the same boat with the same steersman and some of the rowers who had made the journey yesterday. At times the second craft struggled to follow.

The light lasted, if barely, and they reached the thin line of reeds between the stream and the lake. Ferox and Cocceius stripped again, the boy self conscious and blushing this time because the lady was there. She ignored them. The two men waded back to the punt and unfastened it. With some effort, and the help of two Brigantes who had joined them in the water, they managed to drag it up and through the reeds onto the lake.

Claudia Enica pulled off her boots and then stood up, still paying no attention to the men around her. She unfastened her cloak and dropped it, undid her belt with its weapons and then pulled the tunic off over her head. Cocceius gasped, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Underneath she wore a wide calfskin breast band and two soft leather triangles tied together with thongs around her hips. Ferox had seen outfits like this on the beach at Baiae, and sometimes even in the baths, but they appeared a revelation to the young Batavian, although it was hard to tell whether or not he was disappointed or thrilled that she was not quite naked. He blushed a violent red and crouched, then turned and dived into the lake. Ferox laughed and did the same.

‘You should cross with us, lady,’ Crispinus called.

‘Or wait for the second trip,’ her brother suggested.

Enica’s only answer was to hand the bundle she had made by wrapping her things up in her cloak to one of the guards. ‘Have them take this across for me.’

The punt was long enough for five, but one needed to take it back again for the next party, so it would carry the tribune, the prince and two of his guards across on the first trip. With some reluctance Ferox let them take his sword, belt and boots as well. Cocceius had brought an old shield, and they piled their clothes and a dry blanket on top. The lad exaggeratedly showed the hilt of the pugio he had slipped in at Ferox’s request. Thankfully the two Brigantes were too busy watching Enica as she climbed over the bank and then dived gracefully into the water. Without waiting for the others, she swam straight out towards the hill ahead of them.

‘Come on, boy,’ Ferox said and they followed.

They were halfway across the lake before the punt set out, although it had nearly caught them up by the time they reached the far shore. Enica was first, striding up from the waves like Venus. The gracefulness of her movements truly was remarkable, and Ferox felt like some ungainly aquatic monster as he waded ashore. Cocceius was beside him; he rather felt the boy had been polite and kept to his pace, for the Batavians tended to be superb swimmers. They used the blanket to dry themselves a little and then started to dress.

‘Don’t on my account,’ the lady told them. Cocceius’ blush spread again, almost as pink as the clouds around the setting sun. Ferox shaded his eyes against its light. Night was coming. He shivered.

Arviragus bounded off the punt and came rushing up the slope. Crispinus trailed behind with the two guards, one carrying the lady’s bundle.

‘So, where now, centurion?’ The prince was brimming with enthusiasm.

He pointed to the tree. ‘Up there, then the huts on the far side,’ he said, even though he had no real idea what to expect. My lord, has one of your men brought my sword and boots?’

The prince did not bother to ask. ‘Sorry, Ferox. Got left on the boat. They’ll bring it with the next trip.’ The punt was already a fair way out from the shore.

Ferox led them to the tree. Close up, he was no longer sure that this was a hill, for it had an even look, like one of the mounds left by the forgotten people, the users of flint and the makers of the stone circles.

‘I see a yew tree,’ the prince said. ‘I am assuming there must be more.’

They could see the huts now and walked down to them. Enica caught up, dressed again in tunic and boots and with her gladius and curved sica at her belt. The huts were strange, even the roofs made from stone, reminding Ferox of the houses built by the folk in the far north of Caledonia. Perhaps that was no surprise, since by sea Mona was not so very far away. It was often said that the people who lived there were more akin to the northerners and the Hibernians than they were to their neighbours the Ordovices.