‘I apologise for speaking in my tongue in the hall, but there are those amongst my people who tend to regard my understanding of Latin as a sign of treachery rather than a useful skill. That is why I had Vellocatus translate most of my words.’
‘And how do your people regard Vellocatus, your majesty?’ asked Otho.
She smiled at her husband’s shield-bearer. ‘He is young and of little importance and so is easily forgotten. In time, he will take a prominent role in our nation, but for now his command of your tongue is a vice that most are prepared to overlook.’ Cartimandua turned back to the tribune and the brief look of pleasure in her expression faded and was replaced by the implacable face of a queen.
‘I have honoured my agreement with Rome. Caratacus will become your prisoner. I would be obliged if you removed him from my lands as swiftly as possible once the feast is over.’
‘Then why give him the feast?’ Macro asked bluntly and then registered the sharp intake of breaths before he swallowed and continued in a more respectful tone, ‘I apologise, your majesty. I meant to say, why not just hand him over to us right now and send us on our way?’
‘I wish it were so easy, Roman. To tell the truth, his unwelcome arrival at Isurium has been a source of considerable difficulty for me. I understand he managed to escape from inside your general’s camp the night after the battle in which you defeated and captured him.’
‘That is true,’ Otho conceded. He indicated Cato. ‘This officer was in charge of guarding the prisoners.’
‘You’re the fool responsible?’
Cato stiffened at the accusation and insult, and he sensed Macro bristling at his side. He took a calming breath before he responded. ‘I captured him on the battlefield and the general charged me with looking after the prisoner as a reward for the deed.’
‘And yet he escaped. How very careless of you. One would think that so dangerous an opponent might be looked after more diligently,’ Cartimandua said with heavy irony. ‘So you will understand my disappointment with your general when Caratacus arrived in my court demanding protection, as well as taking the opportunity to call on my people to join him in a new war against Rome.’
Otho shifted on his stool. ‘He was helped to escape. Someone betrayed us.’
‘That’s your concern not mine. Except that it has become my concern. Especially when Caratacus has talked my consort into supporting his appeal for the Brigantes to go to war. Fortunately my people have a more mercenary nature than most. They won’t fight unless they are promised gold and silver. Their loyalty to me can be bought for the same reason. As a result, I have all but exhausted the treasure advanced to me by your Emperor to keep the peace with Rome. That is the only reason why I have not been deposed by Venutius and his faction. If Rome wants to keep things that way then I shall need more coin.’
Cato grasped the point at once. ‘You want a reward for Caratacus, your majesty?’
Her gaze turned to Cato and her eyes narrowed fractionally as she reappraised him. ‘Of course. An alliance places obligations on both parties, Prefect.’
‘As far as I understand it, Rome pays you to stay neutral. Handing Caratacus over would seem to satisfy that condition.’
‘You bought our neutrality. There was no mention of acting as jailers on your behalf. That will cost you a little extra. I shall want payment for Caratacus.’
‘Now just hang on,’ Poppaea butted in. ‘A treaty is a treaty. Who do you think you are to change that? Some jumped-up barbarian woman, is what. How dare you?’
Cartimandua glanced at her before addressing her husband. ‘Women are respected amongst our people. That is why I am queen. I realise that the very idea of a female ruler causes you Romans acute discomfort. Even your women share that view. But we are not in Rome. We are in Isurium. I would be grateful if you respected our customs.’
Poppaea opened her mouth to renew her protest, but Otho shushed her and instead she clenched her jaw and glared down at her feet. Her husband addressed the queen in an emollient tone.
‘Your majesty, I shall take your request for payment back to General Ostorius. That is the best I can do.’
‘It’s not enough,’ Cartimandua countered. ‘I want a hundred thousand denarians for Caratacus and I want you to set your seal to a document stating those terms before you leave Isurium with your prisoner.’
‘A hundred thousand denarians?’ Tribune Otho shook his head in astonishment. ‘By the gods, I can tell you now that the general will never agree to that.’
‘Why not? It is the price of peace in your province, and cheaply bought when you consider the possibility of a renewed onslaught by Caratacus, with thousands of my warriors at his back.’
Cato saw that his superior was momentarily speechless and he cleared his throat and intervened. ‘Your majesty, the presence of Caratacus at your court is as much a problem for you as it is for us. You said so yourself. In which case, it could be argued that our taking him into custody is doing you a favour. If we were to leave him here, how long do you think your reign might endure?’
Cartimandua fixed him with a steely glare and then gave a light laugh and turned to Otho. ‘Oh, he’s a shrewd one, your prefect. And he is right, to a point. I want Caratacus removed as soon as possible. He’s undermined my position enough since he arrived here. And it has cost me dearly to buy the loyalty of my people thus far. At the very least, I should be reimbursed for what I have paid out for the sake of preserving peace with Rome.’
Macro chuckled. ‘Not to mention for the sake of preserving your place on the throne, your majesty.’
She shot him a withering look. ‘This one, I do not like, Tribune. He lacks the sense to phrase things palatably. Kindly order him not to address me again.’
Macro’s cheeks flushed angrily and he leaned forward to protest, but Cato raised a hand and gave him an imploring look. With a hiss Macro subsided and clamped his lips together.
‘That’s better,’ Cartimandua continued. ‘Now then, we were discussing the price for Caratacus. I am not unreasonable. Shall we say ninety thousand?’
Otho thought for a moment and shook his head. ‘Sixty.’
Cato winced and could not help wishing Macro’s mother, Portia, was haggling on their behalf. The sharp-minded old woman had a knack for it, unlike the young aristocrat.
‘Eighty?’
Otho chewed his lip. ‘Seventy-five.’
‘Seventy-five it is, then.’ Cartimandua nodded. ‘I shall want that within two months and you will put it in writing, along with your seal, before you leave Isurium. Agreed?’
Otho nodded helplessly.
‘Then our business is complete, and we are free to enjoy the feast tonight.’
‘Must it be in Caratacus’s honour?’ asked Cato.
‘Indeed it must. For the sake of appearances. He is a king, at least until tomorrow. Many of my nobles and their warriors hold him in high regard. It would anger them if I simply handed him over to you in chains. Instead he has been treated as an honoured guest. The feast permits us to maintain that illusion. The truth is he was a prisoner the moment he showed his face at my court.’
‘And you are certain there is no real danger from the those who support his cause, your majesty?’
‘None. Whatever they think of Caratacus you can be sure they think rather more highly of the coin they have been paid from my treasury. The feast is a matter of form. I will play the part of a generous host and win the respect of my people. They will be able to toast him and glory in his deeds without the frightening prospect of having to shed their blood for him. Honour is satisfied all round.’ She paused and folded her hands together in her lap. ‘Of course, the question of the price to be paid for the prisoner will remain a secret between myself and Rome. That would be best for both of us.’
‘I understand, your majesty.’
‘Then we have an agreement?’
‘We do,’ Otho reaffirmed.