PART II - Chapter XVIII - 'Balatrus Descends'

by Michael Wyndham Thomas

The final part of Marcus's homecoming falls into place: he meets Spesis and Benevolus again, both of whom continue Vectis's work of assuring him that all is well. But the grander picture is one of change: Paullinus departs from Britannia, and the new Governor seems committed to a policy of calm after the storms of the Boudican revolt. He even dispatches a special emissary to spread his message. Though this worthy is long expected, however, his previous connection with Spesis is not.

Marcus had never seen Benevolus looking so well, not even before his injuries in battle. As for Spesis, and despite Vectis's assurances that he was safe, he was simply glad to be standing before the man. The two commanders had been waiting as Scapha nosed the boat onto Mona's shores. After heartfelt greetings all round, Vectis suddenly sprang away with 'Well, best see what he's been about'-- 'he' meaning Tignum, who had returned to Canovium the day before, confident that Vectis would find the copper projects in good order, but equally confident that, deep down, Vectis would refuse to believe this until he'd nosed exhaustively round them. Besides, Vectis had done his bit with his information about the two commanders. He could leave them to speak for themselves. Scapha sloped off after the engineer, ready to give him a hard time by tut-tutting and making noises of dismay and disappointment at everything Vectis drew to his attention.

'Don't you wish to go with them?' asked Marcus. 'Show me your handiwork?'

Benevolus chuckled and scratched his head; Marcus saw how well his hand and arm were healing: 'I fear,' he said, 'that friend Vectis has given us praise beyond our worth as miners.'

'We prod the ground a bit,' said Spesis, 'then stand about and look wise. Mind you' --and here he stared out over the Straits of Mona-- 'Vectis has demanded no more from us, and he's kept me alive into the bargain.'

Marcus ran a hand absently round the prow of the boat, taking care to keep his voice from reaching the soldiers still busy with cargo:

'I would have thought you stood a better chance inland--or out of Britannia altogether. From what I hear on all sides, our Emperor's fancy is taking a most dangerous turn.'

'He's an old, fuddled scorpion,' said Spesis. 'Which is to say that he might strike today, next year, never. I'm sure Vectis has told you what his cloth chap had to say.'

'His Livorno informant--yes, indeed. Speaking of informants--'

'Gone to ground,' said Spesis. 'I can assure you I've sent them all to ground. And in due course I'll be disappearing myself.'

'Spesis, we really must decide when that will be. I fear for you.'

'Not in your gift to decide, Tribune--with respect. It depends on . . . certain arrangements, above and beyond the world of Canovium and Mona. But when arrangement becomes action, you will be the first to know. In a little while,' he continued, 'you will see me no more.'

'And which of our bards wrought those words?' asked Marcus.

'None of them. Someone told me that Christ feller came out with them before he disappeared. Hearsay, of course: I don't know that anyone's written down all he said, but they should. Amazing, that religion--threatens to unseat Rome completely without a single spear. Peace and love as twin destroyers: now that's something our bards could never come up with.'

Benevolus saw how uneasy Marcus looked at the mention of 'that religion'; he had spoken privately with the cloth merchant, possibly learning more than Vectis about the potential perils awaiting the Tribune's family: 'Anyway,' he now said, 'Vectis continues to trumpet our worth as master-prospectors, and I put my full regalia on when messengers come to call. I'm sure the message has gone out that Spesis is a wholly reformed soul.'

'Quite the Roman Druid, he looks,' said Spesis, who then grew thoughtful: 'I've spoken with them, you know.'

Marcus started: 'The Druids? Didn't know we'd left any standing.'

'Rome would benefit from their sagacity. Not that Rome understands'--Spesis stopped and gave a diplomatic cough; a soldier was clambering down from the boat to form the head of a provisions-chain.

'Let's dry our feet off,' suggested Benevolus, and the trio struck out along the shore, hunching their shoulders against the freshening breeze.

'Don't get the wrong idea, Marcus,' said Spesis. 'Rome has far more to worry about than the possible subversions of yours truly.'

'Quite a lot more, certainly on these islands,' added Benevolus, and began to fill in a picture which Vectis had not had time to paint. All was not well, it seemed, on the managerial front. A new procurator was in place, Gaius Julius Alpinus Classicianus, who was determined to be as impressive as his name and banish all memories of his devious predecessor. Prudent, and something of a martinet, he was less than enamoured of Paullinus's campaigns and continual demands for extra manpower and weaponry, reasoning that the Governor was now fighting exclusively for his own glory. Relations between them were increasingly strained. 'The word is,' said Benevolus, 'that Paullinus's days among the Britons are numbered. A new Governor may be with us before long. Of course, the messengers who told us all that dressed the thing up differently--Paullinus is a model of valour, etc, etc, he deserves rich rewards before death overtakes him.'

'Etc, etc,' prompted Spesis.

'So his successor, whoever he may be, will not pursue the valiant man's policies?' asked Marcus.

'After repacification comes consolidation,' said Spesis, adopting the nasal whine of some Roman administrator who has the Imperial ear. 'The rebellions in the south are not over yet, but they soon will be. After that, who knows? We may be in for a tedious time of it--back to the maintenance work, pure and simple. Another day, another fort.'

'Well, at least friend Vectis will appreciate that,' said Benevolus.

'Speaking of whom,' said Marcus, 'we'd better find him. He won't forgive me if I don't take an avid interest in all that's gone on here.'

'Heavens, Tribune, is your love of the engineer's life waning?' asked Benevolus.

Marcus shrugged: 'I think I could be happy among healthy vines.'

'Couldn't we all?' said Spesis. 'I hope they've shipped some decent vintage across with you. Or drinkable at least.'

They turned back, each given over to his own thoughts. Such sun as there had been vanished. Under a sky of clay, birds wheeled and called. Back along the shore, one or two dive-bombed Scapha's empty boat in the hope of scraps. The Straits were turning restless; it would be a rough tide.

End of Chapter XVIII

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