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Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. I
  4. II
  5. III
  6. I - INVADER AD 43-70
  7. I
  8. II
  9. III
  10. IV
  11. V
  12. VI
  13. VII
  14. VIII
  15. IX
  16. X
  17. XI
  18. XII
  19. XIII
  20. XIV
  21. XV
  22. XVI
  23. XVII
  24. XVIII
  25. XIX
  26. XX
  27. XXI
  28. XXII
  29. XXIII
  30. XXIV
  31. XXV
  32. XXVI
  33. II - BUILDER AD 122-138
  34. I
  35. II
  36. III
  37. IV
  38. V
  39. VI
  40. VII
  41. VIII
  42. IX
  43. X
  44. XI
  45. XII
  46. XIII
  47. XIV
  48. XV
  49. XVI
  50. XVII
  51. XVIII
  52. XIX
  53. XX
  54. XXI
  55. III - EMPEROR AD 314—337
  56. I
  57. II
  58. III
  59. IV
  60. V
  61. VI
  62. VII
  63. VIII
  64. IX
  65. X
  66. XI
  67. XII
  68. XIII
  69. XIV
  70. XV
  71. EPILOGUE
  72. I
  73. II
  74. III
  75. IV
  76. Afterword

They all managed to laugh at that.

Nectovelin said suddenly, ‘But if you hurt her—’

‘I won’t,’ Cunedda said.

‘Are you afraid of me, boy?’

‘Not you,’ Cunedda said bravely. ‘Her, yes.’

Nectovelin’s stern expression broke up into another laugh, and he clapped Cunedda on the shoulder.

Agrippina walked forward, and the deeper water lapped deliciously against her bare legs. ‘Look.’ With her pointing finger she sketched the line of the coast. ‘This bay would make a good harbour. It’s sheltered by that island, and by the shingle banks over there to the south.’

Cunedda said, ‘Somebody else has thought of that.’ He pointed out a heap of nets, a crowd of seagulls squabbling over fish guts on the beach. ‘In fact I don’t know why this place isn’t teeming with ships.’

‘Because it’s too new,’ Nectovelin said. ‘There was a great storm here, a few years back. A sand bar was breached. That island didn’t even exist when I was born.’

Cunedda nodded. ‘Then the harbour wasn’t here in Caesar’s time?’

‘No. And he didn’t land anywhere near here.’ Nectovelin described how Caesar had made a tough landing beneath the white chalk cliffs of the south coast.

Agrippina reflected, with the faintest unease, on a titbit of information she had picked up from a trader in Durovernum, the main town of the Cantiaci, the local people. Though the Cantiaci didn’t have a name for this new harbour, the Romans did: they called it Rutupiae. In their endless obsessive mapping and surveying, and the low-level spying they carried on through their traders, the Romans had spotted the potential of the place, even if the locals hadn’t.

Her eye was distracted by another silhouette on the horizon. Perhaps it was another hide-sailed trading ship from Gaul. There seemed to be a lot of traffic today. But the air was misty, and she couldn’t quite make it out.

‘Look,’ Cunedda said, ‘Mandubracius is waving. He’s got the tent up!’

At that moment the shapeless black mound the boy had erected subsided to the sand.

Nectovelin harrumphed. ‘He’s done his best. Let’s go rescue him.’ He led the way out of the sea and up the beach.

III

III

The four of them spent the day playing games, talking, eating, drinking. It was near midsummer, and the light faded only slowly from the sky. Nectovelin even grudgingly accepted some of the Roman wine Cunedda had brought.

Agrippina was glad Mandubracius was here. He was a good-hearted child, full of affection, who wanted nothing more than for everybody to have a good time. In fact she wondered if, unconsciously, she had planned it this way, to have Mandubracius around when she faced Nectovelin over her relationship with Cunedda, as a way to lighten the mood.

First Mandubracius and then Nectovelin succumbed to tiredness, and retired to the tent.