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Nearly three hundred years before Maximus led us through the valley between the Jura mountains and the Alps, Julius Caesar had put down the first uprising of the Celts in that area. Driven by need to escape the invading Germans from across the Rhine, and their own desire to dominate the tribes about, the Helvetii, under the leadership of Orgetorix, left their homeland. Convinced by the self-styled ambassador to the states, with his promises to secure their dominion with his own privately funded army, the Helvetii began two years of preparations for the march out. They gathered enough corn to feed themselves, and seal the goodwill of their neighbors, and personal belongings, for the trek. Then they burned their farms and cities, to leave behind nothing for the Germans to claim, but the land itself.What the Helvetii had been unaware of, was that Orgetorix had conspired with Casticus of the Sequani, just to the north, through the Juras, and Dumnorix of the Aedui, just beyond the Sequani, to seize control of their individual tribes, and thus subjugate the tribes under their combined rulership. When the plan was discovered, Orgetorix was threatened with fiery death, if he did not plead his cause in chains, to the magistrates. He instead chose to fight, gathering his servants and debtors, to use them as a shield. When the governors amassed their own army to take him and mete out justice, Orgetorix died of suspicious causes, the Helvetii believed to be suicide. Regardless, they went ahead with their plans to move beyond their limited land, and joined themselves to the Boii.
In Julius Caesar’s writings, he explained that there were only two routes the Helvetii had by which to leave. The first, and most difficult, was a narrow alley between the Rhone river, and Mount Jura. Only one wagon at a time could get through it, but an overhang rose above it, from which they could be taken by siege. The other way they could take was through the opening of the valley, between the ranges, through Allobrogae territory. There is a ford through the Rhone, which separated the two tribes from one another, with a bridge extending from the city of Genuva to the lands of the Helvetii, and this is the direction the Helvetii settled on. The Allobrogae had just been put to the Roman yoke, yet were still not favorable to their new masters. They had a choice, join with the Helvetii, or let them pass through their lands, by force.
As soon as Caesar heard of it, he set out for Further Gaul, calling for men from the provinces to supplement the one legion that was stationed in the region. Upon his orders, the bridge at Genuva was dismantled, to disallow passage. Despite the entreaty of the Helvetii that they only wanted to pass through, on their way to other places, he refused, for he remembered the assassination of Lucius Cassius, as well as the routing and enslavement of his army by that very tribe. Not to be dissuaded, the Helvetii lashed together bridgework of boats and rafts, or crossed the shallow parts of the Rhone, often at night, on foot and horseback. Caesar beat them back, with spears, arrows, catapults, and whatever machinery was at his disposal, manned by the large group of soldiers, largely made up of the Celts from Northern Gaul.
So the Helvetii turned back, to make their way over the narrow pass, through Sequani land. They begged Dumnorix of the Aedui, former ally of Orgetorix, whom they had punished for planning single domination over them, to treat with the Sequani to let them enter their country. He was popular among the Sequani, and friendly with the Helvetii, as he had married the daughter of Orgetorix, and arranged a trade of slaves between the two tribles. The Sequani would hand over theirs, to ensure that they would not prevent the Helvetii from marching through, and the Helvetii sealed their oath to cause no trouble, by giving over an equal number of captives. Dumnorix, for his part, was eager for a revolution. Upon this news, Caesar made again for Further Gaul, to put down the ravaging of the Aedui, Ambarri, and Allobrogae, by the Helvetii, who had gone through the pass, to make their war. After a long, exhaustive battle, Caesar was victorious, ordering the Helvetii to return to their homeland, and rebuild, to keep the Germans from invading further.
As we passed by those places, I tried to paint the picture of Caesar’s journals in my head. When we bedded for the night at Genuva, Maximus showed me the restored bridge that connected Allobrogae territory to that of the Helvetii, over the Rhone, where it met Lake Lemannus. The supporting trusses of the old bridge, at least, on the side of the river we stood upon, were still of the old timbers that the original builders had used to start with. They were now reinforced with stone, as the Romans had rebuilt it, using their own architectural designs. I questioned Maximus about it, while he related Julius Caesar’s experiences with the Celts.
“Wasn’t he worried they’d try again?”
“Not as soundly as he whipped them, no. They made a bargain to stay here, and fortunately for them, they stuck to it. And while they were extremely courageous, they weren’t nearly as tenacious as the Celts in Britannia, I don’t think.” He grinned widely at me. “We’re still fighting them, there.” I snorted, and fixed my gaze over the lake. The army would be fighting the Caledonii and other tribes for many more years, too. Stopping in mid-stride, as I went to see the inscription Maximus was reading, I realized the full impact of that fact, considering my relationship with the general. For months, it had been somewhat easy to put out of my mind, and concentrate on just being his slave, and at times, his friend, but it struck me then, that when autumn came, he was going to lead me home.
It was possible that we might not even ride through my tiny village, but the reality was, it was on the road to Luguvallium. I knew we were heading that way, Maximus had inquired of Justinius (who had been there, before being stationed with the Felix legions), and me, about it. The general rarely pressed me for details beyond the layout of the land, or what I could remember about the army, and I only gave him general knowledge. For whatever reasons, I still could not bring myself to divulge all. A part of me hoped to see home again. The other half screamed in protest, because there, all secrets would come to light. There were those that still there, that would remember who I was.
There was the other post to consider. He had never mentioned where it could be. My guess was Trimontium, north of Luguvallium, between the two walls, the one built by Hadrian, the other by Antoninus. I could think of no other place where he might be going, that he could possibly need me. Luguvallium was just a bit safer, for it was in Brigante land, and for the most part, other than the most northern of us, they were on peaceful terms with the Romans. Trimontium was located in the lands of the Selgovae, and they were hard-pressed to remain neutral, surrounded as they were, by those tribes that refused to bend knee to Rome. But, Maximus’ record being what it was, and his fame for bringing the Syrians and Germans under control, he was the perfect man to send to try and conquer the tribes, if one looked at it objectively. And it was quite possible, though it was painful to think of, that the trouble in that part of Britannia would force me to choose loyalties.
As I mused, my heart began to grow heavy, again. It seemed strange to me, that a year ago, there would have been no question in my mind, where I belonged, and who my family was. But the faces of those I had come to know and love were replacing those who were little more than memories, and I began to question myself, and what it was that I would want and need in the not-too-distant future. At that point, my purpose was singular- to seal my bargain with Maximus, and repay him the money that had bought me out of the life of a gladiator. After, I would be free to go where I chose, and do as I pleased, beholden to none but the gods. I was just not certain that I wanted to leave the service of the general. In my captivity, he gave me great freedom, unlike any I had known, even before I was taken from Britannia.
As we rode through townships, observed by the inhabitants, it was clear to me, just how much. Among Romans, the sight of me, in breeches and a tunic, armed astride a horse, was quite unusual, particularly since I was in the company of soldiers. I was aware that I was relatively unique in my place, belonging to the general, or no. Those with us were used to it, and as Maximus had said, thought little of it, aside from Macrinus, for whom it continued to be a sore spot. These were Celts though, and I would have thought that to them, it would be a natural thing, like it had been in Julius Caesar’s time, and in my namesake’s. But to the people who peeked at me from their yards and doorways, I was an oddity, all the same. Wide eyes and slack jaws greeted my presence, almost every time, mostly among the female population. They had become as Roman women.
Maximus also led me places I would never have seen, otherwise. Though we stayed mainly to the lower ranges, I could see the Alps very well. Even clothed in summer foliage, except where they were so high, that they were little more than rock, they impressed, and awed. Here and there, brilliant patches of stark white marked the glaciers that never melted, even on the hottest of days. I would have dearly enjoyed going back, and exploring them, one day. I wanted to discover for myself, the secrets the mountains contained. I wanted to roll in the bouquet of sweet meadow flowers, and climb the rocks with ibex and wild horses, then stand at the highest point, and look down on creation, yet still feel tiny, in comparison. Such is the nature of the Celt, to wander the earth, and see its wonders. We can settle in one place, and call it home, but in our hearts, we are nomads. Traveling with the general fulfilled that desire.
As we had in Hispania, we kept an eye out for bands of roving thieves, as we neared Germania. I was especially on guard, for Livius’ reach was long, and Tigris had not been sure just to what length it extended. I was far more calm than I had been when we left our host in Lugdunum, but always alert, and never alone. That outlaws would attack a party of over a hundred was in doubt, but those that had it wore armor, and all kept arms close. I watched the dogs and horses; they would warn us of unwanted visitors before we ever detected them.
Lacus Brigantinus was fed by, and drained into, the Rhine. At the southern half, we stopped, before crossing over into Germania, the day after. Where we bedded was lined by thick forest, but the soil was rich, perfect for growing crops. As the humans set up sleeping quarters and cook fires, and rubbed down mounts and grazed them, the dogs decided it was their occupation to roam about, and see what sort of trouble they could get into.
Justinius helped me erect the general’s tent. Maximus normally did that, but he was busy examining the bridge and deep in conversation with Rufio about fording the river, in an orderly fashion. I noted that some, finished setting up their lodgings, were seated by the lake and trying to fish. Justinius followed my gaze.
“Fish sounds wonderful. I’m sure Uncle Maximus would like a change, too.” I nodded. So would I. The salted pork that we usually ate was losing its taste. I kept a round of cheese carefully packed away, where the heat of the sun could not spoil it, and would serve some to Maximus, with his meals. This I did in the privacy of his space, where eyes could not see, and cause mouths to complain. It was of no concern to anyone else, if I chose to give my master special things, but I knew jealousy could cause dissention within our group. But a change from rations would be welcome, nevertheless.
“As soon as we’re done, I’ll get some for us.” He beamed, and we finished pounding the last of the pegs in, hurriedly.
Finding a place amongst the Gauls, I cast my baited line into the depths of a promising-looking pool, and waited, again letting my thoughts meander at will. There was little talk, so it was easy. But the frenzied barking of the wayward dogs snapped my attention back to what was going on around me. I could not see them, but I could hear Lupa’s deep, authoritative voice above them, and the growl in it. Dropping my line, and without thinking, I went to see what it was that had driven them to such noise.
Justinius spied my rush past the camp, yelling for me to stop. I waited long enough for him to catch up with me. Right behind him was Macrinus, and two of his charge. They had been splitting sentry duty, by lots. We were all under orders to stay in small groups, at all times. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To see what the dogs found.”
“It’s probably nothing. A rabbit, or some such.”
“No, they’re fighting over something. I had hunting dogs. It’s not game.”
“All right, let’s have a look, then.” He looked like he wanted to throttle me. Supper would be late, and Maximus would more than likely hang us both, for leaving camp. It would be worth it, I thought ruefully, if he hanged Macrinus, too; he was an unwelcome follower.
We slowed our pace to a cautionary tiptoe, when the canine baying grew loud and insistent, and we could detect the intermingled cacophony of snarls with whines from those animals that were not brave enough to join the fray. The stronger dogs were tearing into four bodies, a woman, and three men, when we arrived. Reluctantly, they abandoned their find, at our approach. Lupa trotted over to me, when I called for her, blood and bits of tissue stuck to her jaw and nose. We left the two men accompanying Macrinus in charge of keeping the dogs away, while the centurions and I examined the bodies.
They had been dead about four days. Rigor mortis had set in, then relaxed, leaving the bodies pliable. The muscles and tissue under the skin were already reaching a softness that allowed me to make indents with my fingers, when I checked the first man. Flies had found the open wounds, and had laid their eggs, the maggot stage was already in process. Macrinus gagged, and Justinius looked little better. They watched me, while I set my jaw and concentrated on the wounds, ignoring my own desire to retch from the smell of the bloating, and the dead blood and flesh that had drawn the dogs.
The man I examined first- I was not eager to check the woman, for I was certain there would be worse things than a cut throat to find on her- had been stabbed through the liver, first, before his neck was slit. He had probably gone down fighting; his hand bore the calluses of a sword, and I surmised he was a bodyguard for the second man, whose fate had been similar. The second’s clothing was of fine materials and woven with gold threads and intricate patterns I did not recognize. His garments had been ruined by whomever had taken his life, so they remained on his body. Jewelry, and anything else precious, was gone, I could see the imprint of rings on his fingers. I shook my head sadly. The head of the third man lay just beyond the rest of his corpse.
“Attacked by thieves.” It was Macrinus, standing just behind Justinius, his face a mask of horror.
“Aye. Recently, too.”
“Leave them. We should go back.”
“Whoever they were, they should have a decent burial.”
He was irritated at my refusal to follow his suggestion. “Soldier,” he sneered at me, “I am giving you an order. They are none of our concern.” I looked to Justinius. If he gave me the directive, I would obey it. He was uncertain, eyes moving from the dead, to me, to Macrinus.
“Let her finish her examination, Marcus. She’s the closest thing to a surgeon we have. Then, we can ask General Maximus about what to do with them.” Macrinus fumed, but did not argue. They held equal rank, but he knew I would follow Justinius’ orders, before his own. I moved to kneel by the woman, who lay face down in the undergrowth by the roots of a large spruce. She had been raped before her throat was slit, in the same manner as her companions’. She was as well dressed as the leader, and I supposed she had been his wife, or perhaps a daughter. Like him, there were telltale signs of missing jewelry. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the morbid fascination of the men, and pulled her clothing down over her exposed lower half, then turned her over.
A matter of days and the gods know we could have saved her, and those she traveled with. A simple circumstance of timing, and she might have lived until we were old women, making up for the lost years, while I was a slave, and she found love and joy, and the life that she deserved. But the gods have their own plans, and they saw fit to hold me back from that place, for a while longer. Though I understand the reasons why now, then, I railed at them, cursing them for not leading me to my sister, sooner.
In my mind’s eye, I can still see the face of our mother, in death. And her daughter bore the same pallid, waxy statement, eyes no longer seeing, but still eerily beautiful and serene, in her lifelessness, as though she had seen where Bran was taking her, and it was all right. A scream, long and strange and bereft, rose from the pit of my soul, and threatened to shatter the mountains into as many tiny shards as my heart had been. Superstition and repulsion for the state of her body did not deter me from taking her in my arms, and grieving over my loss.
She was a child again, in my memory. A shy, silent ghost of a little girl, who tagged along after me, as I played with my friends, and tried not to be in the way. She was waiting for me to come in from the fields or my studies, with a hot plate of food ready, and a listening ear, when I laid out my plans for our people. She played with my daughter, telling the crippled child that someday, she would be special and her disability would not matter. She cried out for me, when they removed us bodily from our home, and was gone forever. Then, I remembered nothing, but the oblivion that pulled me away from consciousness.
The warmth of Maximus’ hand on my forehead, brushing wild bits of my hair away from my face, woke me. It was dark in his small tent, but I knew he was sitting beside his bed, where I lay, Lupa stretched out beside me.
“What time is it?” It was a hollow question, for I did not really care. Time was not my friend.
“Almost midnight.” I had slept for nearly eight hours. I started to rise, mumbling that I needed to get his wine, and his idols, but Maximus halted me, by holding my shoulder. “It’s all right. Sleep again, if you can.” He continued to stroke my hair, the tiny rhythm lulling me into a sense of disembodiment, as though it was a dream, sent by the gods to assuage my anger at them.
“What did you do with them?”
“They are buried. I will show you where tomorrow, if you want.” I nodded against his fingers.
“They will need proper words. There isn’t a Druid among the Gauls in camp.”
“I understand. Who were they?”
“She was my sister. I do not know the others.” My body went from warm to ice, back and forth, for several minutes. Lupa sensed it, and snuggled closer. I slipped my arm around her, and squeezed her, in thanks.
“Boudicca, I wish my sorrow was enough to comfort you.” A tear slid from my eye, hot and wet, and unwanted.
“Thank you. It helps.” I reached up for his hand, and felt his fingers encircle mine. Right then, I did not want the hands of my gods. He was all I had to hold on to. The line between master and slave had blurred and ceased to exist. In truth, it might never have been at all, except in my mistrustful state of mind, and in Maximus’ own aching, empty heart. Thinking on it now, I know it was convenient for us to make the distinction, to enable ourselves to run to the safety of our positions, when we discovered our emotions getting away from us. Somewhere along the way, though, we stopped caring about it, other than we upheld the agreement we had made.
Home is not so much the place one is born, nor is it the nation you claim to belong to. It is the people that know and care for you, regardless of cultural ties, or bloodlines. Maximus and I understood each other.
