“Remembers me? How could he rememberme?” I asked, completely bewildered, but when I glanced over atAlex, he could only offer a mystified shrug.
“Forgive me, Gnaeus.” Ivomagusaddressed Mandubracius, and his face cleared. “Ah, yes. Myapologies, that was my mistake. What Mandubracius means is that youare exactly like the Roman he saw when he was a youngman.”
When Ivomagus relayed whatMandubracius said, my initial response was to snort in disbelief;by the time the old man was through, I was, and am convinced he hadseen the Prefect, my great-grandfather, in the flesh. My reasoningwas based in a couple of simple but important points; whatMandubracius described of the events of what was the second timeDivus Julius invaded Britannia, specifically about the lopsidedfight when the 7th,9th, and mygreat-grandfather’s Equestrians were sent out to forage, and theBritons attacked them, the details were accurate. Most importantly,he also spoke about the only battle that could be called a Romandefeat that occurred before this one, when two Cohorts of the8th Legion suffered heavycasualties, something that is in the Prefect’s account, but not inCaesar’s, at least as far as the casualties. Even through thelaborious process of Ivomagus translating, I found myselfbreathless with anticipation as I waited for what Mandubracius saidnext, and I was not alone. The entire hall was spellbound as hetalked, first about that day, then later, when, heeding the call ofthe chieftain Cassivellaunus, who led a coalition of tribes that,while Mandubracius did not say as much, clearly included theParisii, they forced Caesar to pursue them, while laying waste totheir own lands.
Fairly quickly, Ivomagus had stoppedstarting what Mandubracius said by essentially relaying that he wastranslating, so that he would say, “When we did not defeat theRomans in battle, Cassivellaunus led us back across the river youcall the Tamesis, where he had a hillfort that belonged to theTrinovantes, and we were told this would be where we would eitherwin, or we would die.”
My eyes stayed on Mandubracius, and evenwith his milky eyes, I could see a faraway expression that I haveseen in other men, usually older men, when they are no longer wherethey are, but have been transported back to the day and time theyare talking about.
“The walls were made of dirt, but theywere very high and very strong. Or,” Mandubracius had offered arasping sound that I believe was a chuckle when he mentioned this,“we thought they were very strong. But Caesar’s men did not evenuse their machines. They just came forward carrying ladders.” Justbefore Ivomagus continued, there was a point where Mandubraciussuddenly looked directly at me, or in my direction, and I amcertain it was when he related, “That is when I saw the giantRoman. He was the first of them up the ladder, and I watched himslay two men. One of them was my cousin, the son of my father’ssister. I was very young. No more than fifteen, and I did not evenhave a beard or a mustache.”
When Ivomagus finished this part,Mandubracius did not resume, at least at first, and this time, hewas looking down at the floor, and now I could see the sadnessthere as he was reliving that day more than sixty years ago. Hechuckled again, but once more it was without humor, and he went on,“Oh, I thought of myself as a great warrior then, and even as largeas he was, I was certain I could defeat this Roman. I attacked himwith my spear, and I knew that I had never made a thrust as quicklyas I had that day, but he swatted my spear away as if he wasswatting a fly, and he did it so powerfully that it turned mepartway around and moved my shield out of position. And,” Ivomagussighed exactly as Mandubracius had an instant earlier, “I learnedthat I was not quick, nor was I great warrior.” Mandubracius shookhis head as Ivomagus finished for him, “I did not even see his blowcoming. He struck me in the head with his sword, and that is thelast thing I remember until it was dark, and I woke up in a pile ofbodies. Including my cousin.”
Cogidubnus had been listening as intently aseveryone else, and while I was equally absorbed, I had to forcemyself to keep from looking at Bronwen as I wondered what she wasthinking, but now he spoke up, addressing Mandubracius. The old manlistened, then spoke a bit more forcefully, giving me theimpression he was unhappy about something.
This was confirmed when Ivomagus relayed,“My brother asked Mandubracius how he could still be alive aftertaking a sword to the head. That does not make sense.”
Then, everything became clear, andbefore I thought about it, I drew the gladius. Which, I immediately understood, wasnot the wisest course, because the men nearest to our table leaptto their feet, as did Ivomagus, who placed himself in front ofCogidubnus.
Somewhat abashed, I held up my hand,saying quickly, “I apologize, Ivomagus. Tell the king I have nointention of doing anything.” To prove it, I laid thegladius on the table, and onceeveryone sat back down, I said to Ivomagus, “Ask Mandubracius todescribe that gladius thathit him.”
Ivomagus looked uncertain, but he didturn and speak to Mandubracius, who, as I expected, answeredimmediately, and I could see the import of what he said dawning onIvomagus because his eyes went from Mandubracius to thegladius. It was Cogidubnus’ reactionthat was even more telling as he let out a small gasp, then hereached out to gently touch the blade that had been forged by aGallic master some sixty-five years earlier.
I knew what he would say, but Ivomagusexplained nonetheless. “He said it was quite dark, much darker thananything that he had ever seen before. But,” he paused, “what heremembers most was the pattern on the blade, because he stood therewatching it plunge into the body of his cousin.”
Rather than say anything, I bent down,grasped the gladius, thenheld it up and out in front of me with the blade turned parallel tothe ground but with the width of the blade facing outward so thateveryone who was close enough could see it, and there was anexplosive reaction that, to my ears, was equally
