Roman - The Fall of Britannia (7 page)

‘
My
father didn’t talk much about his time in the legions,’ said
Cassus.

‘
No,
perhaps he didn’t,’ said Marcus. ‘By the end of our time, I think
we were all glad to see the back of it.’

‘
What is Primus Pilus?’ asked Prydain from his own
cot.

‘
Only the most senior Centurion in the legion,’ Cassus
sneered. He turned to Marcus, ‘He is a freedman,’ he explained ‘and
doesn’t know about such things.’

Marcus turned to
Prydain.

‘
The
Primus Pilus was in charge of the first Century and overall
commander of the entire Cohort during any battle,’ he explained.
‘You don’t get that high without being something special. If he had
stayed on after his twenty-five years, he would have been given the
position of Praefectus Castrorum, camp prefect. Third in command of
the entire legion, but like the rest of us, he just wanted to get
his pension and go home. Anyway, enough about us oldies, what do
you young bloods intend to do while you are in Rome?’

‘
We
don’t really know,’ said Cassus, ‘but bearing in mind it could be a
long time before we have any freedom, we want to make the best of
it.’

‘
Well, you’ve come to the best place,’ said Marcus. ‘Do you
have money?’

‘
We
do.’

‘
Then let me enlighten you.’

For the next
hour, Marcus gave the enthralled boys the benefit of his knowledge
of the eternal city, where to go and where to avoid.

‘
Avoid fish,’ he said on the subject of food. ‘We have emptied
the sea of fish for miles around and any available will have
travelled days to get to the restaurants. Even those who are lucky
enough to buy fresh from the river, keep them for their best
clients. No, don’t eat fish unless you want to spend the next two
days on the shitter.’

‘
I’ll bear that in mind,’ grimaced Cassus, ‘what about the
taverns?’

‘
I’ll give you the names of the best,’ said Marcus. ‘They are
a little more expensive, but they don’t water the wine.’

‘
And
women?’ asked Cassus.

Marcus
laughed.

‘
I
wondered when you would ask.' It depends what you are after. You
are hardly going to meet and get anywhere with nice girls in two
nights, so if it is a relationship you want, forget it. If however
you just want some fun, then the options are endless.’

‘
I
hear the best places are the arches beneath the Circus Maximus,’
said Cassus quickly. ‘It is said you can buy any sort of woman you
can imagine there.’

Marcus smiled a
grim smile.

‘
This is true,’ he said, ‘the diversity and skills of some who
lurk in its shadows; especially those of eastern descent are beyond
imagination.’ He paused, his mind seemingly elsewhere as if
recalling a distant pleasant memory. ‘However,’ he said suddenly
returning to the present, ‘tread carefully, the streets are
dangerous to waifs such as you.’

‘
We
can look after ourselves,’ said Cassus defensively.

‘
No
offence, young man,’ said Marcus, ‘but your inexperience in those
streets will shine like a lantern to a moth. Not only are you
likely to get a dose of the pox and your purses stolen, but you
will probably get your heads caved in for good measure. The pimps
in particular are especially vicious down there.’

‘
I
thought the streets of Rome were safe,’ said Cassus.

‘
Safe,’ sneered Marcus, ‘why do you think I spent my pension
on a tavern outside of the city walls? I can look after myself, but
even I, after ten years of soldiering across the known world, would
rather go back to the forests of Gaul, than walk the streets of
Rome by night.’

‘
What about the Vigils, I thought they policed the streets
after dark.’

‘
It
is just as likely to be their clubs that do the crushing as any
pimp’s cudgel,’ said Marcus. ‘In fact, most Vigils are in the
pocket of the pimps and look the other way for a fee, especially if
you are a stranger.’

‘
So
the city is lawless, then?’

‘
No,
not lawless. If there is a fight, there are the Urban Cohorts or
the Praetorian Guard who deal with any disturbance. It’s just that
in the thick of things, one skull looks pretty much like another to
those overpaid pompous shits and there is only one winner in those
fights. No, the best thing is to avoid them at all costs, and if
you can’t and end up in front of a magistrate, you had better hope
your father is drowning in Denarii or you could end up mining for
salt to flavour the Emperor’s meal.’

‘
But
we are citizens,’ countered Prydain. ‘Surely we have
rights?’

‘
Did
your fathers teach you nothing?’ sneered Marcus. ‘One word from a
magistrate and you could end up as cat food in the arena, citizen
or not. Take my word for it, keep your snotty noses clean, pay your
dues and have fun, but for your own sakes, stay away from
trouble.’

The two boys
looked at each other in concern. Marcus laughed out
loud.

‘
Don’t look so worried,’ he said. ‘All I am saying is to be
careful. All taverns have waitresses and most will take great
pleasure in relieving you of your Denarii, for an hour or two of
their company. Just stay to the ones I recommend and mention my
name to the landlord. He will make sure that the ladies in question
are clean and reasonably priced.’

‘
Anyway,’ he continued, ‘about other matters; where is the
Ninth garrisoned at the moment?’

‘
They have just moved from the Germanic forests to northern
Gaul to prepare for the invasion.’

‘
How
do you intend to get there?’

‘
There’s a fleet leaving in a few days taking supplies to
General Plautius. We were told we could get on one of the
warships.’

‘
Up
the Atlantic coast on a Trireme?’ laughed Marcus. ‘Interesting
choice. Not one I would have made, but you may get there I
suppose.’

‘
What do you mean?’ asked Cassus.

‘
Think about it, our war ships are designed for the calm
waters of the Mare Nostrum, yet even here, many struggle to stay
afloat. The Atlantic has seas a hundred fold worse and yet you
intend to trust your souls to a floating box, heavy with stores in
a rabid sea and at the whim of a probably drunken failed soldier at
the helm.’

‘
What would you suggest?’ asked Prydain. ‘It’s a long way to
walk.’

Marcus thought
for a moment.

‘
I
have an idea,’ he said, ‘I have to check a few things, but if my
timing is right, I have a friend who can take you almost all of the
way there in a far safer ship. The only thing is you will have to
get to a place called Narbonensis across the Mare Nostrum to board
her.

‘
Why?’ asked Cassus. ‘Does she not sail from
Ostia?’

‘
Let’s just say the captain is not welcome here at the
moment,’ he said standing up. ‘Anyway, I must go, I will have a
bowl of hot water sent up so you can wash the road from your faces
and then you can join me for a meal before you lay waste to Rome’s
wine and women. I will have the details of my contact before you
leave in the morning.’

----

An hour later, a
quiet knock on the door stirred Cassus from his alcohol induced
slumber. The boy who had dealt with the horses stood in the
doorway.

‘
The
master said that the Cena will be served in fifteen
minutes.’

‘
Thank you,’ said Cassus, and threw a Caligae at the snoring
Prydain. ‘Wake up Prydain,’ he said. ‘Come on, food is ready and
I’m starving.’

The two boys
swilled their faces and wet down their hair before changing their
clothes. Cassus donned an expensive blue dyed tunic, while
Prydain’s was a clean yet greying garment patched with several
repairs. They walked down the stairs and the boy directed them into
a side room. At the centre was a large wooden table surrounded by
eight chairs. Six were occupied and it was obvious that the company
were waiting for the arrival of the two young men.

‘
Ah,
there you are,’ said Marcus, ‘meet my family. This is Maria my wife
and her parents from the Bruttium region in the south.’

‘
Ave,’ said Cassus, nodding his head to the guests in
greeting.

‘
Ave.’ they responded.

‘
And
these are my children, my son, Titus, and daughter,
Aula.’

The children
were obviously twins, and approximately the same age as the servant
boy standing in the doorway.

‘
And
this one?’ asked Prydain.

‘
Oh,
we never got around to actually naming him, we call him
boy.’

‘
I
take it he is a slave?’ ventured Prydain.

‘
He
is,’ confirmed Marcus. ‘Maria found him abandoned as a baby at the
side of the road and we took him in. Fret not, Prydain, he is well
cared for. Many such as he are abandoned everyday by those who
cannot afford another child, or have borne the wrong sex to a
demanding father. Most perish or are picked up by pimps. He is one
of the lucky ones and earns his keep by serving us around the
house. Anyway, please sit and join my family in our evening meal. A
banquet it may not be, but you will find it honest and
filling.’

‘
We’re having meat!’ exclaimed Aula excitedly, earning a
gentle smile from Maria.

‘
These are hard times,’ interrupted Marcus, repeating what
seemed to be his favourite mantra, ‘and meat is reserved for
special occasions, but today, we have killed a pig in honour of
your visit. Never let it be said that my hospitality was refused to
the son of an old friend.’

Marcus glanced
at Maria who suppressed a self-satisfied smile. Cassus guessed that
she had something to do with the decision to kill the pig and if
Marcus had his way, they would be eating fruit and boiled
barley.

‘
We
are honoured,’ said Cassus ‘and my father will hear of
it.’

‘
You
are more than welcome, Cassus,’ said Maria, ‘and you too Prydain.
Shall we start?’ She nodded to the boy who disappeared through a
side door, returning a few moments later, struggling to carry a
double handled amphora, closely followed by two more child servants
bearing trays of food. The boy poured everyone a tankard of white
wine, including the children. This time, the tankards were of
silver, and engraved with a detailed hunting scene.

‘
Beautiful,’ said Cassus, examining the
craftsmanship.

‘
A
souvenir from Gaul,’ explained Maria. ‘Marcus bought them when he
was in the army. Apparently, they were very expensive.’

‘
Indeed, ’said Cassus and glanced over at Marcus whose stare
silently warned him not to delve too deep into their history.
Cassus was well aware that Roman soldiers were often allowed to
supplement their pension; with whatever bounty they could loot
after defeating an enemy and wondered what had become of the
tankard’s previous owner. Perhaps it was better not to
know.

The servants
laid a tray of mixed salad in the centre of the table, consisting
of crisp lettuce leaves and whole radish, interspersed with green
and black olives. The whole thing formed a nest within which,
nestled twelve hard-boiled duck eggs. A second tray was added
containing two neat rows of Libae, the soft small rolls that were
familiar on every table of Rome. A silver bowl completed the meal
and Maria triumphantly removed the lid.

‘
Garum,’ she said to the obvious approval of all
present.

Each person at
the table filled their beaten copper plates with a mixture of salad
and eggs, before ladling varying amounts of the thick sauce over
their meal as a dressing. The Garum, despite being made from
heavily salted and fermented fish entrails, was a particular
favourite of most Romans, and was served at most meals.

The starters
were soon cleared and before the main course was brought in, hand
bowls were provided to wash their sticky fingers. Ornate bowls of
Artichokes, whole cloves of roasted garlic and diced stewed marrow
were spread around the table before a wooden platter, containing
thick slabs of roast pork was placed in the centre, the steam rose
to the beamed ceiling and causing mouths to water in
anticipation.

‘
Please everyone, help yourselves,’ said Maria before casting
a disapproving glance over at Marcus, whose eyes betrayed the fact
that he was calculating how much all this would cost
him.

The main course
was delicious and the boys ate ravenously, interspersing greasy
mouthfuls with complimentary belches, much to the satisfaction of
Maria. As the meal progressed, the awkwardness eased and
conversation flowed.

‘
Boy, bring red wine,’ called Marcus noticing the tankards
were empty. He had seemingly accepted the fact that this was going
to be an expensive night and had fully embraced the
occasion.

‘
But
I thought you wanted me only use the cheapest,’ said the boy,
confused at the contradictory instruction.

‘
Cheapest wine? Don’t be absurd,’ countered Marcus. ‘Bring the
best red.’