As Cursor rode into the settlement, a large contingent of locals stood waiting for him. Their leader stepped forward and bowed deeply. He was an older man, clean shaven with close cropped hair. “Hail, emissary of Rome!” he said. “I am King Eisu, and I welcome you to our lands.”
Cursor dismounted his horse and gave a short nod of respect to the man before removing his helmet. “It is good to see we have friends this deep into Britannia,” he observed.
Cursor noticed that both the king and his nobles dressed in a manner very similar to Roman senators, albeit their togas were earthier in color, rather than the white and purple seen in Rome. He conjectured that perhaps the Dobunni had purchased the very fabric their garments were made of from Roman traders. He was further surprised at the man’s ability with the Roman tongue and glad that he would not require an interpreter.
“Given our proximity to the sea, we have been able to enjoy trade relations with Rome since the time of Caesar,” the king replied. “But come, a great feast awaits you!”
The troopers of Indus’ Horse made camp just outside the town, while Cursor and the senior officers joined King Eisu and his nobles in a great hall that was surprisingly decorated with Roman columns, with familiar frescos adorning the walls.
“You have, indeed, enjoyed much in the way of trade relations with Rome,” Cursor observed as he marveled at the décor within the hall.
A long table was laid out with a variety of delicacies, both Britannic and Roman.
“It is because of this that we have been ostracized by many of our neighbors,” Eisu observed as he took his place in the great oaken chair at the head of the table. “When we refused to join the Durotriges confederation in their battle against you, King Donan swore he would exterminate my people in retribution. I am glad to see that he can no longer try and make good on his promise.”
“We have fought them many times before,” a noble spoke up. “They lust after our iron mines; the ore from which we have long traded with your provinces in Gaul and Hispania. But with his alliance with the Catuvellauni, Donan could very well have overwhelmed us had he defeated Rome.”
“I am happy to tell you that the Durotriges are no longer a concern,” Cursor said.
“We heard Mai Dun had fallen,” the noble stated, to which the tribune nodded in reply.
“King Donan is dead,” Cursor continued, “and those who fought beside him are being sold into slavery, along with their families. Those who remain understand their fate, should they resist the will of Rome.”
“And what of our neighbors to the north?” King Eisu asked. “They are extremely warlike, and their lands consist of arduous mountain ranges.”
“Those who fought with the Catuvellauni, we gave them a taste of Roman steel,” Cursor asserted. “But I agree, they will be a thorn in our side for a long time to come. For now, we will look into establishing garrisons here and in your capitol. Most likely we will eventually have to post a legion on the border of the Silures lands until they can be conquered.” The tribune then produced a scroll, which he handed to the king. “These are the terms the emperor is offering to all kingdoms within these lands who embrace the friendship of Rome. You will retain your status as ruler of your people, albeit as a client king under Caesar. A Roman magistrate will be assigned to act as the emperor’s intermediary and to enforce tax collection.”
The king, who was literate and fluent in Latin, read through the terms slowly, his expression unconcerned. “It says here that client kings are allowed to maintain their own armies and are not required to garrison Roman soldiers,” he noted. “However, I am surmising, given our proximity to the Silures, an exception will be made here.”
Cursor nodded in reply.
“The taxation levels may seem high,” the tribune said, “but know that this is to help pay for the infrastructure that comes from becoming part of a Roman province. “Roads, schools, markets, sanitation, and baths are costly to build and maintain. Increase your efforts within the iron mines, and I promise you will enjoy some of the greatest prosperity in the region.”
“You speak of baths,” the king replied, seeming to ignore Cursor’s explanations, though it could be concluded that he was already well aware of what would be expected of him and his people. “I think it is time I show you the heart of the valley.”
Since the defeat of the Catuvellauni and their allies, eleven tribal kingdoms had submitted to Roman rule without so much as drawing a single weapon in resistance. Granted, some of these were little more than a lone oppida with perhaps a hundred acres of total land. However, Plautius was glad to spare bloodshed as much as he was able. The word of Vespasian’s savage trek through Durotriges, culminating with the bloody siege at Mai Dun, was spreading quickly throughout the land. And yet, not every tribal kingdom required abject fear to bring them to bear. The Brigantes were amongst the larger kingdoms, and they had thus far remained neutral throughout the conflict. That was about to change.
“Noble Plautius,” an equite tribune announced, “I present Queen Cartimandua of the Brigantes.”
Plautius stood and gave a short nod of respect. Cartimandua did the same. Her demeanor was pleasant enough, though Plautius noted the signs of strain in her face. She was alone, her entourage being directed into another large tent, where they would be entertained by the legate’s officers and staff. For now, he wanted his meeting with the queen in private.
“Thank you for receiving me,” the queen said, her voice showing only the slightest traces of a foreign accent.
Plautius knew she was well-educated, the rumor being that her father had even gone as far as hiring a Roman tutor when she was very young.
“Please, the honor is mine,” Plautius replied, motioning for her to be seated. The only other persons present were servants who brought the two wines and what delicacies the Romans had been able to acquire since arriving in Britannia.
“I am aware of the terms you’ve made with the other tribal kingdoms,” Cartimandua said. “I want you to know that I accept them without hesitation.”
“Very well,” Plautius replied. “That will keep our meeting short, then. Know that we have been anxious to meet you for some time, as Brigantes has intrigued us. We have had one of your royal guardsmen acting as a guide and interpreter for us these last couple months.”
“Alaric,” the queen noted. “I will be glad to have him back in my employ.”
“Of course,” the governor nodded. “I understand he means a lot to you.”
“All my people are important to me,” Cartimandua emphasized. “You must also know that my kingdom is anything but stable. My own consort conspires with our enemies, so while some of the kingdoms have requested to maintain their own security, I am asking you to garrison Roman soldiers within Brigantes.”
“It will be done,” Plautius assured her. “Rome values her friends and I assure you that the legions will never be far away should enemies threaten you, both from hostile neighbors as well as any who may lurk within your kingdom.”
The queen was at first startled to think that Plautius was speaking of her husband, Venutius, but then she realized that he likely had been building quite the network of informants within the province. The Romans understood that knowledge was the most powerful weapon there was, and doubtless they knew about the inner turmoil that existed between Cartimandua and her consort. This actually came as a relief to her, and she would make certain that Venutius understood as well that while he may have commanded the loyalty of a large number of Brigantes warriors, the queen was now under the direct protection of the legions. The defeat of Togodumnus, along with the rapid fall of Mai Dun, would ensure that whatever his feelings towards the occupiers, Venutius would keep his hostile tongue in check.