Emperor

'You mustn't think like that, Brigonius. You must be positive-seize this chance-and deal with the consequences later.'

In any event they would have no access to the Emperor until he reached the colonia of Camulodunum. And it was going to take many days for the imperial circus to travel that far, Brigonius learned. The whole purpose of the trip was for the people to see Hadrian. There would be stops in the new city of Londinium and elsewhere, so the wealthier citizens of the towns, already heavily taxed in this heavily militarised province, could feel they got their money's worth from the huge expense of this visit.

Rather than wait, Severa decided that she, her daughter and Brigonius would go on ahead. Arriving early at Camulodunum they would have more time to prepare their pitch.

On his journey south Brigonius had travelled fast and light. He rode all the way, changing his horses at roadside inns-mansiones, as they were called, stations primarily intended for official despatch riders and the cursus publicus, the fast public postal service. But he didn't sleep in the inns. He had a leather tent, in fact a Roman army surplus item he'd purchased at Vindolanda. He didn't like towns; he had been happy to sleep in fields with his own small fire and his horse tethered nearby. Cheaper too.

Going back with two Roman ladies was a different matter. They weren't about to sleep in a field; the question never even arose. Severa lavished money to hire a new carriage, slaves and horses. Then, armed with a schematic map of the province, she plotted out a route. From Rutupiae they would travel west through Durovernum and along the south bank of the Tamesis estuary-said to be the route once taken by Claudius's conquering army-and then via smaller towns to Londinium. There they would cross the river by the Romans' new wooden bridge, and head north.

This route would incidentally take them through the homelands of several British nations, including Brigonius's own ancestral people the Catuvellaunians. But these were not marked on Severa's map, which showed only the Romans' new towns, their roads, and the rivers with their new Latin names.

So they set off. They rolled through peaceful farmland. The fields were marked out by hedgerows or stone walls, given over on this summer's day to wheat or barley. Away from the towns, the buildings were mostly round thatched houses; here and there smoke seeped into the sky.

From the start it was an unhappy journey. Lepidina and her mother had already journeyed all the way from Rome, and were frankly tired of travelling. Brigonius had hoped he could at least use the trip to get to know Lepidina a little better. Lepidina did some perfunctory flirting with Brigonius for the first day or two, but soon grew bored and retreated into the back of the carriage, where, curled up among bundles of clothing, she immersed herself in books of poetry.

She showed these to Brigonius. Written out on papyrus scrolls they were poems by somebody known as Ovid. Brigonius found this difficult to read; his Latin wasn't good enough to spot all the allusions and verbal trickeries. But the poetry was racy stuff and he found it embarrassing.

Severa teased him mercilessly. 'You're like all young people. Do you imagine your generation invented sex? …'

But these intervals of banter were moments in a rather dreary progression.

In the event it wasn't Lepidina whom Brigonius got to know better during the journey but her mother, in the long hours he spent riding with her at the front of the carriage. Alongside Severa, he saw his own landscape through her sharper eyes.

Eighty years after Claudius, Britannia was divided into two distinct parts. The south and east had been pacified, and a civilian government was emerging based on the new towns. But the north and west remained essentially under military control. Thus Brigonius had grown up under an occupying power. The Romans even had different names for the two populations, the Brittani of the south and the Brittones of the north.

'The country here makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?' Severa said. 'Home for you is different from all this. The south-east of Britain has more in common with Gaul or Italy than with Britain's own north-west.'

He tried to put his feelings into words. 'At least at home you know who you are. Things are clear. You're Roman or you're Brigantian. Here it's all-muddy.' He said defiantly, 'But even here the touch of the Roman is light.'

She raised her eyebrows.

'Look around you. The farms were here before the road. You can tell from the way the road just cuts through the fields. And the farmers are working the land just as they always did, long before the Romans came. So you see, the Romans have made hardly any difference at all.'

'You think so?' Severa said slyly. 'Look at that.' She pointed to a farmhouse, a complex of whitewashed tile- roofed buildings surrounded by gardens and set amid extensive fields: it was grand, even palatial. 'You could transplant such a house as that to the Mediterranean and it wouldn't look out of place. And what about that?' On a river bank to the east, dimly seen in misty air, a great wheel turned slowly. 'It is a mill,' she said. 'For grinding corn, using the power of flowing water where once human muscle or oxen would have done the job. You can use the wind, too, if you're clever enough. The farmers are even breaking land on hilltops and in river valleys they previously thought not worth working. The population is rising too. I know this is true because the Romans measure such things.'

Brigonius snorted. 'The Romans count us so they can tax us. The farmers only grow more wheat to meet the demands of the soldiers who push us around. And then they have to pay tax on the coin they earn.'

'Yes,' Severa said, a touch impatiently, 'but that's the point. You have to see all of this as a great wheel, Brigonius-like the waterwheel of the mill over there. Once the farmers grew only for themselves. Now they grow a surplus, which they take to the towns to sell. The taxes they pay on their profits are used to develop the towns and to pay the soldiers, who, hungry, must be fed by the farmers' surplus…Around and around it goes, a wheel driven by a river of money. And everybody benefits, everybody grows prosperous, and everybody is at peace. Why, there have probably never been more people alive in Britain than today. What's wrong with that?'

'But what's the point of it all? The mill-wheel grinds flour for bread. What purpose does your money-wheel serve?'

'Why, it grinds up people. It smashes up petty tribes like your own and bakes the fragments into an empire.'

'It makes everybody the same,' Brigonius said resentfully.

'Yes! And that is the power of it.' Severa dug into her purse and produced a coin, stamped with Hadrian's head. 'Look at this, Brigonius. You could travel along roads just like this one from Britain to Asia, and everywhere you could ask for your daily bread in Latin, and pay for it with this coin. A single language, a single currency, right across a continent. And Britain is part of it! Don't be sentimental, Brigonius! Open your eyes and see the shining future-and embrace it.'

As she made this little speech she touched his hand. Her grip was strong, her flesh oddly cold. Looking at her pale eyes he saw her ambition, and he wondered uneasily just how unsentimental she would prove to be in pursuing her goals.

In the back of the carriage, Lepidina puzzled out a fresh bit of wordplay in Ovid's poetry and laughed softly, her voice light as a bird's.

V

Unlike most other British towns Londinium had not been founded on the site of an older settlement. When Claudius came this way there had been nothing at all, Severa said, nothing but the mud huts of a few fisher-folk. Now along the shining river barges and sea-going ships cruised purposefully, and docks sprawled along both north and south banks of the river, with cranes rising like gaunt birds. Beyond a hinterland of warehouses and granaries there were signs of still more impressive buildings under construction.

Using her sketchy map Severa showed him why Londinium had risen. 'You see, the river is tidal, all the way to this point, and navigable much further inland. And the city itself is a node of road systems that arrow off across the island north, west, east and south. It is a natural port for trade with Gaul and further afield…'

It was a port for an imperial province, Brigonius saw, a port for continental trade. Britain did not need Londinium; Britannia did.

After a final overnight stop they approached Camulodunum. It was early in the morning. As they neared the town the road, growing busier, was lined with tombstones, urns half-buried in the ground. Severa told Brigonius that the Romans didn't allow burials within a town's boundary, so cemeteries grew up on the major routes out of town.