“The Iceni?” I repeated. “I take itthat is another tribe of your island?”
He glanced at me sharply, but I must haveconvinced him I was ignorant of the tribes of Britannia, becauseafter a heartbeat, he nodded as he explained, “Yes. Their landsborder ours to the south.”
Thinking it would help matters, I offered,“Well, I do know that the Brigantes are the tribe on yournorth.”
“The Brigantes are even worse than theIceni!” His face twisted into a mask of contempt. “They are womenwho just dress like men! They like to have sex with their farmanimals! The sheep! The pigs! And each other!”
Well, I thought, thatis how we do it, fucking each other,but I also knew he meant the men. Impulsively, I asked him, “Whatwould have happened if you had been captured by theBrigantes?”
His laugh was short. “I would not be sittinghere because they would not have made me a slave. They would havetortured me for as long as I could last, then they would kill meand feed me to their pigs.”
“Which brings us back to how I canconvince you that what Malorix told you is true, that we have everyintention of landing in Parisii territory then using you as a wayto bargain for the supplies we’ll need to repair the ship, give usenough food and water to return home, and freedom from beingattacked while we work?”
Now Ivomagus looked confused, frowning as heasked me, “Could you repeat that, Centurion?”
I did, and he shook his head as he replied,“That is not what Malorix told us. He said that if we accepted lesswater, we would be released when we reached land. He did not sayanything about releasing us in our own lands, or what you wereasking in return for our freedom.”
I could not stifle a groan or putting myhead in my hands.
“That fucking idiot,” I muttered. ToIvomagus, I said, “Well, I can see why you wouldn’t believe him,and why you wouldn’t be eager to just be dumped on land somewherewhere you might be in just as much danger and remain slaves, orworse.”
Ivomagus did not say anything for a span oftime, studying me carefully, and I suppose that is what prompted meto turn to Alex, who had been leaning against the column thatbisected the cabin.
“Alex, you know that cup of wine wehave left?” He nodded, and I indicated Ivomagus. “Pour it forhim.”
My clerk was clearly surprised, but heobeyed readily enough, moving to the small locked cupboard, takingout the amphora, then pouring the contents into a cup, which hehanded to the Parisii.
When he peered down at it suspiciously, Icould not stifle the surge of irritation. “Oh, Pluto’s balls, man.Do you think I keep a jug of poisoned wine just waiting for achance to use it?”
He did look embarrassed, inclining his headin thanks, then lifted the cup to his lips, and I saw his eyeswiden in surprise at the taste of the dark liquid, which I assumedwas only because it had been so long since he had last tasted it.The Parisii clearly liked it, because he drained it in one longswallow, aside from two thin streams on either side that dribbledinto his beard.
It was only after he set the cup on the deskthat he asked, “What is this drink?”
“What is it?” I asked, surprised.“It’s wine. And,” I admitted, “not very good wine.”
“So that is wine,” he mused.
“You mean your people don’t have winein your lands?” Alex asked.
Ivomagus shook his head. “It is forbidden tous. It has been since before I was born.”
This was so interesting and unusual that Iforgot the larger subject, and I asked, “Any idea why?”
“Because wine entering our lands meansthat Rome is entering our lands,” he answered, though he looked abit uncomfortable.
“Like the Belgae,” Alexcommented.
“That’s right,” I remembered, althoughwhether it was from my great-grandfather’s account or Caesar’sCommentaries I could not recall. I could not help myself, andignoring Ivomagus, I grinned at Alex as I said, “Not that it helpedthem. They’re a Roman province now.”
“We,” Ivomagus said stiffly, “willnever submit to Rome.”
“Well,” I shot back, “right now, weRomans are your best chance for you and the rest of your men todraw breath as free men, Ivomagus. But,” I pointed at him, “only ifyou can convince your men that we’re telling the truth.”
I could see this angered him, but he saidevenly, “Now that I know the full details, that will not bedifficult.”
With that, our business was concluded, and Iescorted Ivomagus back to the compartment. I confess that I wasquite pleased with myself, and while Ivomagus spoke to the otherslaves, I pulled Cador and Motius aside.
“You need to keep that idiot Malorixaway from me the rest of this voyage,” I told them, then explainedwhat had almost caused a bloody riot.
“He has always been next to useless,”Motius admitted.
He was about to add something, but there wasanother uproar, except rather than shouts of joy or relief, it wasthe same tone of anger that had started everything. This time,however, it was Ivomagus who looked shaken, and we quickly learnedwhy as the three of us gathered around the Parisii.
“What’s going on?” I almost had toshout this.
“I told them what was trulyhappening,” he answered, without hesitation. “But then I was askedabout the other slaves, the ones who are not Parisii, and what wasto happen with them.”
“They’re our property!” Cadorprotested. “It is none of their business what happens tothem!”
“Tell them,” I interrupted, “thatwe’ll release them as well. But,” I added, “they’ll be on their ownon your island.”
“Centurion!” Motius was every bit asperturbed as Cador. “Cador is right! Giving up the Parisii is theonly thing that makes sense so that we have a chance to returnhome, but not the rest of them! It will ruin us!”
I cannot say I was unsympathetic, but onlyto a point, and that point did not go very far.
“You’ll be ruined even worse if you’reresponsible for losing two Centuries of the1st Legion, including one oftheir Cohort commanders,” I reminded them. “If that’s what it takesto get these men back on the benches and rowing, that’s what we’lldo. We’ve already wasted too much time with this.” Looking over theheads, I addressed Ivomagus. “Tell
