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�Perhaps we should slit open his stomach and see what his intestines foretell?� �Let�s geld him to stop him running after our girls like an old hare,� suggested one. �Best to throw him on the fire,� said another, �then we�ll see how much heat a Roman can bear.� I was uncertain whether they were serious or just wished to frighten me in a drunken way. Anyhow, they beat me in no joking manner, but my pride prevented me from crying for help. They spurred each other on into a rage until I seriously began to fear for my life. Suddenly they fell silent and stood back. I saw Lugunda coming toward me. She stopped and put her head on one side. �I like seeing a Roman lying humiliated and helpless on the ground,� she said mockingly. �I�d like to tickle your skin with the point of a knife if I weren�t forbidden to besmirch myself with human blood.� She stuck her tongue out at me and then turned to the youths, whom she knew by name. �Don�t kill him though,� she said. �That only leads to revenge. Cut me a birch switch instead and turn him over on his stomach and hold on to him properly. I�ll show you how to handle Romans.� The youths were glad not to have to decide what to do with me. They quickly fetched switches and tore off my clothes. Lugunda stepped up close and gave me a rap on the back with the switch, at first carefully as if testing it out, and then mercilessly with all her strength. I clenched my teeth and uttered not a sound. This egged her on to beat me in a fury, so that my body jerked and trembled on the ground and tears forced their way into my eyes. Finally her arm tired and she threw away the switch. �There, Minutus the Roman,� she cried. �Now we�re quits.� The youths holding me let go and backed away cautiously with their fists up, for fear I should attack them. My head was throbbing, my nose bleeding and my back on fire, but I stood silently licking the blood from my lips. There must have been something about me that frightened them, for they stopped mocking me and let me pass. I picked up my torn clothes and walked away, but not toward the house. I walked aimlessly in the moonlit forest
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and thought dimly that it was fortunate for all of us that no one had witnessed my ignominy. I could not walk far. I soon began to stumble and I sank to the ground on a narrow mossy hillock. Shortly afterwards the youths kicked out their fire and I heard them whistling for their chariots and driving away so that the ground thundered beneath their wheels. The moonlight was frighteningly clear and the shadows in the forest horribly black. I wiped the blood off my face with a handful of moss and called on my lion. �Lion, are you there?� I cried. �IF so, roar and go after them. Otherwise I�ll never believe in you again.� But I did not even see the shadow of my lion. Instead I was totally alone, until Lugunda came creeping cautiously, pushing aside the branches as she looked for me. Her face was white in the moonlight. When she saw me, she came up to me with her hands behind her back. �How do you feel?� she asked. �Did it hurt? You deserved it.� I was seized with a wild desire to take hold of her slim neck, throw her to the ground and lacerate her as I had been lacerated. But I controlled myself, knowing that nothing would be gained that way. But I could not help asking if she had arranged it all. �Naturally,� she admitted. �Do you think they�d have dared touch a Roman otherwise?� She knelt beside me and without shyness felt all over me before I could stop her. �They didn�t crush your pouch-stones as they said, did they?� she said anxiously. �It would be bad if you could not make children with some noble Roman girl.� Then I could no longer control myself. I smacked both her cheeks, thrust her beneath me and pinned her to the ground with my weight although she beat at me with both fists on my shoulders, kicked me and bit my chest. But she did not call for help. Before I knew where I was, she had relaxed and she let me come. My life strength spurted into her and I had a feeling of such sensual pleasure that I cried out aloud. Then all I could feel was how her hands held my cheeks and she kissed me over and over again. Appalled, I drew back and sat up. Then she too sat up and burst out laughing.
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�Do you know what has happened to us?� she said mockingly. I was so terrified I could not reply. �You�re bleeding,� I cried. �I�m glad you noticed that anyhow, stupid,� she said shyly. When I remained speechless, she laughed again. �Petro advised me,� she explained. �I should never have thought of it myself. I didn�t like beating you so mercilessly. But Petro said nothing else helped with tough, shy Roman boys.� She rose to her feet and took my hand. �We�d better go to Petro,� she said. �He�s sure to have some wine and a bowl of flour ready for us.� �What do you mean?� I said distrustfully, �You�ve taken me by force, although I struggled as long as my self-respect demanded,� she said in surprise. �You don�t want Father to take his sword down from the wall and begin looking for his honor in your intestines, do you? He has a legal right to do so, Even the Romans respect that right. It would be in every way more sensible if we let Petro rub oil and flour in our hair. He can put a ring on my finger in the Roman way, if you insist.� �But Lugunda,� I cried, �you can�t possibly come with me to Rome, or even London.� �I�m not going to run after you,� said Lugunda briskly. �Don�t worry. You can come back to me sometime if you want to, but I might well tire of waiting, break my marriage bowl and let your name burn to ashes. Then I�m a free woman again. Doesn�t your good sense tell you that it�s better to follow our customs than cause a scandal that will be heard as far away as Rome. Violating a hare-priestess is nothing to play about with. Or do you deny it? You jumped on me like a rutting beast and crushed my resistance with brute force.� �You should have called for help,� I said bitterly. �And you shouldn�t have stroked me so shamelessly when I was already in such a stunned state.� I was only worried about your reproductive capacity,� she lied calmly. �I couldn�t possibly know that the light touch demanded by the rules of the art of healing would make you blind with rage.� Nothing could change my real regret. We went down to a
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stream and carefully washed ourselves. Then we walked hand in hand into the big room in the timbered house where Lagunda�s parents were eagerly waiting for us. Petro mixed oil and flour, rubbed it into our heads and then let us drink some wine from the same clay bowl, which Lagunda�s father then carefully put away in a chest. After this he led us to the prepared marriage bed, knocked me over on top of Lugunda and covered us with his big leather shield. When they had all considerately left the marriage hut, Lugunda threw the shield on to the floor and asked me humbly to do to her, in all gentleness and friendship, what I had done in my rage in the forest. The damage had already been done and no obstacle stood in the way. So we embraced each other tenderly after I had kissed her in the Roman way. Not until then did Lugunda get up and fetch healing ointments to rub gently on to my back. It hurt when I remembered to think about it. Just as I was falling into the deepest sleep of my life, I remembered that I had broken my promise to Claudia, but I blamed the full moon and the magic of the Druids. Obviously no man could avoid his predetermined destiny, I thought, inasmuch as I had the strength to think at all. The following day I tried to make immediate preparations to leave, but Lagunda�s father wanted me to go with him to look at the fields, herds, grazing lands and forests he was to set aside for Lugunda and her descendants. This journey took us three days and when we returned, not to be outdone, I gave Lugunda my gold tribune chain. Lagunda�s father seemed to consider this an insignificant wedding present, for when Lugunda had put her hair up he took out a gold necklace as thick as a child�s wrist and put it around his daughter�s neck. Such necklaces are worn only by the queens and most noble women in Britain. From all this even I, numb- skull that I was, realized that Lugunda was of more noble lineage than I had ever imagined, so noble that her father did not even have to boast about it. Petro explained that if I had not been a Roman knight and son of a senator, I should have had a sword run through me and certainly not the family battle shield put over my sore back.
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I had both my Iceni father-in-law and Petro�s position as sacrificial priest, physician and judge to thank for the fact that I escaped being accused of witchcraft as well. The noble British youth who had attacked me with his fists out of jealousy broke his neck that same moonlit night when his horse at full gallop shied away from some unknown animal and sent him hurtling headfirst at a stone. Of course I was occasionally tormented by the thought of the promise I had given to Claudia and so reluctantly broken, and also by a painful feeling that Lugunda was not really my lawfully wedded wife since in my thoughts I could not regard my British marriage as legally binding. But I was young. My body, for so long disciplined, was completely bewildered by Lagunda�s caresses mid tenderness, and day after day I postponed my inevitable departure to Colchester. But one tires more quickly of an excess of physical satisfaction than of self-control. Soon we began to irritate one another, Lagunda and I, exchanging angry words and agreeing only in bed. When I at last began my return journey, I felt as if I had been freed from shackles or a spell. Yes, I flew like a bird from its cage and did not reproach myself for an instant that I had deserted Lugunda. She had only had her own way. She would have to be satisfied with that, I thought. Vespasian excused me from military exercises and tribune staff duties, and I rewrote my book on Britain from start to finish. I had rid myself of the enchantment of that first summer and now described everything as lucidly and factually as I could. I no longer saw the Britons in the same rosy light, and even made fun of some of their customs. I acknowledged Julius Caesar�s contribution to the civilizing of Britain, but verified, for instance, that the god Augustus� treaty with the Brigantes in the eyes of the Brigantes themselves constituted nothing but a friendly �exchange of gifts. They considered they had received more than they needed to give, as long as they remained peaceful. On the other hand, I gave Emperor Claudius full credit for having southern Britain in the Roman Empire, and Aulus Plautius for bringing about peace. Vespasian himself asked me not to say too much about his own merits. He was still waiting in vain for
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a new procurator or commander-in-chief and did not wish to stir up ill feeling in Rome with praise of himself. �I am neither clever enough nor deceitful enough to adapt myself to the changed circumstances there, and so would prefer to stay in Britain, without unnecessary reminders of my merits, than to return to my former poverty in Rome,� he explained. I already knew that Emperor Claudius had not kept the oath he had once sworn before the Praetorian Guard to the goddess Fides, his right hand covered with a white cloth. Some months after Messalina�s death, he had explained that he could not live without a wife and had chosen the most noble woman in Rome as his consort, his own niece Agrippina, the same person whose son Lucius Domitius had once sought my friendship. New laws permitting incest were necessary for this marriage, but the Senate had willingly obliged. The most farsighted of the senators had begged Claudius to take back his sacred promise and benefit the state by marrying again. In Rome everything had been turned upside-down in a very short time. Vespasian was being careful not to burn his fingers in this mess. �Agrippina is a beautiful and wise woman,� he said. �She will certainly have learned much from the bitter experiences of her youth and her first two marriages. I only hope shell be a good stepmother to Britannicus. Then she won�t abandon my son Titus, although I made the mistake of leaving him with Messalina when I went to war.�
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Vespasian realized that with the completion of my book, I had had enough of Britain and was longing to return to Rome. The book had to be copied. I myself was restless and uncertain. More and more, as the spring in Britain bloomed, I was reminded of Lugunda. After the feast of Flora, I received a letter in London, written on bark in faulty Latin. In it stood the hope that I should soon return to the Iceni country to take my newborn son on my knee. This astounding news terminated my longing for Lugunda abruptly, and instead roused in me a burning desire to see Rome again. I was still young enough to think that I could rid myself of guilt by changing abode. Vespasian kindly gave me a courier�s plaque and several letters to take to Rome. Ignoring the high winds, I boarded the ship and on the journey vomited the whole of Britain into the foaming salt sea. More dead than alive, I landed in Gaul, and there is no more to tell about Britain. But I decided never to return there before it was possible to do so on foot. This is one of the decisions of my life I have been able to keep to.
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BOOK 4
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Claudia
It is wonderful to be eighteen when one has risen to the rank of tribune, feels loved by the whole world and can read faultlessly one�s first work to a knowledgeable audience. It was as if Rome, like myself, were experiencing her most wonderful spring; as if her poisoned air had been cleansed when the noble, elegant Agrippina had succeeded the youthful Messalina as Claudius� wife. Living a gay life was no longer fashionable. Morals had become purer, for it was said that Agrippina, whenever Claudius was capable of it, sent for the rolls of both knights and senators and ruthlessly struck off the names of all those who were known for their immoral way of life or were guilty in other ways. Claudius, as usual, saw to his office of Censor, sighing heavily at his duties but gratefully accepting suggestions from a good and politically experienced woman. Thanks to her, Claudius also attempted to pull himself together. His freedmen, especially his secretary Narcissus and treasurer, Procurator Pallas, were once again in his good graces. Pallas, exhausted by the demands of his office, was forced to consult with the indefatigable Agrippina for nights on end. When I myself met Agrippina again, I thought she had acquired a new gentleness and beauty. She took the trouble to take me with her to the school at Palatine, summoning Vespasian�s son Titus to her and caressing her stepson, Britannicus, gently on the head. Britannicus seemed sullen and withdrawn for his nine years, but that was not surprising, as he missed his beautiful mother a great deal and not even the most loving attentions from a stepmother could compensate. When we left, Agrippina told me that Britannicus, to the sorrow of his father, suffered from epilepsy and so could not do physical exercises. The boy was especially affected at full moon and needed careful watching. Even more enthusiastically, Agrippina took me to a sunny part of Palatine to see her own family, the handsome, dashing Lucius