The power of speech failed Macro for an instant before he swallowed nervously and cleared his throat. ‘Boudica. .’
CHAPTER SIX
‘Queen Boudica, as it happens.’ She affected an aloofness that was betrayed by the smile that she could not suppress.
‘Queen?’ Macro frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I am the wife of Prasutagus, and so queen of the Iceni nation. I assume that you, too, have risen in status since we last saw each other. No longer the centurion we once knew.’
Macro shook his head. ‘Centurion Macro still, though I am more senior than I was.’
Boudica stepped away from the bar and made for the side of her husband and took his hand. ‘We are pleased to see you again.’
The two Roman officers exchanged looks with the rulers of the Iceni tribe, and for a moment no one spoke as memories of shared hardships and dangers flooded back into their minds. Macro felt a deeper pang of loss as he gazed at the woman whose affections he had once known, when Boudica had been no more than the wayward daughter of an Iceni nobleman. At length Prasutagus could maintain his regal aloofness no longer and let out a hearty bellow of mirth, before surging forward and throwing his arms round Macro in a rib-cracking embrace of friendship.
‘Hah! It is good to see you again, Roman! Too many years have passed.’
Macro clasped the giant’s arms and eased himself free of the powerful grip. He took a deep breath before he responded. ‘I see you’ve picked up a bit more Latin since last time.’
‘It is well to speak the tongue of your friend,’ Prasutagus responded, his accent heavy but his words readily comprehensible. He turned to Cato and grasped his hand and smiled warmly. ‘And you, Cato. Still as cunning and brave, I think.’ He tapped the scar that ran down from Cato’s forehead. ‘The mark of a warrior, eh?’
‘The mark of a man who did not get out of the way of a blade in time, more like,’ Cato replied with a smile.
His wife approached and looked Cato over with a slight expression of concern. ‘You were little more than a youth when last we met. Now you look more like Macro did then.’
‘What?’ Macro interrupted. ‘Then what do I look like now?’
Boudica scrutinised him. ‘Your face is more lined, and there is grey in your hair, but you are still the same Macro I knew. Which is as well. It is good to see an old friend. .’ Her tone became more serious. ‘Friendship is needed now more than ever. Relations between Rome and the Iceni are fragile. I take it you are aware of our recent history?’
‘We heard about the rebellion,’ said Cato. ‘It is a pity.’
‘Pity?’ Prasutagus’s eyebrows knitted together. ‘It was a tragedy. A betrayal of the bond between our people and Rome. Ostorius demanded we surrender weapons, even after I gave my word of honour that we hold true to our alliance with the Emperor. Some gave up weapons. Others did not and died with sword in hand.’ Prasutagus lowered his gaze. ‘They were fools, but brave fools. Perhaps. .’
‘You did the right thing.’ Boudica squeezed his hand. ‘You survived and now you serve the Iceni people. They need you.’
Prasutagus shrugged. Cato sensed his wounded honour but could not help the urge to discover the full story. ‘So, how did you come to be King?’
‘I was one of the few who had no part in the rebellion. I was too sick to fight alongside my brothers. So when it was over, the governor chose me to replace the old king. He was killed in the battle.’
‘I see. I am sure that Ostorius’s choice was wise.’ Cato turned and gestured towards their table. ‘Would you care to drink with us? That is Macro’s mother, and the others are comrades from the army.’
‘Macro’s mother?’ Boudica cocked an eyebrow. ‘Now there’s someone I would be fascinated to talk to.’
But Prasutagus was staring coldly at the two tribunes and shook his head. ‘Another day, my friends. When we can speak freely to each other.’
Pellinus flushed at the words and stood up. He addressed Cato. ‘Thank you for the drink, sir. We are expected back at headquarters and have to beg our leave of you now.’
The other tribune looked surprised, but then caught on and nodded in agreement. They bowed their heads to Portia and left the inn, without acknowledging the Iceni rulers. There was a strained silence before Boudica spoke again.
‘You know about the assembly of the tribes, I take it?’
‘Yes. We’ll be part of the governor’s retinue.’
‘I see.’ Some of the warmth had drained from her voice. ‘Then we shall see you there, or perhaps somewhere on the road.’
‘We look forward to it. Now, how about that drink? We’ve a lot to catch up on.’
Boudica was about to reply when her husband broke in with, ‘Another time. Somewhere less. . Roman. Come.’ He took Boudica’s arm and gently steered her towards the door. Prasutagus growled a command to his warriors and they withdrew across the inn to join them before the small party quit the inn and closed the door behind them.
Macro shrugged sadly. ‘Is that the way it has to be between us? So soon after we meet them again?’
‘Time takes its toll in many ways, old friend,’ Cato said kindly.
Macro glared at him. ‘Old? Fuck off. Let’s get back to our wine. Least we don’t have to share it with those freeloading tribunes now.’
They returned to the bench and sat down opposite Portia. Cato raised the jug, frowned at its lightness and shook it. A faint slop of liquid sounded from inside. He refilled Macro’s cup and tipped what was left into his own before raising it in a toast in an effort to restore some cheer to the atmosphere.
‘Here’s to your new business. I’m sure it will be a great success from the amount of passing trade that seems to come through the door.’
Portia raised her cup half-heartedly. ‘It would be more of a success if some of the trade actually stayed for a drink.’
Cato glanced into the dregs of his cup. ‘Or even bought a round or two.’
‘So where are these troublemakers, then?’ a voice called out from the direction of the counter and Cato turned to see a burly, grey-haired man emerge from the door leading to the storeroom. The serving girl anxiously peered round from behind his back. The innkeeper glanced round the room where his customers were drinking peacefully, then turned on the serving girl. ‘Well?’
She flinched back towards the door and he cuffed her hard about the head. ‘Stop wasting my time, you stupid bitch! Get in there and stoke up the cooking fire!’
The girl reeled from the blow and then hunched down and scurried away to do her master’s bidding.
Cato nodded towards the man. ‘The owner, and vendor, of the inn, I take it?’
‘That’s him.’ Portia beckoned to the innkeeper when she caught his eye. ‘Time, I think, to settle the deal, now that my dear son has agreed to invest in my new business.’
‘Invest?’ Macro echoed wryly. ‘It feels more like I’ve been mugged.’
Portia ignored her grumpy son and smiled as the innkeeper made his way over to their table. He moved with the self-assurance of one who was used to command and did not tolerate any subordinate who caused even the least bit of trouble. His hair was thinning but the well-toned physique that had seen him through many a battle was still there. Cato had little doubt that he could swiftly sort out any customers who got out of hand on his premises. As he came close enough for his features to be clearly recognisable, Cato gave a small start of surprise and then called out a greeting.
‘Centurion Gaius Tullius!’
The innkeeper slowed his pace and squinted at his customers, then his expression changed abruptly and he beamed happily.
‘Bugger me, if it ain’t Cato and Macro! What on earth are you two doing here? Thought the Second Legion had seen the back of you years ago.’