Both of her handsome brothers nodded in support then since neither really intended to turn back at Massilia, they both skulked off out of the way.
Nobody seemed to need me. I got my head down in my work. I tied a long string to my daughter Julia so she could clamber about the deck in safety (and trip up sailors). Nux, a first-time sailor, whined a lot then lay on my legs. I rolled up the new baby in a warm papoose and kept her under my cloak against my chest. Then I sat on the deck with my feet up on an anchor, studying my notes from the Palatine secretariat which administered funds for the Great King's palace.
As usual with otBcial projects, where the client had the highest expectations and the producing agency had the greatest need to shine, the larger were the errors and the higher the costs. Treasury audit had been applied and had nothing good to say. Loss of materials on site had reached epic proportions. There had also been a rash of serious accidents. Even the scheme's architect had submitted a scared report about his fears of sabotage.
Frontinus, the provincial governor, reckoned the programme completion date had not just slipped, it had skidded right into the next decade. He was having difficulties curbing the client's demands and possessed no decent manpower to send in on a rescue mission, due to conflicting needs of the major new works being built in Londinium (that was principally the new headquarters for the provincial governor himself). Brutal paragraphs in administrative Greek spelled out the worst. The Great King's palace had reached the danger stage: it was all set to be the biggest administrative failure ever.
IX
luck is a wonderful luxury. What could better prove that some are born under a star of good fortune than the career (and the large, comfortable home) of the Great King?
"Cogidumnus. "Justinus cautiously tried it out.
"Togidubnus," I corrected him. This was a provincial of such ripe insignificance that most Roman commentators never even called him by the correct name. "Learn it, please, lest we offend. The Emperor may be our principal client, but Togi is the end customer. Pleasing Togi is the whole point of us suffering this trip. Vespasian wants his house to go up nicely so that Togi stays happy."
"You had better stop calling him Togi," warned Helena, 'or you are bound to slip up and insult him in public."
"Insulting officials is my style."
"But you want your assistants to be smoothly oiled diplomats."
"Ah yes. I have the rough edges you are a pair of sickly smarm pots!" I threw at them.
We had been stuck at some mansio in the drabber parts of Gaul when we found time for our tutorial. Hyspale had been instructed to stop moaning about her discomfort (she had the art of making herself unhappy) and to take care of the children. So Helena was able to shine as my background researcher. Luckily her brothers (yes, both) were used to being lectured by their big sister. I myself would never quite
relax when she started explaining things. Helena Justina could always m
surprise me by the scope of her sources and the detail they provided.
We had fetched up here after days of weary travel. The children seemed to be coping better than the rest of us, though Helena and I
had the irritation of disapproval from foreigners. While Gauls were amazed how strict we were with our daughters, we thought them slapdash spoilers of their own uncontrollable brats. Some of theirs had fleas. Ours, swept off into kitchens to be cooed over for their pretty curls, would acquire them soon. Nux was attacking her Roman ones vigorously. I had had itches since Lugdunum, though if the creatures were being carried on my person I had failed to find them. That was because I had rarely had my clothes off to search. Mansios had baths, but if you tarried in the queue to wash, you missed them serving dinner. Afterwards, the water was cold. With ruts in roads and gruesome weather, it added to the fun.
We all sat around a large table in the dingy hall that passed for a communal dining room at the mansio, with my sister hunched slightly to one side. Maia had been sufficiently alarmed by what she saw of the ship's crew who hauled us north past Italy; she refused to go back to Ostia alone. She had never travelled more than twenty miles from Rome before. When we made Gaul, she had no real idea how many dreary miles remained. She still thought she would be going home in a few weeks. We would be lucky even to reach Britain in that time.
Helena had 'found' a letter 'hidden' in her luggage from Marius, explaining that it was the children who had decided to send their mother away to safety. Maia believed Petronius Longus must have helped them, and that it was a ploy to steal her children now his own were with Silvia. Maia sat around the whole journey, planning to poison him with toad's blood. We stopped trying to include her in conversations.
"Our uncle Gaius has sent me some information about the area and the project," said Helena briskly. "You two boys have never met him. You have to pretend this is being expounded by a neat, enthusiastic, lifelong administrator who has a huge knowledge of his province and insists on telling you everything'
Gaius Flavius Hilaris was married to their aunt, a quiet, intelligent woman called Aelia Camilla. He was currently at the end of a long term as financial procurator in Britain. As far as we could tell he had no intention of retiring back to Rome. He had been a provincial, born in Dalmatia, so Rome had never been his home base anyway. He worked like a dog and was absolutely straight. Helena and I both liked him enormously.
"Imagine Britain as a rough triangle." Helena had a letter in her hand, so well studied she hardly referred to it. "We are going to the middle of the long south coast. Elsewhere there are high chalk cliffs, but this area has a gentle coastline with safe anchorages in inlets. There are some streams and marshland, but also wooded places for hunting and enough good farming land to attract settlers. The tribes have come down from their hill forts peacefully here. Noviomagus Regnensis -the New Market of the Kingdom Tribes- is a small town on the modern model."
"What makes this different from any other tribal capital?" asked Aelianus.
"Togidubnus."
"So what makes him special?1
"Not a lot!" I grunted.
Helena shot me a mock-severe look. "Convenient birth and mighty friends." With her serious air allied to a light-hearted tone, she could make plain facts sound satirical.
"Would he introduce me to his friends?"Justinus said, grinning.
"Nobody with any taste would let you near their friends!" Aelianus snorted.
"Has Togi good taste?"
"No, just top pals and a lot of money," I said.
"His taste may be exquisite," Helena murmured. "Or he may simply employ advisers who know class. He is able to call on all types of specialist '
"Who charge huge fees and know how to spend lavishly," I grumbled. "Then Togi gets our famously frugal Emperor to foot the bill. No wonder Vespasian wants me there. I bet the invoices for this pretty pavilion need scrutinising at arm's length using blacksmith's tongs."
Helena Justina was a dogged lass. With only a slight rattle of bracelets to reproach me, she tried to reassert sense. Too much tetchy prejudice was rampaging through this group of exhausted travellers. "Togidubnus straddles the transition where barbarian Britain became a new Roman province. Once, thirty years ago, his tribe, the Atrebates, had an old king called Verica who was under pressure from rivals- the fierce Catuvellauni who were marauding across the southern interior."
"Fighting fellows." To the fore in the Great Rebellion when I was there. "Good haters and encroachers. Boudicca was not their queen, but they galloped after her with panache. The Catuvellauni would follow a dung beetle into battle, if it led them to some other tribe's arable and pasture land- better still, to slicing off Roman heads."