"If you want wine, bring it," Garhard said. "You supply your own plates and spoons. I don't want your women whoring for extra coins. It causes too much trouble among the men."
"The women are my wife and her servant," Wulf said quietly. "They do not whore, and if your men look at them askance, or speak to them with disrespect, they will have me to deal with."
"Understood," Garhard replied. "We leave at dawn."
They hurried back to the market, where Cailin purchased newly made wood plates and spoons for them, and a single goblet that they would all share. She found a woman selling freshly stuffed pallets, and bought three along with some blankets.
"We should have a cart," she told her husband. "The mare can pull it, and it will hold our worldly goods. We cannot carry it all. You are used to sleeping upon the ground, but Nellwyn and I are not. And we will need water bags, and a brazier, and charcoal. It is almost winter, Wulf, and the farther north we go, the greater chance there is of snow. A cart will offer us some protection from bad weather and wild animals."
He laughed. "You have been living like a young queen in Byzantium. I would have thought you had forgotten such practical matters, but I see you have not. Come, let us purchase what you think we need."
They left just before dawn the next morning. The two women drove the little cart with its cloth-covered sides and roof. They had carefully packed all their possessions inside, along with extra provisions to supplement the communal pot. The water bags hung from the cart.
The caravan traveled the Roman roads up the spine of Gaul through Arelate, Lugudunum, Augustodunum, and Agedincum, to Durocortorum. They then took the road that turned slightly more north, moving on through Samarobriva, and finally arriving at Gesoriacum, an ancient naval port. It had taken them many weeks to reach their destination. It was already mid-February.
They arranged their next passage with a coastal trader. He would take them across the thirty miles of sea separating Gaul and Britain to the port of Dubris. As the sun rose over Gaul, which now lay behind them, they made landfall in Britain on the morning of February twentieth.
Cailin wept unashamedly. "I did not think I should ever see my native land again," she said, sobbing, as Wulf comforted her.
"We have been traveling for over four months," he said. "Would you not like to rest for a few days now that we are back in Britain?"
Cailin shook her head. "No! I want to go home."
The cart lumbered its way up to Londinium. Cailin looked about her, remembering little of her last visit. Once this place would have awed her, but now it looked insignificant when compared to Constantinople. She was happy to take Stane Street west to Corinium.
When they reached that town of her family's origin, Cailin was shocked. The once thriving Corinium was almost silent, and deserted. Rubbish littered the streets. The buildings were in poor repair. In the amphitheater there were weeds growing between the stone seats, which were cracked and broken. Many houses were locked and empty. It was not as she remembered it.
"What has happened?" she asked Wulf.
He shook his head. "I do not know, except perhaps without a central government, the town cannot maintain itself. Look about you. Most whom we see in the streets are elderly. They stay, obviously, because there is nowhere else for them to go. The market thrives, however. It seems to be the only thing that does."
"But it is mostly foodstuffs," she noted. "There are few other goods for sale. What has happened to trade? And the pottery works?"
"People must eat," he said. "As for the rest, I do not know." He shrugged. "Come, lambkin, we have two more days of traveling before we reach our lands. Let us not dally. We will have Antonia Porcius to contend with, I am certain. She has undoubtedly annexed our lands for herself once more. At least we will know better than to trust her this time. And your Dobunni family will rejoice to learn you are alive."
Their cart moved up the Fosse Way until finally they turned off on a barely discernible tract. It was raining when they made camp that night. They huddled within the cart, listening to the rain on its canvas roof, the small space nicely warmed, as it had all winter long, by the little brazier Cailin had insisted upon. They had seen virtually no one since leaving Corinium, but Wulf insisted on their keeping watch nonetheless.
"We can't afford to lose everything now," he said. "We'll move out before dawn. With any luck, we should reach our hall by mid-afternoon."
It rained again the next day, and huddled upon the bench in the cart, driving the black mare, Cailin realized she had forgotten how damp and chilly an English spring could be. She almost missed the constantly sunny days she had enjoyed in Byzantium, but still she was content to be home, she decided, shivering. Around her the land was familiar once again. Suddenly they topped a hillock and, stopping, Cailin looked down upon her family's lands for the first time in almost three years.
Wulf swore volubly. "The hall is burned!" he said. "Damn Antonia for an interfering bitch! She'll pay for it, I vow!"
"Why did Bodvoc not stop her, I wonder?" Cailin asked.
"I do not know, but I will soon find out. We will have to begin from the beginning once more, lambkin. I am sorry."
"It is not your fault, Wulf," Cailin soothed him. "We will survive this as we have survived all the rest of our dark destiny."
As they made their way down the hillside, Cailin noticed that the fields lay fallow and the orchards were not pruned. What had happened here? She brought her cart to a halt before what had been their little hall. The damage, to her great relief, did not look as bad now that they could see it close up, as it had appeared from the hillside. Their thatched roof had indeed been burned, but as they walked about, Cailin and Wulf could see the heavy beams of the roof were just scorched. The fire pits were intact, and some of their furnishings, battered but repairable, were still there. Much was gone, however, including the heavy oaken doors of the hall. Still, with a new roof they could salvage it.
"We'll have to thatch the roof first," he said.
"We cannot do it ourselves," Cailin answered him. "Where are our slaves and farm workers?" She sighed. "You know the answer to that as well as I do. We will have to go to her and retake our property. Then, too, there is the matter of our child. Antonia is the only one who has the answer to that puzzle, and I will pry it out of her."
"Let us go to the Dobunni first," Wulf suggested. "They will know what has happened. I think we are wiser learning that before we beard Antonia Porcius over these matters. She has obviously driven Bodvoc and Nuala off, or they would have protected our holding."
"Let us bring the cart into the hall," Cailin said. "Then we can take the horses to my grandfather's village. Should anyone pass by, it will seem as if nothing is different here as long as the cart is hidden."
"Do not leave me here alone," Nellwyn begged them. "I am afraid."
"You and I will ride the mare together," Cailin reassured her servant. "The hall is uninhabitable, but soon we will repair it."
They led the black mare into the hall, unhitched her from the cart and pushed the vehicle into a dark corner, where it was obscured from view even to someone entering the half ruin. Then the two women mounted the beast. Cailin rode in front, holding the reins, and Nellwyn behind her, clutching her mistress about her slender waist. Wulf led the mare from the building, and mounting his own animal, they headed off up the hills, across the meadows, and through the woods, to Berikos's Dobunni village.
They knew immediately as they approached the hill fort that something was very wrong. There were no guards posted, and they were able to enter the village unimpeded. The place was deserted, and upon closer inspection, they could see it had been so for some time.