'How does she feel about him?'
'Oh, she'll accept, of course.'
'Really? Why?'
'It's not every day that a girl gets offered the hand of the next ruler of the Iceni.'
Cato nodded slowly. Boudica would not be the first woman he had met who placed social advancement before emotional fulfilment. Cato decided he would not tell his centurion about this. If Boudica was going to ditch Macro and marry someone else, then she could tell Macro herself. 'A shame. She deserves better.'
'Of course she does. That's why she's messing around with your centurion. Might as well have as much fun as she can, while she can. I doubt Prasutagus will give her much of a free rein once they're married.'
A sudden crash sounded from behind them. Cato and Nessa turned and saw that the door to the alehouse had been kicked open. Squeezing through it was one of the largest men Cato had ever seen. As the man straightened up, rather awkwardly, his head met the thatch. Swearing angrily in his native tongue, he ducked and moved forward to where he could stand erect and have a good look round at the customers. He was well over six feet tall, and broad to match. The bulging muscles under the hairy skin of his forearms made Cato gulp as with a sick sense of inevitability he guessed who the new arrival was.
Chapter Three
'Oh dear!' Nessa winced. 'Now we're for it.'
As Prasutagus glared round at the drinkers, they fell silent, and tried not to meet his eyes while carefully keeping him in clear view. Cato looked beyond the Iceni giant. In the nook by the door, Boudica and Macro were out of the new arrival's line of sight, and Boudica quickly indicated to Macro that he should get under the bench. He shook his head. She jabbed her finger down insistently, but there was no swaying the centurion. He swung his leg over the bench, ready to confront the new arrival. Boudica quickly drained her mug and dived under the bench herself, pressing into the wall furthest from Prasutagus. In doing so she jolted the table and her mug tipped off the edge and shattered on the stone floor.
Prasutagus whipped out a dagger from beneath his cloak and spun round, ready to pounce on any foe sneaking up behind him. He weighed up Macro's stocky physique as the centurion rose to his feet, and then the Iceni warrior roared with laughter.
'What you laughing at?' Macro snarled.
Nessa squeezed Cato's arm and gasped. 'Your friend's a fool!'
'No,' Cato whispered. 'It's your kinsman who's in danger. He's had a skinful and he's pissed Macro off. He'd better watch it.'
Prasutagus patted the centurion heavily on the shoulder and said something conciliatory in his native tongue. The knife disappeared back into his cloak.
'Hands off!' growled Macro. 'You may be a big bastard, but I've taken down harder men than you.'
The warrior ignored him and turned towards the other customers, resuming his search for his wayward female relatives. Nessa had risen to her feet to better view the confrontation and was too slow ducking down out of sight again.
'Ahhh!' roared the giant and he ploughed forward, roughly pushing aside anyone in his path. 'Nessa!'
Before he could consider the wisdom of his action, Cato moved to place himself between them, hand raised to stop the approaching warrior.
'Leave her alone!' His voice quavered as the stupidity of his action sank in.
Prasutagus swatted him to one side, grabbed Nessa by the shoulders and, true to her description of the man, began to bellow at her. Cato picked himself up from the floor and threw himself at the Briton. Prasutagus barely shifted. A moment later a heavy hand slapped the side of Cato's head and his world flashed white before he dropped like a stone, out cold.
By the door, Macro roused himself. 'That was way out of order, sunshine!' He thrust his way through the crowd towards the fireplace. Behind him, Boudica struggled out from under the bench.
'Macro! Stop! He'll kill you.'
'Let the bastard try.'
'Stop! I beg you!' She flew after him, making a grab for his shoulders.
'Let go of me, woman!'
'Macro, please!'
Prasutagus became aware of the commotion behind him and paused in his rough handling of Nessa to spare a glance over his shoulder. At once, he thrust Nessa to one side and swivelled his great frame round, bellowing out a torrent of words in a mixture of relief and rage. Macro stopped a little short of the giant, looking around for anything he could use as a weapon to even up the odds. He seized a crutch lying on the ground beside an unconscious tribesman and held it like a cross-staff. But before he could make a move on Prasutagus, a crashing blow to the back of his head laid him out – Boudica had felled him with a pottery jug. Stunned and dizzy, Macro struggled to his hands and knees.
'Stay down!' hissed Boudica. 'Stay down and keep quiet if you know what's good for you.'
She advanced on her cousin, eyes blazing and mouth clenched in outrage. Prasutagus continued shouting and waving his great arms about. Boudica drew up in front of him and slapped him across the face, again and again, until his tongue stilled and his arms hung limp.
'Na, Boudica!' he protested. 'Na!'
She slapped him once more, and pointed a finger in his face, daring him to say another word. His eyes burned and he clenched his teeth, but he uttered not a sound. The other drinkers watched in fascinated silence for the next development in the confrontation between the hulking great warrior and the tall haughty woman who defied him so openly. At length Boudica lowered her finger. Prasutagus nodded, and spoke quietly to her, with the barest nod towards the doorway. Boudica called to Nessa and then led the way out into the street. Pausing a moment, Prasutagus glowered round at the customers, daring anyone to laugh at him. Then, kicking the prostrate optio to one side, he stormed out of the alehouse, hurrying after his charges before they could run off again.
Every drinker in the establishment watched the open doorway for any sign of the warrior's return. As conversation quietly resumed, the old Gaul nodded to his hired muscle and the man wandered over to the door and closed it. Then he casually worked his way over to Macro.
'You all right, mate?'
'Been better.' Macro rubbed his head and winced. 'Shit! That hurts.'
'Not surprised. That's quite a woman.'
'Oh yes!'
'Saved your bacon though. You and the lad there.'
'Cato!' Macro hurried over to his optio, who was propped on an elbow and shaking his head. 'You still with us?'
'I'm not sure, sir. Feels like a house fell on me.'
'Not far off!' chuckled the hired muscle. 'That Prasutagus can get pretty heavy-handed.'
Cato looked up. 'Oh really?'
The Gaul dragged Cato to his feet and brushed the straw from his tunic. 'Now if you two gentlemen wouldn't mind, I'd like you both to leave the premises right away.'
'Why?' asked Macro.
'Because I fucking say so,' replied the hired muscle, with a smile. Then he relented a little. 'You just don't mess with a high-ranking Iceni warrior. Especially a drunk one. I'd hate to think what will happen to my master's business if Prasutagus comes back with a few friends and finds you two still here.'
'Do you think he will?' asked Cato, eyeing the door nervously.
'Just as soon as he works out some kind of connection between his lady friends and you two. So best be off, eh?'
'Fair enough. Come on, Cato. Let's find somewhere else to drink.'
Tugging their cloaks tightly about their shoulders, Macro and Cato ducked under the lintel into the street. The shaft of orange light slanting across the snow in the alley was abruptly cut off as the door was firmly closed behind them. There was no sign of Prasutagus and the two women, save for the disturbed tracks in the snow leading up the alley.