Merwyn 410AD, Part Three by Barry Boxer

MERWYN 410AD; PART THREE

POST-ROMAN BRITTAIN, WHAT HAPPENED?

CHAPTER ELEVEN Merwyn and Vychan stood at the lodging house gates and waved to the retreating figures of Prystyn and Oanez, the former sitting next to and already in conversation with the hired wagon driver, the latter walking with wistful backward glances at the young men. Merwyn cuffed his friends shoulder to attract his attention, "Come on, moon struck lover, time for us to load up and make miles along this road, or have you changed your mind?" Vychan took his time in replying, "No, I don't think I want to go with them, but Oanez will be a very hard act to follow!" "So we heard, on numerous occasions, both nights." "What! Oh, sorry; it's just that she raised the most fantastic passions in me, and I hope, I in her." "Do you have the energy left to put our packs onto these ponies, or shall I fetch a seat for you to rest your weary loins on?" With a final glance at the direction his recent, first, lover had disappeared, Vychan set to loading the boys travelling posessions onto the wooden frame secured to the smaller animal, while Merwyn draped a riding cloth over the larger creature that the young men would ride in turn. Merwyn finished his task and turned to help Vychan with the final items, leaving the walking guard poles for each to carry.

"I know you've had more exciting matters to fill your mind with, Vychan, but would did you make of the burned out farm we found these horses abandoned at? Who would leave such good livestock behind in a gutted ruin?" Vychan looked over the animal's back and grinned sheepishly at his companion, "I wasn't to know, then, that Oanez was going to be quite so thankful for the help we gave to her and Prystyn! Yes, it was distinctly odd to find two fine ponies, one bearing legion marks, tethered to one side of a coral of slaughtered, and butchered, sheep and goats. Whoever torched the buildings and culled the animals must have decided to spare these beauties, who will now make our journey much more comfortable." "Indeed they will, but why were they there, and where do they come from?" Vychan shrugged his shoulders and mounted the bigger creature, "Lots of questions, but precious few answers. Have you settled up the bill for last night? If so, you can walk the first stage, whilst I pine away, sitting up here." "Yes, Prystyn and I came to an arrangement, he changed a good half of our dud coins for proper money; he said that an official can get rid of forgeries more easily than a citizen! I will miss talking with Oanez' father, he knew so much about what has, and might, happen."

Vychan tied the little ponies lead rope to his left leg as the party left Lactodurum on the road southwards towards Durocobrius. "And I will miss Oanez, and not just for the sexual pleasure," he spoke to Merwyn who was to his right side," she was such fun; witty, confident and full of chatter! Ach, well, what did Prystyn enlighten you about?"

"That the legions will not return, ever. That the Empire will collapse, removing all central control. That wars and rumours of them will be our lot for the next few dozen years. That..." "All happy and joyous news, eh? Oanez said that Prystyn could be a miserable old sod, if he choose so!" Merwyn did not reply, but jogged ahead in silence until he was almost out of Vychan's sight, before halting for his friend to catch up. "Feel better for a brisk walk? Did it help to clear..." "Listen, Vychan! Try and drag your thoughts away from your groin and it's activities! Do you remember why we set out on this journey in the first bloody place?" "Of course I do. To find out what has happened to the legions, whether any invaders are living in the Great Forest, and take the news back to Haltum, and then Deva. Right?"

"Correct! And what have we learned in answer to those questions? I'll tell you, it's quicker! As good as nothing; at least no reliable information, anyway. We've been travelling for nearly two weeks, done 130 odd miles of our passage to Londinium, and nobody knows anything! That can't be right, we're missing something very obvious!" The young men were silent until they reached the second mile post, where Vychan took over the walking, allowing Merwyn to sit on the horse. They both drank deeply from one of the water skins, before Vychan replaced it on the pack pony. "Merwyn. Perhaps we are not being stupid or deceived? Perhaps there is no answer to our search, because nobody knows what the news is? Oanez told me that the residents of Lindum have reached such a pit of despair, waiting for a seaborne attack, that it is bound to succeed if it does happen..." "Why did Prystyn not tell me that, assuming that it is true in the first place?" mused Merwyn from the saddle. "Maybe he just wanted to enjoy serious conversation whilst persuading us to help him and Oanez along in their travels? Possibly, he feared that we would abandon them and rush back to Haltum? Conceivably, everything Prystyn told you was to manipulate us into, literally, carrying them nearer to Corinium, or wherever they are really hoping to reach?" 5

The lads went quiet for some minutes, reflecting. Eventually Merwyn broke into the silence, "Vychan, are you wondering about Oanez' motivations for seducing you?" Vychan delayed his response, until he looked up at Merwyn, with tears in his eyes, "Surely, no woman would use her body for such a cheap, vulgar and mercenary reasons? It all seemed like true affection, real desire; maybe not love, I suppose..." Merwyn slid off the mount to walk alongside his friend as they both mulled over the events of the last three days. They strode out until the seventh mile post when they halted and allowed the horses to drink from a roadside trough. "Merwyn. I, we, have been taken for a right pair of country bumpkins and conned something wicked and viciously. We shall have to be much more careful and less trusting with those folk we meet, especially anyone who comes onto us quite as obviously as Prystyn and Oanez did!" "I agree. But, if there is a next time, I get the attentions of the female. There might never be another opportunity for me." ------------------------------

For the fourth consecutive evening, the three surviving hostages were escorted from their pen and brought into the presence of Vanuesa, the female leader of the raiders. Each time they were made to walk past the burned but skinned skull of Talaith, that had been mounted on a pole by the fire-site. On this occasion, Heodesa accompanied the trio, much to the amusement of the assembled mass who tried, unsuccessfully, to catch the cat, provoking it into spasms of spitting rage. On the second morning after the execution of Talaith, Prydywn had been allowed to bathe in the stream after his visit to the communal midden. On his return, the female guards beckoned Zethar and Sulwen to follow them for their turn in the waters. Zethar had grabbed the cat and carried it into the beck, hoping to drown it and force the animus within to seek refuge elsewhere, away from her responsibility. Except that Heodesa managed to escape from the old woman's grasp under the water and swim and leap to the bank, where it shook itself dry whilst avoiding the hysterical observers. Zethar had been expecting Vanuesa to question her about the episode, and was fearful of the consequence of giving a false answer. With the three humans and one feline sitting on the usual bench, the guards stood back as their leader approached with her council of advisers; the two men who had despatched Talaith to the after-world. "It is perhaps too late in the day for First Blessings? But too early for Nocturnal Serenity? Whatever, Sulwen we wish to learn more about this peculiar land that we find ourselves stranded in. Enquire of your colleagues, why are there no Roman soldiers to be seen? Where are they quartered? What arms do they utilise?" 7

Prydwyn let out a snorted breath as he turned to the two women, "I wondered when she would get down to the real nitty-gritty after all those pointless questions about crops, livestock, horses, cooking utensils and so on. What do we say? That there are no troops left, at least in the areas we know about?" "That will only encourage them to attack one of the settlements, or towns, in the knowledge of no defences or retribution, " suggested Zethar, "and they are obviously quite capable of violence..." "But, " interrupted Sulwen, "they must already know that there are no legions or cavalry. If we pretend that there are, I'll end up as a second skull next to Talaith! No, I think we have to be honest with Vanuesa and her henchmen." Sulwen replied to Vanuesa that the Roman military had been withdrawn back to Gaul three years before, and that their return was eagerly awaited. One of the two men reached inside his jerkin and removed a leather satchel whose contents jingled before they were poured onto the grass. They were gold coins and some finely worked black stoned jewellery. Vanuesa picked up a coin and tossed it to Prydwyn as she spoke with Sulwen, "Is that Roman, what value and why would it be buried in the muddy ground?" Prydwyn looked at the item, tested it's purity by biting and tried to interpret the markings cast into the surface, before handing the coin to Zethar who repeated the examination. 8

"Well, tell me," said Sulwen, "I've never seen any monies like these, but I know that the stone is called Jet; very nice!" "The gold is currency of some sort, but nothing I've ever encountered," said Prydwyn, "and the striking s on the face are not in Latin..." "I have held such items before," interrupted Zethar, "but not since I was a very young child! They formed part of an elaborate and beautiful costume worn by the High Priestess of a pagan worshipping circle; one of the old style beliefs that had survived from before the Roman's invaded our lands. But I know, or knew I suppose, that all the artefacts were secretly hidden within..." Zethar hesitated, "well, their exact location is not that important. What is relevant is how the Suevi came by them?" "So," demanded Sulwen, "what do I tell Vanuesa?" "Say that it from a people who inhabited this land before the Roman's defeated us, that it's value is beyond estimation; and that somebody hid it, probably intending to retrieve the stash at a later time." Sulwen relayed the answer, and engaged in a rapid exchange of dialogue with Vanuesa and her two advisers, before translating for her colleagues. "They want to know more about the old faiths, and why the priestess would surrender her garments rather then die, in a battle, wearing them?"

"She did lead the final charge, and was dis-robed by her followers who carried her remains from the field of conflict. Whatever, we can embellish that saga later. Where did this lot find such a hoard of treas..." Zethar stopped, thought for a moment then laughed out loud, earning a furious glare from the guards behind them. "Sulwen, tell me again about what happened when the pestilence came upon Deva?" "The rich and influential ran off to the countryside, with as much wealth as their slaves could carry." replied the young woman "So either the Suevi have raided Deva, or they've ransacked one of the so called leaders country homes." concluded Zethar. "If the Suevi have been into Deva, why come back here; they must have found out that the city is defenceless and was theirs for the taking? No, the second idea seems most likely to me," said Prydwyn. "Indeed," said Zethar, "but if we tell them that such a trove was only abandoned within the last few months, it doesn't need much nous to work out that the last owner ran away from somewhere important, for whatever reason. And they'll know where it was found, and can easily decide which big town it was, and that it may well be weakened by desertions or deaths and worth a proper look at?" Sulwen turned to address Vanuesa, "I'm just going to tell the truth, as we know it, no double guessing. I quite like my head and body to remain in one piece, let others worry about the future."

"For what it might be worth," mumbled a suddenly flushed Prydwyn, "I quite like your head and body as well; Sulwen that is, sorry Zethar, no insult intended to you..." "None implied or assumed!" snorted the old woman, reaching for the somnolent Heodesa, "she's a fine girl; don't you do anything to harm her, or you'll answer to us two!" -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Seren and Rozenn had been left to mind a gaggle of screeching children as Lowenek, Ysbail, Ederna and Brluen went into the Great Forest to gather herbs; escorted by their respective husbands, All under the intense gaze of Fychan and Lug in the watch-tower. The young women soon had the restless offspring competing in running, crawling, jumping and hopping races across the grassed forum. Having temporarily exhausted their charges, they sat the nine children in the shade of the libationers, where Rozenn told a story of magic and mystery that she had learned from Ysbail. Dilwyn, who also knew the fable by heart, was the first to fall asleep, rapidly followed by the remainder. Seren tiptoed to sit beside Rozenn, and they shared a whispered conversation for what would be an all too brief brief interlude. "I enjoyed your tale, quite different from our Haltum saga's. My mother will like to hear that, perhaps one evening, when the children are a'bed." "I would have thought that Brluen would simply collapse into a heap after caring for her six in the day; I tired after just half a morning!" 11

"I will never have such a large brood, whatever my husband wants?" snorted Seren, clapping her hand to her mouth. Rozenn frowned, "But wouldn't that mean not lying with him, to avoid falling pregnant?" "Yes, but there are other ways to please a man, and be pleased by them, without going all the way, you know?" "Well, sort of; but no, not exactly! Wouldn't that be against the natural order of things, cheating like..." "Just what sort of natural order do you believe in Rozenn?" demanded Seren, in a strangled whisper. "One where we each have choices to make, taking due account of God's design for our lives..." "Do you follow this one God religion, Christianity do they call it? I've heard my parents talking about it, and how you had to be a follower to get on in the Emperor's service." Rozenn checked that the children were still asleep before leaning into Seren, "I used to go to one of the Christian gatherings in Deva; but much of what they said made no sense to me. It did seem that you had to be a proper Roman to benefit, not the bastard product of a legionnaire's prostitute..." "How do you know about..." "So it is true then, what others say about my mother and Timotheus?" Seren gently slapped Rozenn on the back, "You deceived me, that was naughty, I thought you really knew those things!"

"I did, to a point, but you neatly confirmed it all for me! I have overheard gossip in different places, and put two and four together to make six. The only fact I'm missing is who my real father is?" "Timotheus is a nice man, though. Almost as cuddly as Vychan, son of Hewer, of whom I dream each night, and trust that he is thinking of me." "Seren, what faith do you hold to be true in this life?" asked Rozenn in a serious voice. "I believe in the force of the gods that vie with each other to influence every moment of our earthly existence. Some are decent and help us; rather more are malign and destructive, bad spirits. Zethar is a follower of the first lot; I used to talk with her about such things, before..." "Was, is, she a witch then?" Seren laughed, "Not a human sacrificing Druid. But, yes, she could, can, tell the future from casting the runes, studying your palm, smelling urine, that sort of stuff!" Rozenn grimaced, "I do hope that she is safe, out there, wherever she is?" "Her cat will drive any bad people away from Zethar, horrible smelly thing!" "Who is the stinky one, Zethar or Heodesa?" Seren was spared answering by two of her younger brothers waking and instantly starting a fight, "I'll tell you later! Stop it you pair, let's go and get a drink, now!"

Paulinus sleepily pulled the shutters down from the door of his bar, to find his first customer patiently waiting in the early morning cool and damp, "Gwythur! What does the secretary of the civil council want of me at this time of day? Have messengers arrived from whichever Emperor is on the throne?" "First blessing, Paulinus, and your woman! No news, but we need to talk, perhaps after jentaculum? What can you offer a tired, hungry, unpaid public servant?" "A free meal by the sound of it! Fresh bread will be ready soon, with honey; perhaps a herbal infusion first, or something stronger?" "Sod the time of day! A stiff drink, then something to mop it up!" Paulinus escorted his guest to a table near the kitchen oven, away from the customer tables, and chivvied his bed fellow to hurry the dough rolling whilst he opened a stone jar of potent spirits. "Health, wealth and happiness, dear Gwythur; best to knock back this libation in one gulp, before your guts realise what's coming." Gwythur, a rather haggard looking man, complied with the toast, and spent the next few minutes coughing and spluttering. When he had regained control of his breath, he offered up his beaker for a second dose,"Not quite as sophisticated as I have known, but it hits the spot very keenly, another would be very welcome!" Paulinus complied, then sat opposite the more relaxed looking official, "Spill the beans then, Gwythur. You normally come to complain about late-night revelry! This looks to be more serious than that?" 14

"Indeed, Paulinus; very serious!" muttered Gwythur, "and related to the news your old colleague Thaddeus brought to us two weeks ago?" "So, stop shilly-shallying, what's happened?" "Late last evening, a carter arrived from Condate, usual load of salt to barter for what we can spare..." "Gwythur, get to the bloody point, please?" "Yes, well, the carter demanded to speak with a senior official, said he had news of great relevance and import, and as I'm just about the only thing left that approximates to..." "Gwythur!" snapped Paulinus, "tell me, or bugger off so I can run a business!" "Sorry! Well, according to this man, who has spoken to travellers up from Salinae, who in turn have information from folk in Mediolanum; there IS a largish group of foreigners living in the Great Forest, possibly 300 or more in number, who have been raiding widely, hit and run style, and are said to be moving towards us here in Deva..." "Who says that this is real; a fact and not another rumour?" "I know, I know; but the haulier has been a reliable chap, and one of the people he named from Mediolanum is a distant relative of mine, something he did not know. And with what Thaddeus and that lad of his had to say, well?" Paulinus sat silently thinking while Gwythur drained his beaker and sniffed appreciatively on the aroma emerging form the oven.

"This messenger arrived last night, what have you been doing since then, flapping around the basillica hoping for inspiration?"

"Certainly not!" bridled Gwythur, "mostly trying to find the keys to the weapon stores in the barracks! And to my total lack of surprise, I could not locate them, anywhere; confirming my long held suspicion that when the councillors departed at great speed during the running flux, they took them!" "What? Leaving a whole city without the means to access the armoury and defend itself? Surely not? But, wait up! What about the caretaker, doesn't he have a copy of the keys?" "No! I eventually roused him from his drunken stupor in the gatehouse to be told that his set were impounded by the Civitas Exchequer when he and his family ran away. Which presumably means that the old goat hid a few riches in the armoury, to collect again later, when the crisis abated." Paulinus was quiet again, and hardly noticed when the steaming hot, freshly baked bread was put before him. "Gwythur, have none of the Civil Council returned to reside in Deva yet? I thought I heard tell that..."

"Funnily enough, the Exchequer's chief houseboy did call in to my office the day after Thaddeus, to let me know that His Lordship was planning to return within a few days, and that cleaners were staying at the house to prepare it. But, nothing happened. Why?" Paulinus shivered despite the heat radiaiting form the kitchen behind him, "You don't think that the armoury has been stripped out do you? Sold off, bartered, stolen, whatever?" It was Gwythur's turn to look horrified, "Surely, I would have noticed... But, no, I've been so busy with manuscripts and parchments over the last year, I suppose anything might have happened. But how do we find out; we can't break into the armoury, can we?" Paulinus smiled, "Not through the walls, no. But, the wooden door will yield, eventually, to a good bonfire." "Isn't that risky, setting flames in such a confined space?" "Can be, but what is the alternative? You, I, we, need to know now whether we have the means to repel an attack. And if we don't, then consider the very few options left!" "Evacuate or capitulate, I suppose?" "Or retreat into the barracks, and let them try breaking into that? Whatever! First off, we have to get into the armoury. Shall I gather a few of the less pudding like old soldiers and have a go?" Gwythur hesitated, using the pause to finish the last slices of bread with drizzled honey. "There is no choice is there? Yes, please, Paulinus, attempt to break into the armoury and let's see what our leaders have been up to?"

CHAPTER TWELVE Prydwyn lay on his front, with his upper body draped over Sulwens warm and comforting abdomen, snoring quietly. Heodesa made similar sounds of contentment as the cat lay, in turn, curled up on the man's lower back. Zethar, sitting at the cage front, turned and smiled ruefully at the temporary tableau of rest. "Are you asleep as well, Sulwen?" "No, I can't move though and my left leg is numb and tingling. Seems a pity to rouse them yet though?" "Indeed, and we can do women's chatter while they both catnap! What did you make of Vanuesa's private meeting with us early this morning? She was very keen to know more about that jewellery..." "Yes, she was. Quite wore me out, constantly asking and barely giving us time to reply before the next demand. You, Zethar, knew much about the old history of the garments they came from, how so?" Zethar shrugged her shoulders and slid next to Sulwen, to ease their whispering. "When I was even younger than you, and almost as pretty, I was blessed with the god's gift of discernment and interpretation. At least, others came to favour my skill at explaining the portents. But, my gift wasn't reinforced with the necessary power to make things happen. I could not alter the auguries, that lay with their perceiver. So, over the years I became the repository of knowledge and secrets from many folk. Some of which was heady stuff, like where Vanuesa's hoard came from. Most of which was, though, mundane and boring. Then, because I had done something very bad, the spirits sent me this cat, to stop me interfering in their world." 18

Zethar lifted Heodesa onto her own lap as Sulwen stroked Pridwyn's hair and neck. "How can a cat have that effect on you, Zethar. I mean, it's only a fel..." "This monster is... Or should I say was, I am now certain of the transition... the living being that held the animus, the eternal and spiritual existence of a very angry and strong man. His life was sacrificed by his so called friends in a sailing ship that was foundering at sea. An offering to quell the wind and wave gods and bring the ship to safety. In his mortal rage, his soul-being displaced that of the cat on the vessel, living on inside the moggy, desperately hoping to take revenge on his murderers. By and by, the craft ran aground on the marshes near Deva. The cat was the only living object cast ashore, and was rescued by a hermit who lives there. He, not knowing what the cat truly was, bartered it with me in exchange for goods, and I was too slow in divining the reality! So, my whole life for the last 3 winters has been tending the beast, waiting for someone who had the essential power to come and destroy it." Sulwen looked thoughtful, "So, in your way, the cat can't just be bumped off, the animus must be bound down first, is that it?" Sulwen again pondered Zethar's nodded reply. "You said was, what has happened then to change your mind"

Zethar leant in even closer to Sulwen, and muttered very softly, "The night that Talaith was killed by Vanuesa's heavies, the cat changed in its nature, instantly. Heodesa became timid, scared and obedient, as if it had the spirit of the just sacrificed Talaith inside. Which caused me to watch the encampment closely since then, to see which new form the animus has obtained." "And, tell, who or what is it?" Sulwen whispered urgently, causing Prydwyn to squirm on her lap. "I am not sure, yet. But I was keenly noting the antics of one of the youths who captured me, when he passed the hut where Vanuesa was questioning us earlier. He saw the jewellery and his face went through a myriad of expressions, all venomous and hateful. Vanuesa seemed to notice as well, she told him and the other children to go away and do something useful with their energy." Sulwen hesitated as she was distracted by a disturbance near the cage door. "Our presence is required, again, it would seem. And so very early?" She woke Prydwyn by rolling his body onto the floor, just as the escorts beckoned for her to follow them. "Oh, I think we are going before the whole Phthingwold again! Which one of us is for the fire this time?" ------------------------------------------------

Merwyn and Vychan had been travelling as rapidly as possible after the previous night's rest. They had planned to rest at Durocobrius but decided to push themselves by jogging, allowing the horses to trot and eat up the mile posts to reach Veralumium. As dusk was reducing the middle distance visibility, the lads stopped briefly to switch mode of transport for the final passage when they both clearly heard the high-pitched scream of a distressed female. Hopefully allowing for the sound distorting effects of closed countryside, Merwyn ran off to the right of the road, thrashing through head high scrub and down a steep slope; the din increasing as he approached its presumed source. Vychan roped the two horses to a sturdy bush and followed in the wake of his friend. "Merwyn, what if this is a ruse by robbers to distract us?" Vychan shouted to the woods. After a delay broken only by the scrunching of human through undergrowth, Merwyn responded. "If it is a decoy, she looks rather attractive! Oh, shit, a quagmire! Vychan, get here, quickly, please!" The latter searched diligently for only a short while before emerging onto a low lying meadow with marsh reed edging, sprawled across which was Merwyn grasping the upper torso of a young woman whose legs were invisible beneath the cloying mud.

Merwyn turned "Vychan, run back and fetch down the horses so you can haul us both back out of this mess!" "Hold tight to her, and don't go any further out into the mere, Merwyn, for any reason, OK?" Vychan nimbly clambered back up the bank to release the hobbled animals, and back at a slower pace as the horses reared against the enveloping greenery. He roughly unloaded the panniers and stripped off two of their securing cords, knotting the ends into a single rope. Then, he tied one end to the load frame pommel, and its other around both of Merwyn's ankles. "Hold on you two! Here goes!" By gently leading the still skittish beast by its head, Vychan slowly manoeuvred the horse away from the marsh edge, extracting the two embraced bodies with a squelching, sucking sound. The dragging ceased as the young woman's torso arrived on firm ground, by which time Merwyn's tunic had ridden up to his mid-chest, exposing his private organs to her hysterical laughter. "Well, my rescuer, aren't you glad to see me? Not even at all?"

Vychan roared with mirth as he unleashed his friend and assisted Merwyn to adjust his garments. "No, miss, I think the being dragged backwards cooled any ardour he might, understandably, have felt at being in the grasp of such a pretty maid as yourself!" "Flatterer; and I am no maid! Or otherwise how would I know about such things, heh?" Merwyn stood upright having squezzed the worst of the pungent, black slime of the mere from himself. "Would you like any help to clear the gubbins off yourself, madam?" he asked with a hesitant leer at the similarly mud caked woman. "In your dreams, Merwyn! Stand back and turn away, boys!" As the youths complied, they could hear the swish of clothing and the slap of hands on bare flesh. "Right, now let me kiss my hero's." As Merwyn and Vychan turned back they saw the woman, partially hidden behind one of the larger water side bushes, now clothed in a vivid pale blue smock. She came towards them, carrying a bundle of her previous, matted garments. "Perhaps we should do this properly now! Hail, and Greetings in the name of our God. My name is Sister Philomena, guide and companion of Brother Cadzwallen, peripatetic priest."

"Er, right, well! First Blessings to you, Philomena; although it's very nearly time for Nocturnal Serenity. I am Merwyn, this is my friend and travelling companion Vychan. We are from near Deva and we travel towards Londinium. Do you live near?" "We, Brother Cadzwallen and I, reside in Veralumium. Will you break your journey and rest with us tonight? Good! Come, we had better get a hurry on before the sky is totally dark." The trio clambered back onto the road and placed Philomena on the back of the larger horse, leaving Vychan and Merwyn to jog along beside her. Conversation between them was limited by the need for the youths to breath regularly, but basic life histories were established by the time they reached the guarded entrance to the city. Philomena was considerably more mature than first impressions had led Merwyn to judge; closer to three score years. She was born, named as Neirys, into a large seafaring family and nurtured in South Gaul, frequently travelling with relatives on passage to the ports of the Mediterranean. On one such journey, around the time of her womanhood, the vessel foundered in a huge storm and Neirys was the only survivor. She was eventually found, half crazed with thirst and salt burns, by a patrol of legionnaires who carried her to barracks, where they liberally took of her charms until they paled of their entertainment and dumped her.

Neirys wandered until her desperate state was observed by the more friendly of the street harlots, who encouraged her to seek refuge at the mansion of a kindly Jewish widow who followed the Christian faith. Over the ensuing three years, the young woman regained her health, stability and gained a new name, Philomena, when she adopted her guardian's religion. Through a complicated series of happenings, fortunately skirted over for the sake of brevity, she found herself in Tours, serving as a helpmate to the followers of Martin, a venerated Christian scholar. One of them, a blind monk from Brittania called Cadzwallen, was despatched to bring teachings and guidance from the Tours believers to the Christian community in Veralumium, with Philomena literally providing his eyes. The couple had been warmly received and made a dwelling for the last six years, Cadzwallen having become a respected adviser and mediator in the whole city. Philomena seemed to Merwyn as if she had quite enjoyed being at the centre of young male attention, and noticeably pouted when they came to the northern gate through the walls into the city. Their entry was prevented by a heavy wooden hurdle in front of which stood three large, strangely garmented warriors with proportionately sized lances and shields.

"Stand fast! Declare yourselves!" called the the middle one in a thick, barely understandable voice, advancing to challenge the arrivals. Philomena gracefully slid to the ground and smiled at the bearded, grizzled man. "Hail, in the name of God! I am Philomena, companion of Brother Cadzwallen, returned from gathering herbs. In the company of two men who heroically rescued me when I stumbled into a bog whilst grasping for celedonias that were further away than I am long!" The checkpoint officers relaxed and snorted at the woman's playful mime of getting stuck in the sucking mud. "Brother Cadzwallen will be most grateful to you," said the sentry, turning first to Vychan, "and the gratitude of such a senior citizen will be worth enjoying. Your name, lad?" " I am Vychan, son of Hewer and Ederna of Haltum, near to Deva." "Welcome to Veralumium; if your purpose is peaceful?" "Well, yes, of course! We, Merwyn and I, are on passage to Londinium, too seek..." "Seek your fortune in the big wicked city!" The guard turned to his companions and spoke rapidly in a foreign tongue, causing them to both to howl with laughter. "You must be the fortieth such to pass this way in the last two moons," he said, turning to Merwyn, "are things that bad up yonder?" Merwyn hesitated in replying, anxious not to disclose too much about the real objective. "We are hoping to find out when the Legions will return, so we can both enlist?"

Again the interrogator translated for the other two, provoking a much subdued and enforced grimace. "The Legions are not going to come back here, sony; but let others tell you that, not me!" After a perfunctory check of the horses loads, the barrier was effortlessly moved to allow the threesome to pass through the gateway into the already dark streets of the city. Philomena led the way through numerous streets, leaving the boys to manoeuvre the animals in her wake. She stopped in front of a stone built, two storey building towards the end of one thoroughfare. Her sharp pull of a hanging rope, by the smaller of two door ways set into the front faรงade, chimed a loud bell within that summoned someone to open a small, eye level peep hatch, and issue a terse curse. "And where in Hades name have you been, woman? Brother Cadzwallen has been crying and calling for you since dusk! He's called the watch master to search the city and find you! Oh, my, he'll be so happy to thrash you for upsetting him, I mean..." Philomena weathered the stream of words then placed her right index finger to her lips, "Hush Noviciate Aouregan! May the peace of God pass all human understanding in helping you to control your tongue. Now, go and open the main gateway so my new friends can stable their beasts. Quick!"

The gap was slammed closed, followed by the noise of scurrying footsteps. A squeal and scrape of wooden bars being lifted preceded the larger double opening swung inwards. To reveal two petite women struggling to balance the heavy catch beam. Merwyn stepped to their aid, allowing Vychan to lead in the horses in the wake of Philomena who looked and sounded concerned. "Aouregan, where are the steward and the groom? Why are you opening the...?" "They were both sent to assist the night-watch master find you, they've been gone for hours, I mean..." Philomena told Vychan to pass the bridles to her, and between them the boys replaced the barriers. The two seeming servants rushed off in response to muted shouting from across the small quadrangle. By the time the beasts were safely quartered, Philomena had also left Merwyn and Vychan to gaze around. "Your Philomena lives in some luxury, Merwyn! Guarded courtyard, numbers of servants, not just a pretty face and a comely chest..." "She is not my anything, Vychan! It was you she kept eyeing up after we retrieved her from that bog! And now we've stopped and caught up with ourselves, I stink of crap! Is there any water around to slush away this clag?"

Vychan wandered out of the stabling area, and checked through the numerous open doors lining the open centre of the house. He beckoned Merwyn to one near the main range of rooms into which the three woman had disappeared. "Is that a private bathing place in there? Feels hot enough to be..." said Vychan pointing inside. "It is, I think? Rich enough to afford your own heated wash pond! I didn't know such places existed!" exclaimed Merwyn, leaning through into the humid, misty interior. He was stopped from entering by Philomena tapping his bottom with a wooden skin scourer. "Ladies first, young men! When I have abluted, you can clean yourselves up. Aouregan will bring you some fresh garments and take these grubbies to be laundered. Could you tend to the horses for us, me, while you're waiting, and then we shall break bread with Brother Cadzwallen!" -------------------------------------------------------------------------Despite the prisoners being shuffled in front of the already assembled camp dwellers, Vanuesa and her two muscle-men, were very slow in arriving. Dusk had already gathered within the clearing deep inside the forest, causing the central fire pit to illuminate the surroundings with a dull orange blush. The captives had an excess of opportunity to ponder their fate, as the glowing light reflected off the skull of Talaith.

Announced by a sudden resonating boom from the ceremonial hunting horn that stood by her dwelling, Vanuesa emerged from the gloom onto the open space that overlooked the gathering. Unusually, at least to Sulwen's recall, the priestess was not joined by her escorts, who remained to the rear. Vanuesa was covered in the full-length dark cape, that encircled her face to look like the full moon. Having given the followers time to admire her aura, Vanuesa briskly uncovered her head to reveal the yellow cascade flowing within her curls. A murmuring chant rippled through the assemblage as The Sun worshippers greeted their leader, who slowly rotated her head, causing the flame-light to twinkle in the metals. Then, without any preamble, Vanuesa removed the cloak and moved closer to the blaze. Zethar gasped in recognition of the ancient gemstones that had been incorporated into a dark shawl that covered the back of Vanuesa's usual light coloured jerkin. Draped between her shoulders, the gold coins had been fashioned into a rising sun, with the black stones forming radiating lines within the gleaming semicircle. The ritual noise had paused at the unexpected adornments on the priestess, to restart as a louder, rhythmical stamping of feet with punctuating shouts of joy. As the volume increased, the prisoners were prodded to kneel, with their heads facing Vanuesa. Suddenly, above the repetitive communal intonations, a screaming cry echoed across the crowd. 30

"Princess Vanuesa, the Suevi's servant-priest of Zoras! You are defiled and unclean! Turn away from her... she is corrupt. Vanuesa, you must be sacrificed to appease..." The voice altered to incoherent ravings as its source hurtled from the crowd and tried to slash at the leader. Vanuesa jumped back out of the arc of the swirled blade, and grabbed the ceremonial staff that, with the trumpet and head piece, were her symbols of power. As she pointed the large and solid wand to her attacker, he was struck down by sharp blows to the back of each knee from her two male attendants. The frenzied rantings changed to shrieks of pain as the youth collapsed, dropping his weapon and dislodging his face-mask. Vanuesa moved to stand over the supine body, "So, Bayerthgart, what do you mean by this intrusion?" Zethar was only a little taller than the young man when he sat up, and she could easily see the malign spirit glowering behind the eyes of the leader of the hunting gang who had captured her and Heodesa. "I... am... not... that... child," said the voice gaspingly, between paroxysms of pain, " I... am... Zaccakady, the... unavenged essence... of a good man... who was murdered by... dishonest sailors who dealt in the... same coins as you... adorn your garments with. You demean your authority... by imitating them, I demand... my revenge on that which you now treasure..." 31

A generalised chattering from the assembly, gave Zethar time to stare back at Vanuesa, who's eyes were staring at the cat sitting in front of Sulwen. The Priestess suddenly turned to give a discrete smile at the old woman, before raising her voice to call for silence. "So, Zaccakady, you wish to kill me, in revenge upon whom?" "Upon those who... stole those coins from honest people... and beggared them..." "How will my death bring peace to those whom, you claim, have been cheated and impoverished?" "By re-balancing the spiritual forces that are at out of line... settling the powers into stability... clearing the violent anger that taunts my soul..." Vanuesa smiled as she lowered the strong lathe of wood, and its ornaments, behind her. "Ah, Zaccakady, you wish to bring peace to yourself! Have a chance to fight off those who bound you on the high seas! Prove yourself a better man than any of the sailors who died despite sacrificing your life! So be it! Zoras has need of human blood to seal the pact the Suevi tribe conclude tonight. Will it be yours, or that of Douras our chief hunter? Come," she gestured to the shorter of her two guardians, "let us see Zoras decide between you two men in single weapon mortal combat. Go, prepare your bodies and inner beings for the test. I shall summon you when the Phthingwold has decided."

As the younger man was helped to his feet by his soon-to-be-attacker, Vanuesa signalled for the captives to stand and move to one side with their escorts. She turned full circle, shaking out the shawl into full glory, before facing the now silent crowd. "Tribe of Suevi, my people, followers of Zoras! We come into open and shared discourse, under the rights of Phthingwold." Vanuesa stopped to allow the ritual chanted response that formally confirmed the meeting's legitimacy and authority. "We have travelled far," she continued" in our quest for homeland, ground to call our own, again. A place to have children, tend flocks, keep our observances, in peace with our neighbours. Our journey has covered many moons and leagues, across rivers, seas and marsh, to this redoubt in a green land. We have espied where the natives are, and that they fear us. We have, through our hostages, uncovered some of the secrets and history of this place." Vanuesa again paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "Zoras has spoken of this land as our new abode. If we are prepared to make it so, by stealth or by the sword, as needed. Will we commit to the shedding of human life in battle, ours and our enemies, if we cannot gain our aim in peace? By family clan, each head now speak! For or against war?" The three captives were almost forgotten as the crowd swirled past them and coalesced into groups of varying sizes.

Sulwen tried to translate the rapid chatter from the nearest but gave up after a few minutes. "They are rattling away, far too quickly for me to grasp! Vanuesa has certainly stirred them all up. What difference will the decision make to us though?" Prydwyn leaned across and hugged the young woman towards him, "Let's hope that the Suevi have more need for us than Zoras does?" Zethar remained silent, glancing between her two fellow prisoners as they held each other and Vanuesa standing quietly but proudly on the platform. The priestess rotated her head, scanning her gathered followers as they noisily argued the options she had defined. As their gazes met, Vanuesa slightly inclined her head to Zethar and smiled for a fleeting moment. After the third such gesture, the old woman relaxed and turned to the young lovers. "Be not a'feared you two, I have very high hopes for your, my, our futures, just..." Zethar was interrupted by a blast from the ceremonial horn as the first reply was shouted out by a man who had stepped next to the Priestess. He was followed by seven others who all repeated the same word, 'agaro' which, according to Sulwen, meant war. As the last man stepped off the plinth, Vanuesa pointed towards the remnant of daylight showing above the tree canopy. "Zoras accepts our decision and will bless our desires through the gift of lifeblood. Fight to the death!!"

A large space opened up around the two warriors as they walked into the firelight and took positions opposite each other. The chanting from the crowd reached loudly into the air as the two men warily eyed each other and shifted their body weight from foot to foot. As the noise reached a deafening level Zaccakady, in the form of Bayergarth, feinted to one side then swung his sword in a backstroke towards the head of Douras. The older man easily parried the swipe with the small but seemingly heavy shield that he carried in his right hand, and lunged at his opponent at the same time with the curved sword in his left fist. Bayergarth parried that blow with his own shield but could not mount a counter attack as Douras' weapon stayed embedded in the wood of his protection. The youth jumped backwards and released the guard, swinging it to his left dragging Douras to his knees by the sudden weight tangling his two arms. Bayergarth leapt onto the back of the semi-prostrate Douras and pulled his head back to deliver the fatal cut with his dagger. Before he could reach the blade from his own back scabbard, Douras forced himself to stand, spilling Bayergarth head-first to the floor where he lay stunned from colliding with the base of Vanuesa's pedestal. As Douras retrieved his own dagger to finish the battle, Vanuesa signalled and called for the fight to cease.

"Zouras' will be done and blessed by the death of Bayergarth! I command the spirit of Zaccakady to depart to the other-world and rest. To ease you passage to the places of the dead, I invite you, Zethar, to finish his earthy life and release the bound force to re-commence its journey to beyond the grave." Zethar almost ran to snatch the small sword from Douras and despatch Bayergarth ,in the certain knowledge that the wretched animus of Zaccakady that had tormented her through the cat was finished. The old woman slashed the throat of the dying youth after driving the blade deep into his left chest. Zethar stood back and smiled at Vanuesa in gratitude for the deliverance, and was in no way surprised to see that Heodesa had walked over the now corpse to curl at the feet of priestess.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN As on the two previous mornings in Veralumium, Merwyn was woken by the pre-dawn prayers and chanting from the small Christian oblation chamber on the floor below where he and Vychan were lodged. Rolling to one-side of his sleeping couch, Merwyn stretched a leg and kicked his companion awake. "Vychan, gather your wits! We need to talk whilst our hosts are occupied with their god. Come on, stop lusting after Oanez, wake-up and say something." "First blessing, Merwyn! Stop striking me, will you? I'm awake! What now, it's barely light outside..." "I know, but this is just about the only time of day that we can be on our own to talk without Cadzwallen or one of his flock being with us! I thought Ariana could chatter on! He never stops talking to somebody about something or other!" "Yes, indeed. No wonder that Philomena gets away from the house each day on whatever errand she can invent. He is always demanding that she read this parchment, fetch that roll, write the other letter. I wonder, do they regard patience as a saintly virtue?" Merwyn went and sat on Vychan's couch so they could whisper more easily. "What do you know of saintliness? Are you adopting their onegod faith? Hewer, your father, will go berserk if you ignore the spirits of the woods and..." "No, I am not becoming a Christ-one. But they do go on about St. Alban and St. Paul and all the others. Why no women as saints do you think?" 37

Merwyn hesitated, "Good question! I shall ask Philomena about that when we speak later..." "Only speak is it? A fine form of female! Did she not reward you for saving her earthly life at the bog..." "Not in that way, no. But I am sure that she provides Cadzwallen with full use of her body, lucky old sod!" "How do you know..." hissed Vychan as the sounds from downstairs temporarily diminished in volume. "We can discuss that another time. Have we found out enough to return to Haltum with our mission completed?" "Is this Cadzwallen as reliable about everything as he acts to be?" said Vychan, sitting up next to Merwyn. "Umph, another good question! His advice is certainly sought out by many different folk each day. And on lots of subjects, most nothing to do with his god. He may be a boring old wind bag, but people pay attention to what he says, and pay well for it." "Yeah, around the city his name often crops up in conversation. He seems to be as important as the Civitas leaders, wherever they are." "You still haven't managed to track them down then, oh great field hunter?" "Nope. The citizens of this city are scarred of their own shadows, and terrified of these Jutes who are employed to guard them against raiders and invaders."

"Who pays the civic guard force? I haven't seen much money changing hands, goods, valuables, jewels and so forth, no coins." "According to the gossip in the marketplace cafĂŠs, the Jutes are paid in kind. Foodstuff, libations, houses outside and refuges inside the walls, free grazing for their herds, first choice of the new livestock. Basically whatever they want they take. And the people are so afraid to be without a reliable defence against raiders from outside that they meekly go along with it all." "Vychan, are you treated as an outsider? Is that why the locals are being coy with you?" "Perhaps. More likely the Jute guard who keeps following me puts them off." "I didn't know you were being trailed after! To what end?" "Who knows? It is the same lad each day. I know he knows that I am aware of him and he just stays back, ten to fifteen paces away. Not close enough to hear everything, but enough to see what I do, and with whom." "Right. That decides it for me. Now, we compare what knowledge we have gleaned and decide which way we travel off towards today, Londinium or home to Haltum."

"I agree. One more evening of Cadzwallen's preaching and my ears will drop off. So, from the top. No Roman soldiery has been based here for at least three winters, and only a small vexillation even then. Garrisons are said to exist at Lindum and Deva, which we know to be untrue,at least for Deva. Half an ala of cavalry did stay for two nights last Autumn, escorting a group of messengers said to be from the Emperor in Gaul, Honorius. Others reckon they were the remnants of troops taken across the sea by Constantinius and his General Gerontus when he left Londinium to fight Honorius and his General Stilicho. Whatever the truth of any of that, the messengers went off northwards in pairs, each with a small group of cavalry, never to be seen here again." "Cadzwallen has told me of them, Constantinius and Gerontus that is, no mention of message carriers though. I wonder if they, or two of them, were they who pitched up at Deva and died of the flux, as Paulinus told us about?" "The timing seems to fit well enough. And the locals here talk about the new claimant to be Emperor in Londinium, wasn't that what the messengers were about? Why has Cadzwallen not told you of them? Is he keeping anything else secret from you?" "I suppose he must be. We've been honest about our reasons for travelling, but he must be hoping that two fine strapping young men can be beguiled into joining his otherwise female or ancient household of adherents."

"You've not been showing too much interest have you Merwyn?" asked Vychan as a he quietly tiptoed to the glazed window overlooking the still street below. "I for one have no wish to be trapped here, awake and singing whilst the rest of the township is still only thinking about facing the new day." "I have been exemplary in asking my questions and avoiding giving answers to others!" said Merwyn as he joined his companion. "So, what else do your drinking friends share with you?" "That no salaries have been received from Gaul for the last two years. That what they call barbarian troops are in control in Londinium as well as here and other townships. Some of them came by raiding ship looking for a home themselves. Others were invited from Gaul and beyond the Rhine by the last Roman governor of Maxima Caesariensis to garrison communities against such raiders. Brittania Prima is said to remain under Roman control and still having regular contact with Honorius in Gaul." "Not according to Cadzwallen. He states, and frequently to those who ask him, that the whole Imperial Diocese of Brittania, Gaul and Spain is still loyal and that the current difficulties will soon be resolved and things back to normal." "And you believe him, Merwyn?"

"I believe that is what he wants us to believe. Cadzwallen relies very heavily on what his old teacher says, or said. 'What did Brother Martin of Caesarodunum say?' I must have heard that plea at least thrice a day! Philomena will then go to the parchment library and either return with the reply, or the actual roll and read it to him." "Why would he not tell the reality if he knows it?" "I asked Philomena that. She replied about Cadzwallen seeing events through different eyes, taking a spiritual perspective, longer term until their Jesus returns, rather than immediate human needs for here and now." "And you understood that?" muttered a bemused Vychan. "I've heard more ridiculous wordage than that just before we left Haltum!" "What? You've not said anything before..." "Shush" said Merwyn. "They've finished their morning devotions. Are we decided then? When shall we leave?" "Let us break fast with them. I want to ask Cadzwallen a couple of questions then we make our decision, OK?" The first meal of the day was a simple affair at Cadzwallen's home, at least compared to his main hot meal of the day. A choice of libations and infusions with freshly baked bread, cheese, apples and honey. Merwyn and Vychan partook of the hospitality to the fullest before requesting a private discusion with the Brother and Philomena. 42

The courtyard room where Cadzwallen received visitors and conducted his affairs could easily accommodate the four people present, sitting on individual stools. "Before either of you speaks," said the blind, old but contented looking Cadzwallen, "I have not had opportunity to thank the two of you, jointly and together, for rescuing Sister Philomena from the bog marsh. We, she and I am indebted to you both." The priest paused while Philomena placed small carved wooden crosses hanging from fine leather thongs around the neck of Vychan and Merwyn. She also gave the former a chaste peck on the forehead, the latter a lingering full on kiss on the lips. "Thankyou, Philomena!" said the priest dryly, "now, to business. What did you want to speak of with me?" "Brother Cadzwallen, may I seek your wisdom first, whilst my friend stops blushing and collects his throughts?" laughed Vychan. "Firstly, we are both very grateful to you and your followers for the hospitality we have enjoyed the last three nights. Secondly, there was no need to make a gift to us of your sacred symbol, but we accept the blessing. Now to the more difficult matters. Why have I been followed whilst going about the city? Did you direct for that to happen? If so, why?"

The priest sat upright and silently frowned for some moments whilst his hands ran along the string of threaded pebbles that formed his waist band. "Young Vychan, you are learning the skills of diplomacy! Sweet words to sooth the listener followed by the stinging questions! I knew that you would be followed, but I did not arrange for it to be so. Had Merwyn ventured out from my house, he too would have been followed. Any stranger coming to our city that the duty gate master is unsure about is followed about their business until the watch commander is satisfied that they are not a risk to our safety." "But what could two youths do that would threaten a city of this size?" demanded Vychan. "Directly, perhaps not very much. Indirectly, spying out our weaknesses, disabling the night watch and opening one of the gates for raiders to enter, adulterating corn stocks to cause some malady or other..." "Brother Cadzwallen," interupted Merwyn, "you have graciously dealt with all my questions about what is happening around us, and I thankyou again for that. But you have not mentioned any of these things actually occurring. Or have you kept certain knowledge to yourself?"

Cadzwallen paused and exchanged silent glances with Philomena. "I, we, must fully discharge our debt to you by being scrupulously honest in our replies and advice. Merwyn and Vychan, you face a terribly uncertain future. The certainty of Roman rule that your fore-bearers knew and possibly took for granted is gone." He hesitated again, smiled at the woman present, and continued. "Their is no effective Empire leadership left in Brittanica. Almost no official contact with Emperor Honorius in Mediolanum and I have not received instruction from Brother Martin of Caesarodunum for nearly a year. Men willing to act as messengers can still be found, but they expect, and receive, huge sums in advance of departing, especially to journey across the water to Gaul." Merwyn and Vychan sat in silence as they heard a very clear description of a desperate situation. "I am sorry to be so blunt with you two, but your genuine desire for knowledge merits plain facts. The Legions, cavalry and auxillaries were either all ordered to accompany General Gerontus when he left Londinium for Gaul three winters ago or called as reserves. The last left, to my best of knowing, just over a year ago. Which is why many of the civitas committees have recruited experienced war bands to protect themselves from Northmen attacking by ships. Or Picts and Celts descending across The Wall. Or, indeed, fellow citizens from other towns wanting to seize what others have got." 45

The heavy atmosphere in Cadzwallen's office was permeated by the deadened sounds of daily life in the rest of the house and street beyond. "You now have what I believe to be the fullest understanding. How you chose to respond to what I have shared with you is obviously for you to decide. However, as an older and perhaps wiser man, may I suggest that you return to your families and protect yourselves and them against the coming earthly and spiritual disasters. And depart now, today, this morning as I know that the watch commander will be calling for you both, and my influence can only offer limited protection." Merwyn and Vychan looked at each other and instantly knew that Cadzwallen's advice was right for them. "Brother Cadzwallen and Sister Philomena," said Merwyn through a tight, dry throat, "we are both indebted to you, not just hospitality but instruction and direction. If Vychan would go and quickly pack our belongings onto the horses, I would ask just one more private matter of you?" "Most certainly, Merwyn! Philomena, would you get Aurogean and the steward to help Vychan whilst we speak in here?"

Paulinus threw yet another armful of hard, cracked leather scabbards onto the large heap of detritus piled in the barracks courtyard and spat in disgust. The smell of rotten and mouldy materials was barely concealed by the smoke still emanating from the huge bonfire that had been required to burn through the armoury door. Turning to where Gwythur was listing the items laid out on four small wooden trestles, Paulinus coughed and cursed. "Is this as bad as you had expected, secretary in charge of very little?" "To be very honest..." "That would be a first time for..." "Right, enough! Yes, this is about what I had become to a'fear after the two days waiting for you to gain access to this pitiful collection. What I can't understand is why some of the stocks are left behind almost in total, whilst other items are notable by their near complete absence?" "Think about it, Gwythur. What is the common feature of this shittip? Come on, think like a soldier, if you can?" "The only answer I can find is that there a two or three useful bits of each stock, heaps more of some and damn nearly nothing of others!" "So, how does that happen?" "Paulinus, don't tease me, tell me!" "When you were scribbling for the regular inspections of the armoury, what happened?"

"The armourer would lead us around the racks and shelves, pick up the top item in each pile and hand it to the civitas member to be examined." "And?" "One or more of my assistants would then count the number of that particular stock and I would record the inspection comments and the total holding." "Then?" "We would move on to the next, as guided by the armourer." "How often did anyone pull out the bottom one of each pile and check on that piece?" Gwythur hesitated, "Very rarely as I recall, perhaps never?" Paulinus roared with laughter until overcome by a coughing spasm. When in control of his lungs again, "Gwythur, that is one of the oldest tricks known to store-men! They do maintain a few examples of each item to a good standard, and ignore the rest, if they don't sell them off, or replace them with cheaper crap. Come an inspection, they make sure that they hand over one of the best to whichever numbskull is supposedly checking up on them. It takes a brave man to insist on seeing from the bottom of a stack!" Gwythur's shoulders sagged and he slammed the note tablet onto the table. "How long ago did this start then? Surely before the legion was recalled to Gaul? Leather does not rot away as badly as this in just three winters, does it?"

"Kept in cold, damp, un-aired chambers and never turned? Yes, this sort of deterioration could have happened since the soldiery left. Especially if the hides were of poorer quality to start with, not tanned and weathered." "So what has that miserable, bone idle and currently missing Keeper of the Armoury been doing with himself? Wait until I..." "You will have to wait for ever, Gwythur! That old shyster will be long since gone, with as much of his profits as he can get his workers to carry for him. No, forget him! What are we going to do to defend ourselves, if, as and when...?" asked Paulinus as he lapsed into another racking cough. "That is a bloody good question! Are you quite well, Paulinus? Your wind sounds like broken reed by the stream edge." "Very picturesque," gasped the old legionary, "flowery words to describe phlegm that is yellow, black and red and tastes akin to sheep dung! I shall be better when we get back into the fresher air outside. Shall we..." "Of course, of course! I shall do a final tally of the usable weapons and follow you. And, Paulinus, in case I forget later, many thanks for leading the men to help us, me, to discover the truth!" "Keep your words, I've just done my duty. But if you want to pay for the victuals and ale consumed on civic work, I shall send a bill for you to settle, once..." The rest of Paulinus' words were lost as he walked away from the increasingly bothered Gwythur. 49

'Fat chance of finding enough cash in here to buy one night in the meanest knocking shop of Londinium!' he muttered quietly to himself. 'And where is the property of the Civitas Council members that we, I, assumed they had stashed in here for safety. Nothing?"

As the sound of metal swords clashing on wooden shields suddenly ceased, the excited chatter of young children filled the evening air of Haltum. From the elevated vantage of the entrance to Zethar's unoccupied cave dwelling, Ysbail and Lowenek could see their menfolk talking and gesturing to the other commune males as fighting training paused. They could also watch Seren and Rozen shepherding a small flock of children together on the far side of the stream where they had been playing hide and seek in the meadow grass nearest to the bank. Over the Great Forest, the women could see four stacks of smoke briefly billowing up towards the setting sun. "Good, our neighbours are declaring that all is well with them," said Ysbail, "wave towards the watch tower so that Telyn and Heulen can light our beacon for them all to see!"

Lowenek flourished the blue stained banner crafted especially for the purpose, the agreed signal to recall the youngsters and reassure the temporary soldiery as well. Soon a huge pillar of black smoke erupted from the cliff-top, created by a compost of wet grass, green branches and tanning mixture poured over the hot embers of the beacon fire. After replacing the streamer inside the cave, Ysbail and Lowenek sat down to witness the sun set. "Have you and Timotheus spoken with Rozenn yet?" enquired Lowenek. "About her real father? No, but we both feel that the time is nearly right to so do. Have you asked Thaddeus about Zethar yet?" "Quite! We do tend to put off confronting painful matters!" The two women fell silent again, looking at the increasingly dusky houses below them, where the weapons were being placed inside the libationers for safe keeping until the anticipated urgent need to use them in anger. Ysbail sighed and reached for her friends hand, "I have to pinch myself often you know. We have been here with you for just ten days, yet it feels like a whole year with so much happening!" "Yes! I used to think that Haltum was such a quiet and peaceful community in this lovely setting. Now our men are practising thrice a day to fight off raiders and we wait for news from down south of what our future might be." "Those two big lads should be well on their way to Londinium! It is what, half a moon since they set off?" 51

"Umm. But neither Merwyn or Vychan really understood the dangers we have exposed them to on such a journey." "How so?" replied Ysbail as she stood and helped Lowenek to her feet. "Not so much the discomfort of travel, but the wicked wiles of people. And the spiritual forces pressing in on them!" Ysbail waved towards Rhobert as he clambered up the cliff path to mount first night guard. "Nocturnal Serenity Rhobert. How was the combat training?" "Nocturnal Serenity to you two, sorry, three! My bones ache, my feet are sore and my head is ringing! Mostly from the orders and shouting of your two husbands. I could never have been a proper soldier! But, at least we can stand and offer battle for a decent length of time. Perhaps enough to frighten off the brigands if they come for us?" "We were just talking about our emissaries, Merwyn and Vychan, and the hopefully good news they will return with." Rhobert threw his cloak onto the rocks and sat heavily. "I trust that the spirits bring them both back safe and well and soon! Very soon. My eldest daughter is pinning away for the want of one of them, but I am unsure which?" "As long as the boys know!" called Lowenek as she and Ysbail started down towards home, "otherwise our present troubles will be as nothing!"

Ariana soon went to sleep after a day of games, stories, dancing and flower picking with her friends. She had sleepily presented a roughly tied bouquet of wild plants to her stepmother before going to her bedtrestle. Lowenek secured the wall openings and waited for Thaddeus to come in after his final tour of inspection of Haltum. "Are we all safely gathered in for another night, husband of mine?" "Yes, Lowenek, and all is quiet, at least so far?" replied Thaddeus as he removed his shoes and sat beside his wife. "Your daughter is fast a'bed, exhausted from her time with the other children. Seren and Rozenn do keep them well occupied in the day, so she will not disturb us this evening." "Good! Much as I love her, she can be a bit too much with her questioning after a busy day." "Indeed! How goes the weapon training? Rhobert says that you and Timotheus are pleased with the progress." said Lowenek, passing him a beaker of warm herb extract. "Yes, we are. The menfolk will give a good account of themselves if we are attacked. But, only in a defensive action. Standing shoulder-toshoulder to defend ones home and family is fairly simple. What they, we, cannot do is mount a field movement and take the fight to our enemy. That takes months of training by fit men, and lots more bodies than we can muster." "Ysbail and I were discussing Merwyn and Vychan as we sat in Zethar's cave. Where should they have reached by now?"

"Ah, well, let's think. Fourteen days ago they left. If they maintain 10 miles a day, then they should be somewhere near Durocobris. Providing they haven't dallied too much at the other towns before there." "And assuming they haven't accosted any raiders?" "Yes, of course! Lowenek, why have the barbarians not launched an attack out of the Great Forest yet? Why do they delay for so long? What manipulations has Zethar created, assuming that she found them, or they her, as you would have me believe?" "Thaddeus, why do you still doubt what the spirits revealed to me about Zethar and her cat?" asked Lowenek with a hopefully disarming smile. "Wife, do we have to argue that again? I believe that you understand that to have happened. I respect your opinion, of course. But, it would be folly if I, we, the community of Haltum did not consider all the possible explanations for the old woman's disappearance after her blessed moggy!" Thaddeus drained his libation and placed the cup on the hearth. "Husband of mine, might I ask you about something that happened before we met?" Thaddeus hesitated as he made to stand up, "If it is important for tonight, or can it wait?" "I would rather we talk now, as we have the chance, and before anything untoward prevents us from so doing properly. I mean, in case..."

Thaddeus sank back onto the woven blanket covered wooden settle and sighed deeply, "Has this anything to do with Zethar, perchance?" "How did you know...?" demanded Lowenek, then after a pause," what has Timotheus been saying?" "Merely that you and Ysbail chatter quite frequently and freely. And that my life before I enlisted in the Legion, which they both know full well, has been a subject of your gossip..." "No!" interupted Lowenek, "I never, ever gossip! Timotheus I quite wrong to imply that! But, his wife, or woman I suppose, has told me that there have been dealings between you and Zethar that I should not remain in ignorance of?" Lowenek sobbed gently. "Oh no, no tears. I'll tell you. Peace!" Thaddeus raised both arms then wrapped then around his wife. "Firstly, and I hope very obviously, there was no physical or intimate acts between us! Give me some credit!" Lowenek cried again, but with half a laugh emerging between the tears. "Right," continued Thaddeus, "we both, Zethar and I, had a dark secret which we thought was hidden, but that erupted because of one sad circumstance. On the night after Ariana was born, the night that Masheva passed over, I was devastated and despondent. Ederna took the babe and cared for it whilst Hewer took the corpse away until I decided what to do next.

Late that night, Zethar came into the forge to cast spells through the rooms to banish the bad spirits left behind. I was too upset to be much bothered by her mutterings, and she was simple human company. Anyway, after she had finished, we sat outside for the rest of the night until dawn arose, talking about nothing and everything. Somewhere in the middle of her discourse she told me about the death of Sayer, her husband, the previous tanner. Apparently Zethar wilfully ignored Sayer when he slipped into the big soaking pit and in effect drowned, murdered, him by inaction." Lowenek gasped at this revelation and held tight to Thaddeus as he continued his tale. "For whatever reason, I then told Zethar about a time when I was Merwyn's age, still living with my parents in Galacia. I got into a row with one of our neighbours about chicken feed, I think that was it. He came at me in a rage and I knocked him flat to the ground. Suddenly his wife then rushed at me with a large knife blade and made to disembowel me. In a blind red mist I hit out, snapped her neck with a single punch and she was dead before she landed on top of her husband." A tense silence filled the forge dwelling as Thaddeus paused for breath.

"My family dragged me away, gave me money and their blessing, and I ran off to avoid retribution. I travelled for four days and happened upon a supply column of the Army, followed them to a depot and enlisted there and then. Within three months I was posted to one of the Rhine barracks, and then you know my story." Lowenek released her grip on Thaddeus and sat up, holding his hands lightly on her lap. "So what did you and Zethar decide to do with the knowledge that you had gained about each other?" "Initially, nothing. Hewer came to us with the sun came and I went with him to the Great Forest edge where we constructed a cremation pyre and I set Masheva on top. My own faith of Mithraism allows for the burning of bodies and I had no understanding of what Masheva's wishes were. So, Zethar made incantations over the corpse and then I ignited it. As the flames roared Zethar and I swore an oath to each other that we would never disclose the others secret, unless matters were desperate." "So, where are Masheva's ashes buried, you have never told me that?" Thaddeus paused again and gripped his wife's hands. "They are not yet buried. I have kept them in my worship cave, until it is the correct time to place them into the ground. And before you ask, that will be after the safe delivery of our child and your survival. Zethar persuaded me of that when we cleared the pyre."

Lowenek sat deep in thought as Thaddeus went across the room to fetch a jug of cold drink and he drained a large gulp after Lowenek declined to have any. Replacing the container he returned to sit beside her and waited for her to speak. "Thaddeus, what you shared with me makes sense of why Zethar chose to vanish when she did!" "It does! Explain it to me!" said Thaddeus in a loud whisper. "Hush, do not wake Ariana, she must not overhear this! You know of the death curse that exists between Zethar and myself, through my relative Nimue and her cucifixion in Deva?" Thaddeus nodded his head, "I know the facts, perhaps I do not understand all their implications?" "Quite so! I will try and make clear what has happened. Zethar recognised my origins as soon as I moved to Haltum after our wedding. She was so afraid of my completing the curse by killing her that she hid away for many days. I obeyed your wish in not so doing, without being aware of the history between you and Zethar. I came to actually like the old lady, she had, no, has a good nature despite her family. I despised that wretched cat of hers because it manifestly contained a desperate animus just waiting to escape and gain revenge for something, I knew not what." Thaddeus smiled ruefully, "I just detested the horrible moggy! But Ariana liked it so much, is that a...?" 58

"Wait, husband of mine, I will explain! When Zethar discerned my, our, pregnancy she believed that her understanding came from the animus in Heodesa, and that it was preparing to switch bodies at the birth of the new child." "How so?" "The natural spirit of a human enters with the very first breath the baby draws. Indeed, the spirits rarely move on other than at times of life and death. Zethar would, will, be present at my confinement and Heodesa would simply follow her. The blood from my birthing labour would release the animus to enter you. Your displaced essence, itself fire sworn to protect Zethar would then enter the new baby, whether or not it was, is, a boy or a girl. Zethar has quite enough gift of discernment to recognise all this, but not sufficient spectral power to influence it. For sure, Zethar would rid herself of the cat in the sure knowledge that neither it or you present any further threat to her." Thaddeus wrinkled his face as he considered what Lowenek had said. "So, if that were to happen, what might, would result between us, you and me?" "I would also perceive matters, and be very frightened for myself! You, at least the new Heodesa's-animus-in-you, might abandon me and rush away to pursue whatever your vendetta is. Or you might dispose of me, to as a gift to Zethar, removing the curse of Nimue and fulfilling the oath to the old woman."

"If all that is so, as you have said," mumbled Thaddeus, "what would you do then?" Lowenek smiled and stroked her husbands hand, "I would have some very difficult choices, at a time when I am, was, will be very restricted in my ability to act. You now understand why Zethar fled with Heodesa as soon as my condition was known to her. But that is not the knowledge I imparted to Merwyn before he and Vychan departed for Londinium! He will be assuming the wrong spiritual influences are at work, that may impede his understanding of those he meets with and..." Thaddeus leaned over and kissed his wife into silence. "Enough! We must sleep and refresh our bodies before Ariana awakes for the new day and I have to be a soldier again!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Having departed from Verulamium early in the day, to avoid the Watch Commander, Merwyn and Vychan maintained excellent progress on their horses and arrived back at Lactodurum only a little after nightfall. They had paused in the market place of Durocobrius to barter some of their less necessary baggage for food and drink and to lighten the load on their beasts. As the Mansio was already full, the lads chose to sleep in the stables for an early start the next day and to keep a protective eye on their mounts. The innkeeper remembered them from only four day before, and kept watch on the beasts while Merwyn and Vychan washed off the days grime in the wash house, and partook of a hot meal. "Vychan, are you asleep yet?" enquired Merwyn, both warmly ensconced in fresh straw under the tile roof. "No, my backside is too hot and sore! This steady cantering is playing havoc with..." Merwyn laughed loudly, stirring the horses into brief whinnying and stamping. "I am sorry, my friend, I should not mock your discomfort! I was recalling that painful bottoms is what brought us into contact with Philomena." "Pardon?"

"Granted! She told me that the flower she was searching for in that bogland we rescued her from was to mix into a lotion for Brother Cadzwallen's piles. She gave me some to add to our collection of medicines and herbs, just in case..." "Only now you promise me relief! Pass it here, I will make full use! Anyway, why are you not so bothered, Merwyn?" "Perhaps your withers are still tender from the attentions of Oanez when we were last in Lactodurum?" "Maybe! I wonder where she and Prystyn are tonight? Who is she flirting with..." "Do not trouble yourself, Vychan. We have gathered answers to the questions we set out to discover and are returning to Haltum where we should receive a warm welcome from all, especially...?" "Maybe? Probably, I don't know?" Vychan paused, "and what will you do now that we know that the legion's are not going to return any-time soon, probably never?" "I have been thinking on that all day!" sighed Merwyn, "and about the advice I sought from Cadzwallen whilst you were harnessing up the horses. I shared with the priest information that Aunt Lowenek gave to me the night before we left Haltum. Just before the farewell toasts and you sneaking off to enjoy Seren..." "I can still recall that, thank-you! What did she, Lowenek, speak with you about? I also recall you being a bit quiet and moody when I hailed you to the libationers that evening."

"Indeed I was! My Aunt gave me a tale about discerning the reasons for Zethar and Heodesa fleeing. Gained from portents she, Lowenek, gleaned from ritually sacrificing a chicken. Lowenek truly believed in the revelation gained, and wanted me to understand it before we, you and I, set out on our journey. I made very light of it with my Aunt, and she harrangued me for so doing! Having listened to so much of Cadzwallen's opinions, I wanted to seek his view on such concerns, spirits, demons, elves and so on." "And what did he offer to you in response?" "Brother Cadzwallen and the Christ-ones believe in there being one God, a supreme creator being whose son, this Jesus they talk so much of, made a final ritual sacrifice of himself. The power this released onto true believers in Jesus gives them authority over all the earthly lesser spirits. But, Cadzwallen was very bothered to hear of folk meddling with these less powerful forces, without the protection of his God, as they can still be potent and malign. He instructed me to prohibit any more such dangerous practices when we reach Haltum and he will send on a priest to properly instruct us, when he has one to spare from..." "Merwyn, the natural forces have ruled in the Great Forest since time began! If you offend them by bringing in another type of god to worship then they will let the raiders destroy us! How could you do this...?"

"Patience and calm, Vychan! That was just his advice, freely asked for and plainly given. What I will do with it I shall decide when the time is right as I do not fancy offending Lowenek any more!" "May the spirits give you the wisdom they wish! Right, my arse is soothed and I am for sleep, whilst we can. Nocturnal serenity, Merwyn, if you still accept such blessings after..." "And to you, Vychan. Rest!"

There had been so much activity in the raiders camp since the death of Zaccakady three days before that the hostages had not been taken out of their prison cage other than for daily ablutions. Prydwyn and Sulwen had spent much of the time talking quietly and laughing frequently, to the disgust of the warders outside. Zethar had allowed the young lovers to enjoy each others company and concentrated on the comings and goings, no longer distracted by the activities of Heodesa. She had espied her old, unlamented companion wandering near Vanuesa's lodging on the opposite side of the clearing, obviously contented and at peace. On the first morning after the Phthingwold, Zethar watched as the menfolk set out from the encampment in five groups, each of at least ten dressed for hunting or combat. Three of them walked towards the rising sun, the direction that Zethar thought Haltum and Deva to be, the other two to where the sun had set the previous night. For the rest of the daylight, the women and children prepared meals, attended to clothing and the shelters they lived in. 64

The parties of warriors returned on the second and third day, each with captured livestock but none of it human, to receive the greetings of all assembled. Not long after the final such reunion, the two female captives were removed from the cell and taken to stand before Vanuesa in her quarters. "Ladies, we must talk. Sit and drink from the cups, they are not adulterated, I promise!" "What are you doing to my Prydwyn whilst we are here?" demanded Sulwen as she stood before the priestess. "Nothing, yet, I promise. You and he do seem to have become very attached to each other, so my guards tell me?" Sulwen blushed and sat beside Zethar, who was concentrating on Heodesa, curled up on a thick skin in one corner of the temporary dwelling. "Old woman," said Vanuesa, allowing Sulwen to translate, "your feline is now the communal property of this tribe of Suevi. We revere such creatures, along with what you call horses, and claim this creature for our future prosperity!" Zethar nodded her head, desperate for her joy at being liberated from caring for the monster not to be too obvious.

"Now, to matters of concern. Our scouts have located five groups of dwellings in this cursed forest between ourselves and the large city you call Deva. Each of them is small, no more than five or six domiciles, perhaps 25 persons in each. One is larger, set beside a stream, overlooked by a cliff edge with a tower built on it." Zethar gasped as she recognised the description of Haltum. "Ah," said Vanuesa, "you know of where I speak then? So why have you lied to me, us; the tribe who spared your lives for assisting us? You said that no Roman troops remained. Yet, our men observed ten soldiers, fully dressed with shields and swords, preparing to fight. Douras wishes me to execute the man hostage in revenge for your deceit. Why should I stop him from so doing?" Sulwen screamed before she finished interpreting for Zethar and tried to scramble out of the priestess's hut and run to the prison. Her escape was blocked by three large women who wrestled Sulwen to the groud and held her writhing on the turf. "Sulwen," called Zethar, "stop that, now! Tell them I can explain what Vanuesa has told us, quickly!" Vanuesa guessed what the old woman had said and signalled for Sulwen to be brought back and held in front of her. "So, the one called Zethar, tell me of that place!"

Zethar knew that she was obliged to Vanuesa for defeating Zaccackady, so decided to tell the whole truth to the priestess. "The hamlet is called Haltum and has been my home for the last thirty or so winters and the soldiers are not what they seem. They are native, not Romanish, with the exception of our commune leader, Thaddeus, who is a retired Legionnaire whose home is in Galacia. We are a peaceable place of, at least when I left there, ten occupied dwellings and a total of some forty souls between them." "So, why do they train as if for fighting, if they are as peaceful as you state?" "We have been waiting for raiders to attack us since four of my, our, sheep were stolen nearly two moons ago. We assumed that this was done by raiding bands of some origin or other and have been watching over our homes and protecting our livestock since then. I can only guess that Thaddeus has discovered that you are waiting in strength in the Great Forest and has chosen to prepare Haltum to actively defend itself." Vanuesa sat in thoughtful silence for so long that Sulwen began to sob again. "Shush, young woman! Let me ponder on what Zethar has told me." After another pause, Vanuesa stood and reached across to lift Heodesa into her arms. "Why do all Romanised peoples assume that what they call barbarians are all violent, blood lusting, murdering, despoiling and pillaging heathens?" "What?" screeched Sulwen,"and you have not killed an innocent woman, and connived at the slaughter of one of your own people?" 67

"They were sacrificial offerings to our god Zoras, required for and blessed by him! We, the Suevi, are not in the habit of taking human life except for good reasons and only when our need is blessed by Zoras." "So, Prydwyn, my man, he is safe? Your Zoras will not be requiring him to be offered up?" asked a calmer Sulwen. "Quite so, and you have my sworn promise!" replied Vanuesa as she gestured for Sulwen to sit again and her escort to retire out of the meeting. "Now, ladies, we must speak openly and freely, to the benefit of all of those who matter to us. Agreed?" Sulwen translated for Zethar and added, "And as if we have any choice?" Vanuesa sat and allowed the cat to curl on her lap and seemingly oblivious to the tense humans surrounding it. "Sulwen, what have you gleaned of our history and why and how we are here?" "Very little that makes much sense to me, or to my fellow prisoners to the best of my knowledge."

"Quite. Let me explain as best I can. We, my people and I, are part of the Suevi tribe. The Suevi come from the Great Flat Lands beyond the tall mountains and many fast rivers towards the rising sun. My parents and the rest of the tribe were driven off their pastures and towards the setting sun by hordes of small, yellow skinned men with slanting eyes who were demons on horseback. I was born during the flight, and survived, unlike so many of the other infants. Eventually were came to the might torrent that marked the boundary between the Roman Empire and what they called Barbaria." "You said marked," interupted Zethar, "what happened?" "Well noted," smiled Vanuesa, "all changed just four winters ago. The river froze solid after a terribly cold time with snow and wicked frost. The Suevi combined with the tribes of Vandals and Alans and stormed across the ice and routed the Legions that stood against us. There was terrible slaughter, not just of the troops but their woman and children, in a manner that sickened many of us Suevi because that is not our way. Our leaders had many arguements with each other and our so called allies about that. The Roman Governor and Emperor capitulated to demands for us to settle on what had been their lands along the riverside.

Vanuesa paused again to drink from her beaker and then continued her tale. "The carnage caused great disgust in some of the family groups and eventually in the second summer our tribe split in two unequal parts. Those who renounced the excessive violence, the much smaller number, elected to move further downstream to find a peaceful future. In so doing we took to the water in ships copied from the natives whose lands we traversed. For the Suevi, such a change was very hard to cope with and we lost a number of our peoples when some of the boats capsized, my parents included." Again Vanuesa stopped her monologue, to adjust the posture of her lap cat this time. "At the beginning of last winter we reached the flat marshes where the river collided with the great ocean. The locals had little food to spare us and no wish to offer us land. But, they spoke with us of a Romanised island called Brittanica, just across the waves, where the peoples were weak, soft and accommodating and very likely to grant us sanctuary, if only to preserve their peace.

So, we set sail in ten ships, nearly a thousand of us crammed in, towards were the sun sleeps for the night. Two days later and a huge storm erupted, the ship guiding us ran for shelter and we were abandoned to the waves. For the next half-moon we simply went where the winds pushed us, loosing half of our ships, families and friends. We tried to land at three bays, but the native folk, naked, long haired and speaking with an indecipherable tongue drove us away. Eventually, four moons ago, we were cast ashore, more dead than alive, just three vessels remaining." Heodesa chose this moment to stretch out, rise up and wind itself around the priestess's shoulders. "The Romans guarding their precious metal workings granted us safe passage inland, with basic food supplies, in return for all our gold and silver ornaments. We stumbled around this never-ending forest until we came upon this clearing, which has been our safe home whilst we explored outwards from it." Sulwen continued speaking for some time after Vanuesa finished as she interpreted the long account. Taking the opportunity, the younger prisoner added, "Do you think she is going to ask for our help in finding a safe haven for them without a battle?" Zethar nodded in agreement as she replied, "Could be! Ask Vanuesa to share with us exactly what she, they would wish in their home land?"

Sulwen relayed the request and stopped in mid-flow as Vanuesa roared with laughter, frightening Heodesa who sank its claws into the priestess's neck and caused her to choke the mirth. "Ouch, that hurt, but the blessed cat also understands the importance of negotiation between women! Our desire is for flat pastures to graze sheep and horses, the former for food and the latter for sport. Drinkable water from a clear and constant stream. Fields to tend crops and herbs. Solid land to build homes safe from unwelcome intruders and provide shelter for friendly guests. And whilst we are all sick of the high sea, access to the coastline for salt and fish." "Vanuesa seems to describe Haltum in all its apects," murmured Zethar when Sulwen finished talking. "I wonder! Can we trust her, them and try and parley an accommodation with Thaddeus and the others?" Sulwen smiled at the older woman, "As things are, do we have any other option? The Suevi do seem to make a very great deal of talking about matters. What you have told me about this Thaddeus, he seems a fair man, not a hot head like some I could name from Deva?" Zethar paused again, and found her gaze drawn to the now drowsy Heodesa wrapped around Vaneusa's neck. "If she can deliver us all from the destructive power of what was in that cat, we have to make an effort and assist them. Yes! Tell the Suevi that I am willing to act as a go-between with the people of Haltum to discuss her, their, need for a homeland." 72

Vanuesa smiled broadly as she understood the message through Sulwen and called to the female guards outside, "Summon the Phthingwold! We have decisions to make! Now!"

Paulinus was finishing clearing the tables of his cafĂŠ after the evening meal rush when Gwythur pushed his way to the front of the small crowd sitting near the bar. "Paulinus, this is urgent, we must speak!" Conversation stopped as the old soldier grabbed the civic secretary and pulled him to the rear of the building. "For pity sake, Gwythur! Business is nearly dead without you descending on us in a frenzy and no doubt with more bad news! Sit here, I shall be straight back!" Paulinus placated his nervous customers by serving free beer to all present, before returning to Gwythur. "And I suppose you will be wanting free vesperna?" "Yes, please, Paulinus, even though such generosity will place me even further into your debt!" Paulinus gestured to his common-law-wife to serve food to both of them as he sat, with a deep sigh, opposite the tired looking older man. "Are things that grim then?" "Well, you saw part of the mess for yourself in the armoury. I've been going through the place and doing a full inventory. What have I not found?" 73

"Many of the weapons that should have been there?" snorted the publican. "In actual fact, bugger all of them?" "Just about correct! One of the armourer's assistants was found hiding in the barrack cellars after we, you, burned your way in. He has agreed to help me, in exchange for leniency over his neglect of duty. He, we have put together enough equipment to furnish nearly 50 soldiers, which I understand is not enough?" "Barely a century!" screeched Paulinus as he jumped up and banged the table with one hand, causing the drinkers at the bar to stare at him. "Less than fifty! There should have been sufficient for ten times that number!" He sat again as the hot food was placed in front of them. "Woman, you'd better serve more ale to our punters. And have some for yourself!" "Gwythur, that is barely enough troops to secure two of the four gateways into Deva! The city is wide open to anyone who wants to just walk in. Anyway, are there enough able bodied males left to don the uniforms? I hear tell that scores of families have fled to the countryside in the last few days?" "Paulinus, you are as ever well informed by your customers. I can find enough bodies to dress up, but what can you do with them?"

"Nobody could do a lot with so few, even if they were young, fit, trained and experienced! Possibly defend a few dwellings, but any serious attacker would simply use fire or starvation to flush out the survivors." Paulinus paused to feed himself, "How about form an honour guard and welcome whoever it is?" Gwythur spluttered into his meal," I wondered if you would suggest that! So, guess what else is missing?" Paulinus glanced up from his platter with a look of impatience, "Gwythur, come to the point, please? We may not have much time to play your politicking!" "I know, I know! Well, what I had expected to find was the personal and domestic valuables of the Council members. Ornaments, heavy furniture, wall coverings. All the gubbins that people fleeing from a sudden pestilence would not wish to carry, but place in safe keeping for their eventual return, when the noxious malady passed on." Paulinus nodded as he kept eating his meal.

"So," continued Gwythur, "where are their treasures? I'll tell you. Not in Deva, because I have searched high and low through the communal buildings, and bullied my way into their private residences. When they departed, they took everything, and clearly had no intention of returning, the bastards!"

Paulinus washed down the last crumbs with a generous swill from his beaker, belched and reached across to rest a soothing hand on the older mans arm. "Finish your grub whilst I check on the punters and then tell you some hard truths." Having made one loud circuit of the drinkers, Paulinus sat beside Gwythur and spoke in a low whisper. "You have spent so long with your ledgers that reality missed your existence! When they all fled last autumn, they commandeered or stole every means of assisted transport that was in the city. Carts, ponies, mules, human bodies, whatever. Whole households went through the unguarded gates, lock, stock and barrel. I wondered what else decided them into rushing off? Had they prior warning of some other disaster than bloody flux, bad enough as that is...?" "Not to the best of my knowing," interrupted the civic secretary, "but I now know that I was not told about most things I should have been, and overwhelmed with irrelevant administration to keep me busy and out of the way! If I ever meet up again with those self-promoting, nepotistic fat heads, well..." Paulinus laughed, "Well, you wont, so get used to that idea! We are left to our own devices, little enough as they comprise, and will do...?" "Whatever you decide is best, Paulinus. You have the experience of war, and the ear of the peoples remaining in Deva. What would be our choices?"

The retired soldier suddenly looked very serious, "You are asking me to make such decisions? Then things really are in the claggy mire!" He stopped, glanced around then leaned in to Gwythur again, "Give me tonight to think and we shall speak again in the morning." Gwythur smiled as he gripped the others hand, "So I am invited to free jentaculum again?"

PART FOUR TO FOLLOW