Colleen McCullough - 5. Caesar

She had been the principal wife of Dumnorix in the days when he had skulked in the background hating his brother, chief vergobret of the Aedui. After the survivors of the attempted Helvetian migration had been returned to their alpine lands and Caesar had also dealt with King Ariovistus of the Suebic Germans, he had toured the lands of the Aedui to familiarize himself with the people, for their importance in his scheme of things had grown. They were Celtae, but Romanized, and were the most populous as well as the richest people in all of Further Gaul; the nobility spoke Latin, and they had earned the title Friend and Ally of the Roman People. They also provided Rome with cavalry. Caesar's original intention when he had galloped to Genava had been to put an end to the Helvetian migration and to Germanic incursions across the river Rhenus. As soon as it was done, he would commence his conquest of the river Danubius all the way from its sources to its outflow. But by the time that first campaign in Gaul of the Long-hairs was finished, his plans had changed. The Danubius could wait. First he would ensure Italia's safety on the west by pacifying the whole of Further Gaul, turning it into a completely loyal buffer between Our Sea and the Germans. It had been Ariovistus the German who worked this radical change; unless Rome conquered and fully Romanized all the tribes of Gaul, it would fall to the Germans. Then the next to go would be Italia. Dumnorix had plotted to replace his brother as the most influential man among the Aedui, but after the defeat of his Helvetian allies (he had cemented this alliance with a marriage) he retired to his own manor near Matisco to lick his wounds; it was here that Caesar found him as he returned to Italian Gaul to reorganize his thinking and his army. He had been welcomed by the steward, shown to a suite of rooms, left to himself until he wished to join Dumnorix in the reception room. But he had walked into Dumnorix's reception room at the worst possible moment, the moment in which a big woman, spitting curses, drew back her powerful white arm and punched Dumnorix on the jaw so hard Caesar heard his teeth rattle. Flat on the floor he went, while the woman, a fantastic cloud of red hair swirling about her like a general's cloak, began to kick him. He came up swinging, was knocked down a second time and kicked again, no force spared. Another equally large but younger woman erupted into the room; she fared no better dealing with Red Hair, who blocked her crosscut and landed an uppercut which sent the newcomer sprawling senseless. Enjoying himself hugely, Caesar leaned on the wall to watch. Dumnorix wriggled out of the reach of those deadly feet, got to one knee with murder in his eyes, and saw his visitor. "Don't mind me," said Caesar. But that signaled the end of the round, if not the bout. Red Hair planted a vicious kick on the inanimate body of her second victim, then retreated, magnificent breasts heaving, dark blue eyes flashing, to stand staring at the incongruous sight of a Roman in the purple-bordered toga of high estate. "I didn't expect you so soon!" panted Dumnorix. "So I gather. The lady boxes much better than the athletes at the games. However, if you like I'll go back to my rooms and let you contend with your domestic crisis in peace. If peace is the right word." "No, no!" Dumnorix straightened his shirt, picked up his shawl, and discovered that it had been wrenched off so violently that the brooch which held it on his left shoulder had torn the sleeve from its armhole. He glared at Red Hair and lifted one fist. "I'll kill you, woman!" She curled her top lip in contempt but said nothing. "May I adjudicate?" asked Caesar, removing himself from the wall and strolling to place himself in a strategic position between Dumnorix and Red Hair. "Thank you but no, Caesar. I've just divorced the she-wolf." "She-wolf. Romulus and Remus were fostered by a she-wolf. I suggest you put her in the field. She'd have no trouble beating the Germans." Her eyes had widened at the name; she strode forward until she was scant inches from Caesar and thrust her chin out. "I am a wronged wife!" she cried. "My people are no use to him now that they are defeated and returned to their own lands, so he has divorced me! For no reason except his own convenience! I am not unfaithful, I am not poor, I am not a serf! He has divorced me for no valid reason! I am a wronged wife!" "Is that the competition?" Caesar asked her, pointing at the girl on the floor. Up went the top lip again. "Pah!" she spat. "Do you have children by this woman, Dumnorix?" "No, she's barren!" cried Dumnorix, seizing on it. "I am not barren! What do you believe, that babies pop out of nothing on a Druid altar? Between the whores and the wine, Dumnorix, you're not man enough to quicken any of your wives!" Up came her fist. Dumnorix backed away. "Touch me, woman, and I'll cut your throat from ear to ear!" Out came his knife. "Now, now," said Caesar reprovingly. "Murder is murder, and better done somewhere else than in front of a proconsul of Rome. However, if you want to box on, I'm willing to act as judge. Equal weapons, Dumnorix. Unless the lady would like a knife?" "Yes!" she hissed. What might have been said or done then was not, for the girl on the floor began to moan; Dumnorix, clearly besotted with her, rushed to kneel by her side. Red Hair turned to watch, while Caesar watched her. Oh, she was something else again! Tall and strapping, yet slender and feminine; her waist, cinched with a golden belt, was tiny between large breasts and hips; and her legs, he thought, lent her most of that imposing height. But it was her hair enraptured him. It poured in rivers of fire over her shoulders and down her back to well below her knees, so thick and rich it had a life of its own. Most Gallic women had wonderful hair, but never so much or so brilliant as this woman's. "You're of the Helvetii," he said. She swung round to face him, seeming suddenly to see more than a purple-bordered toga. "You are Caesar?" she asked. "I am. But you haven't answered my question." "My father was King Orgetorix." "Ah, yes. He killed himself before the migration." "They forced him to it." "Does this mean you will return to your people?" "I cannot." "Why?" "I have been divorced. No one will have me." "Yes, that's worth a punch or two." "He wronged me! I have not deserved it!" Dumnorix had managed to get the girl to her feet, and stood with one arm about her waist. "Get out of my house!" he roared at Red Hair. "Not until you return my dowry!" "I've divorced you, I'm entitled to keep it!" "Oh, come, Dumnorix," said Caesar pleasantly. "You're a rich man, you don't need her dowry. The lady says she cannot return to her people; therefore the least you can do is enable her to live somewhere in comfort." He turned to Red Hair. "How much does he owe you?" he asked her. "Two hundred cows, two bulls, five hundred sheep, my bed and bedding, my table, my chair, my jewels, my horse, my servants and a thousand gold pieces," she recited. "Give her back her dowry, Dumnorix," said Caesar in a tone brooking no argument. "I'll escort her off your lands into the Province and settle her somewhere far from the Aedui." Dumnorix writhed. "Caesar, I couldn't put you to the trouble!" "No trouble, I assure you. It's on my way." And so it had been arranged. When Caesar departed from the lands of the Aedui he went accompanied by two hundred cows, two bulls, five hundred sheep, a wagon full of furniture and chests, a small crowd of slaves and Red Hair on her high-stepping Italian horse. What Caesar's own entourage thought of this circus they kept to themselves, thankful that for once the General wasn't sitting in a pitching gig, dictating to two of them at full gallop. Instead he rode beside the lady at a leisurely pace and talked to her all the way from Matisco to Arausio, where he supervised the purchase of a property large enough to graze two hundred cows, two bulls and five hundred sheep, and installed Red Hair and her team of servants in the commodious house upon it. "But I have no husband, no protector!" she said. "Rubbish!" said he, laughing. "This is the Province; it belongs to Rome. Do you think the whole district of Arausio isn't aware who settled you here? I'm the governor. No one will touch you. On the contrary, everyone will bend over backward to assist you. You'll be inundated with offers of help." "I belong to you." "That's what they'll think, certainly." She had done a great deal more fulminating during the journey than she had smiling, but now she smiled, her wide mouth showing all its splendid teeth. "And what do you think?" she asked. "I think I'd like to use your hair as a toga." "I'll comb it." "No," he said, climbing upon his road horse, which had normal hooves. "Wash it. That's why I made sure your house has a proper bathtub. Learn to use it every day. I'll see you in the spring, Rhiannon." She frowned. "Rhiannon? That's not my name, Caesar. You know my name." "Too many x's for linguistic pleasure. Rhiannon." "It means " "Wronged wife. Quite so." He kicked his horse and cantered away, but back he came in the spring, as he had promised. What Dumnorix thought when his wronged wife returned to the lands of the Aedui in Caesar's train he didn't say, but it rankled. Especially when it became a delicious joke among the Aedui; the Wronged Wife fell pregnant very quickly, and bore Caesar a son the following winter in her house near Arausio. Which didn't stop her traveling in the baggage train the next spring and summer. Wherever headquarters were established, there she and her baby made themselves at home and waited for Caesar. It was an arrangement which worked well; Caesar saw just enough of her to keep him fascinated, and she had taken his hint, kept herself and the baby so washed they shone.