Arviragus appeared from behind a bush, straightening his trousers. One of his guards stood by holding his armour. ‘Don’t be insolent, centurion. And remember that you are a prisoner.’ He glanced at the shepherd and then back at Ferox. ‘So what have you learned?’
‘We will need the boat,’ Ferox said, and began to explain. An hour and a half later he sat in the prow as the soldiers rowed. Crispinus was behind him, as well as Cocceius. ‘In case we need a good swimmer,’ he had told the boy, who had almost burst with pride to be chosen. They headed around the coast to the east. First there were cliffs, then another beach, before rounding a headland they came to the edge of the marsh. They went in closer, looking for streams to take them inland. After a while they found one and followed it until in ended in reeds too thick to push through. The second one got them a little further before the keel hit mud, and then one of the soldiers remembered seeing something that might give them a chance over on the far side. Another cloudburst came in, drenching them afresh, but they found the mouth of the stream and although it wound back and forth it was wide and deep enough for them to keep going. On either bank were reeds so high that they could not see out. Ferox struggled to judge how far they had gone in a straight line, but although it became narrow and they had to paddle rather than row, they were still moving, ever deeper inside.
‘We need to turn around,’ the senior soldier said. ‘Otherwise be dark before we get back to sea.’
‘Just a little more,’ Ferox said, and Crispinus nodded his approval. They turned another bend and the reeds were sparse ahead of them. Ferox took a spear and thrust down into the water. It was only a couple of feet deep, but the mud below was loose. He tried again and hit something far more solid.
‘Ready, lad?’ he asked Cocceius. The boy grinned. Both men stripped off their clothes. Neither had come in armour. Ferox went first, dropping over the side. The shock of the cold water was appalling, but his boots sank only a little into mud before they stopped. He reached up for the spear, and prodded down through the water in front of him. As he took his first step, Cocceius came into the water behind him.
They waded on, the Batavian close behind. After a few paces the water deepened again and reached their chests. Ferox could feel the flow plucking at his legs and running out the way they had come. Mud sucked at his feet each time he lifted one, and he leaned on his spear to pull himself out. Another step and the water was at his chin, but the spear prodded and it was shallower ahead. He warned Cocceius, who grinned again, and pushed ahead. Then he was climbing, for there was almost a bank under the reeds, and as he pulled himself up, slipped, breaking the reed he was holding, and recovered, he suddenly saw it. The lake was smooth as glass and dark as night, and beyond it was the low hill and the tree. The huts must have been on the far side of the hill because he could not see them. Still, this was surely where Acco claimed to have sacrificed the man who had once carried Ferox’s sword, and his instincts told him that this too was the most sacred place Prasto had searched for and never found. If they were to find what they were looking for then it would be here.
‘Can we swim it?’ he asked the young Batavian.
The lad gave another big grin. ‘In our sleep.’
‘We need to go,’ Crispinus called. ‘Now, centurion, before we lose the light. If you have found what we want we shall return tomorrow.’
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.
XXI
‘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.