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Chapter 51

Word raced through the town on the wings of the wind: a large Saecsen warhost had crossed the eastern border. Dux Riothamus had sent fast riders to all the garrisons under his command and ordered the legions to march. This time there would be no parlay with the chieftains. This time there would be war.

Tatiana and I closed up Alba House and hurried up to the garrison, passing knots of worried citizens on the way. By the time we reached the walls, the first cohorts were already marshalling in the field—Uther and Aurelius with them. I met them in the stable yard where they and other solders were readying their mounts. I called to Aurelius. He saw me and came to me, taking my hands in his. “The entire legion is called out,” he said. “We’re leaving at once.”

Stunned, I blurted the first thing that came into my head. “Where?”

“Near a place called Autricum,” he shrugged. “That’s all I know.” He gave me a quick hug and kiss, and pressed my hand. “I’ve got to go.”

He rushed off again and I stood on stiff legs and watched as they finished their preparation and took their mounts. They paused as they passed me. Uther leaned down and took my hand, kissed it, and bade me farewell. I accepted then what had long been true: Uther and Aurelius were warriors blood and bone. For better or worse, their lives were shaped by battle. As I stood there in the courtyard, the day suddenly seemed a little colder, the light a little dimmer, as I came face-to-face with the grimmest of realities: my sons, the children I had loved and cared for, placing their every need above my own every day since birth, were among those who would live and die with a blade in their hands.

And there was not a thing I could do about it, except pray. This is what I did. Returning to the villa, I found a candle stub and hurried to the church, passing soldiers, wives, and children making their farewells. The church was empty when I entered the dim coolness of the sanctuary. I lit my candle from the one burning on the altar, and then knelt on the stone floor and prayed before the cross on the wall. I prayed to the One who held all beginnings and ends in His hands that He would draw this latest catastrophe to an end worthy of His good name, and that the men who rode to defend us would survive the battle to come and live to see their loved ones on their return. I might have prayed longer, but my mind was heaving with turmoil and my thoughts kept darting off on other paths. Finally, I gave up and said my Amens.

Leaving my candle flickering on the step before the altar, I walked back to the villa and was met on the way by Solinus. “The legion is marching out,” he told me. Realising that he was stating the screaming obvious, he added, “Some of the citizens and soldier’s wives are to follow.”

At first I did not understand what his meaning and my first thought was that I had not heard him correctly. He said it again and removed any doubt: the townsfolk and families of the legionaries were following the army to the battle.

This rarely, if ever, happened in Britannia. But it happened in Gaul and elsewhere in the empire—that wives and relations, or those merely close to the combatants in some way, would travel behind the army with the baggage carts, and maintain a camp of their own to support the troops so that those bearing arms could put all their efforts and energies into their combat with the enemy.

“I will go.” The decision was made the instant I spoke the words.

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean that—”

“Then why tell me?” I demanded.

“I didn’t want you to learn about it later,” he said. “And, yes, in case you wanted to join them.”

“If my sons are to take any part in this battle, I want to be there—for them, and for all those who must put their lives at risk.” I was thinking about Aurelius and Uther of course, but also all the families of fighting men. “If I can be useful to them, then I want to be there.”

“Then you will come with me,” he declared. “I’m taking a wagon.”

“But you are magistrate now,” I countered. “You will be needed here. With everyone else gone, someone must keep the town in good order.”

“I’m going,” he said. “You can school me on the duties of a magistrate on the way.”

I don’t know if he meant that as a rebuke or not, but I accepted his offer to accompany him in the wagon, and ran to fetch a few things to take with me. Tatiana helped me gather a small bundle of items I would need for the journey. She assembled her own bundle, too, informing me that her place was by my side and there was no way she would remain behind. So, we joined the troop of camp followers and, as the sun went down on that fraught and harried day, our straggling parade of wagons and walkers set off.



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Framed