‘I can only speak of my region, my lord, and the lands around it. There is discontent and worry. A rebellion is quite possible. Not inevitable though.’
‘Hmm. Not, inevitable. Inevitability is too big a question for my mind, and I shall leave such philosophy to idlers like Ovidius.’
‘The answer is perhaps,’ the old man said. ‘It nearly always is perhaps.’
‘As wise and unhelpful as ever,’ the legate said fondly. ‘What is certain is that the leading men in most of the tribes are heavily in debt. Oh, it is probably our fault as much as their own. Since Agricola’s day every legate has encouraged them to spend. Get Greek tutors for their children, fine clothes and jewellery, fashionable slaves and carriages for their wives, and to build, always to build. We praise them if they give themselves large houses in the towns or villas in the country. We praise them even more if they pay for temples, basilicas, statues and monuments in the towns, and when they give their fellow tribesmen festivals, races and gladiators. So they borrow to show off to us and each other, and deep down most borrowers believe that they will never have to pay back all that money. Something will turn up and the debt will simply go away.’
Ovidius grinned. ‘The voice of experience.’
‘The voice of a man who has seen the world. Tell me, Ferox, do you know much about the rebellion in the Rhineland at the start of Vespasian’s principate?’
‘Something, my lord. I have spent a fair bit of time with the Ninth Cohort at Vindolanda.’
‘Of course, my splendid Batavians. Then perhaps you know that its leaders began by telling everyone that they were supporters of Vespasian against the false emperor Vitellius. Perhaps they were sincere. It was only later, as their power grew, that there was talk of an empire of the Gauls. So it seems to me that a plot against Trajan and a rising of the tribes might not be altogether separate. The leaders of the first might well be happy to encourage the second. Rebellion in Britannia would embarrass the princeps, and if it got out of hand it might even finish him. As you have informed us so many, many times, the army in this province is weaker than it has ever been. For all the brilliance of my leadership, we might fail to crush the rebellion before it gathers pace. The princeps is focused on his plans for pacifying Dacia and its king. Could we cope with a crisis here as well as a grand campaign on the Danube?’
‘In the end,’ Ovidius said. ‘We’d win in the end.’
‘Yes, Rome is big and they are a lot smaller, although they may not realise it. The empire will always win in the end, but at what cost?
‘As I said, Ferox, that is why I summoned you, and not simply because you Silures revel in silence, making you the perfect audience for my thoughts. However, since then events have galloped away with us and added to the tasks I wish you to perform. May I assume friend Ovidius has told you the news about Caratacus?’ Ferox nodded. ‘Nasty business, thoroughly nasty. I did not know him at all well, but he impressed me by his dignity. His grandson died fighting for us on the Danube. You knew him, did you not?’ Another nod. ‘Such is fate. But the deliberate killing of an ancient hostage has a viciousness about it that screams out politics. Since he could have no significance at Rome, I would guess his enemies were sent from Britannia. Why after so many years?’
Ferox said nothing.
‘That is one question. And then on the Ides of October someone breaks into the Temple of the Divine Vespasian here in Londinium, bludgeoning the watchman to death. By sheer chance a couple of my beneficiarii came to make a vow – in the middle of the night they assure me, and for the moment I will choose to believe them. They saw three hooded figures climbing over the rear wall of the temple precinct and gave chase. The robbers escaped, but they dropped a box. That one over there, in fact. Open it for me, if you will, and show us what is inside.’
Ferox did what he was told. The long iron key was in the lock and turned easily. He raised the lid and saw dark cloth folded. The box was little more than a foot square, but heavily bound with iron edges so that it must have been heavy. He lifted the cloth out, and as he stood up realised that it was a cloak, fringed at the bottom in faded gold. The rest was more dark brown than the bright purple it had surely once been.
‘The key was provided for me by the head priest,’ the governor explained. ‘He tells me that this is the cloak they place around the statue of the divine Claudius when he and the other deified emperors accompany the statues of Vespasian and Titus to the opening of the games. All of the statues have cloaks, and this is the least fine, though perhaps the oldest of them.’
‘Ferox knew about the theft of Caratacus’ torc before I told him,’ Ovidius says.
The legate raised an eyebrow quizzically.
‘A guess, my lord, but the answer did not surprise me.’ Ferox told them about the thefts in the north, and about Acco. ‘It was the torc worn by the kings of the Catuvellauni for generations, even before it belonged to such a famous war leader. If Acco seeks objects of power from among the tribes, that would be a great prize.’
‘That villain still up to his tricks, is he? And with a long arm to reach out to Italy. That is worrying, since it would be likely he has influential friends. Still, shouldn’t think he cared one way or another who was emperor.’
‘No, my lord, but he might well try to use people who did.’
Neratius Marcellus stopped mid-pace and spun around to stare intently at the centurion. ‘You really think he is that smart?’
‘I know he is, my lord.’ Ferox did his best to explain to them about a man’s power, and how not only what he did and who he was fed it or weakened it, but also the people and things around him. A man’s spirit grew as he took objects touched by the past and perhaps by the gods. At the same time the things themselves became more potent because of the one who possessed them.
‘Are we talking magic?’ Ovidius asked, genuinely curious.
‘Only in a sense,’ Ferox said. He knew these men were intelligent, more sympathetic than many Romans, and trying hard, but there were simply not the right words in their tongue, or even in Greek – at least all the Greek Ferox was able to remember. Romans did not think this way. ‘Acco is known as the last of the true druids and he is feared accordingly. Gathering these things will add a little to his reputation, but I suspect there is more than that. Druids – and many who would claim to be druids – always wanted to possess things of power. There is more to it than this. Why these things and why now unless he has some definite purpose?’
‘Why indeed? And I take it you have no idea of the answer.’ Ferox shook his head. ‘Ah well.’ The governor reached up and stretched like someone waking from sleep. ‘Then it seems we shall all be very busy. You and this old fool will begin by searching the archives here. Find anything we have about the objects they have taken or tried to take.’ He reached out for the cloak and stared at it as if it might reveal a secret. ‘Perhaps there is a connection.’ He must have seen the look on Ferox’s face. ‘And, yes, I realise that perhaps the records of past governors will have little interest or understanding of such matters, but you never know. Perhaps there is something, or even a clue to spark an idea. At the very least we must start with what we have in case there is something there. I also want you to find out all you can at the temple. And you are both dining here this evening.’