chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Honor

“A man is known by what others see, not by what he says.”
--Scribonius Largus


A man in royal toga with a purple border stepped forward. He loudly announced to the crowd in the great Roman Forum's Feast Hall, "Welcome, Great King Tasciovaunus, Grand Epaticus and the Austere Cunebelinos," he bowed. "And Cunebelinos' splendid sons: Adminius," another bow and gestures, "Togodumnus," a nod of the head, "and Caracticus." He declared, again with a bow and an extravagant hand flourish. He pronounced each name in the grand roman fashion; in a high resounding tone, and not in the Celtic pronunciations. "Most worthy kings and princes of Albion! All praise to your greatness. To your prominence. To your immensity! May all blessing of the gods be bestowed upon you!"
The patrons hardly noticed the pronouncement as they clamored for tables and banquet couches.
The crier bowed low with another great flourish of hands waving them above his head and around in circuitous fashion. He then stood straight and nodded in the direction of the musicians. They obviously did not see the head nod as he did it again, this time with more flourish.
A fanfare of Cornu horns echoed throughout the vast room. Young girls in whisper-thin dresses and flowers braided in their hair danced before the princes. They tossed rose petals into the air that settled around Adminius and his brothers. The people, excited by the sudden celebration of horns, broke out in calls of acclaim and applause.
“This room is immense. It would swallow ten of our roundhouse halls from back home in Albion.” Togodumnus said.
Adminius marveled as well. He wondered at the great mahogany marbled arches that rose to the open air ceiling above. When he saw the elaborate carvings at the capitols he said, “It is as a great forest is encased in glistening stone.” Stars shown in the clear sky above. “It grows close to the ninth hour.” He said.
“Kind of late for a meal,” Caradoc joined in as they ascended the steps.
There was a vast amount of guests already in attendance. People of various lands were dressed in silks and bleached-white linen. They filled the spaces between the columns and sat or lay on divans at lavish tables arranged around the room.
Adminius compared the styles. Everyone was in roman fashion, no matter their nationality. He and his brothers were dressed quite differently. Plain tunics, woolen cloaks, long swords at their sides and rough sandals on their feet. Adminius touched his sword, pushed it back under his cloak. He pulled down on his tunic where it wrinkled under his baldric and made sure the broach was straight where it fastened his cloak to his shoulder.
They walked together in a group. His Grandfather leading, his Uncle Epaticus and his father Cunebelinos on either side guarding the High King. He and his brothers bunched behind as they were directed to a place in the hall reserved for them.
The tables were stacked to overflowing with silver bowls, small statues of deities, and fruit and fauna. In the back, and to the left, he couldn’t help noticing a line of beautiful young women.
“Prostitutes!” Togodumnus said.
“Slaves,” Adminius replied. “Besides, brother, you are married.”
“Married, yes. Blind? No.” Togodumnus laughed.
Epaticus stated over his shoulder, “You can peruse the wares more carefully—after the meal.”
“The Roman's display their wealth to demean their foreign guests,” Caradoc said. “I have seen this before.”
“What a great day this has been!” Togodumnus said. “We brought tax money all the way from our island in the north. We gave sacrifice at the Great Palace. Then the Romans escort us to this place for a feast in the name of the Great Emperor Tiberius to celebrate loyalties,”
"He will not be in attendance,” Epaticus said as they walked to the row of tables reserved for them.
"Who holds a feast and doesn't show up?" Caradoc mumbled. "An insult. An affront it is."
"We are being honored. What does it matter? There's food, and I'm hungry!" Togodumnus exclaimed.
“The seating place of the esteemed,” Caradoc said as they reached the long tables.
Together, with his two brothers, Adminius sat down at the large marble table prepared for their pleasure. Tasciovaunus, Epaticus, and Cunebelinos were led to a low table surrounded by plush divans. Around the table were several men. Senators perhaps?
The kings lay on the divans in the style of the Romans.
On the table before Adminius was draped an enormous linen cloth. And before they could scoot up to the finery, an enormous sizzling pig carried by four slaves, was laid before them.
“It’s not the broad-shouldered boar we are used to, but a fat, meaty animal.” Togodumnus said eyes wide and mouth open.
The boar was stuffed with apple, pear, and raisins that poured out from its split side. A cacophony of spices entertained the senses. The pungent sweet spice smell was not what Adminius was accustomed to. “I prefer the aroma of the sweet fruit wood smoked boar.”
“Like your wife used to make,” Togodumnus said.
The statement startled Adminius and he looked at his brother. “The memory is pleasant, but. . . it still wells up in me as tightness in the chest.”
“Sorry, brother,” Togodumnus said putting his hand on his brothers shoulder. “It has only been two months since her passing. I understand.”
The men sat down. Caradoc was already partaking of the meat, bowls of fruit, cheeses, and hot breads twisted into shapes of birds.
"Look, there is dove-flesh imbedded in the bread," Togodumnus enlightened the group.
“And is this hare?” Adminius asked.
“I believe so. They say it is . . .” Togidumnus began.
“The Spanish variety!” Adminius and Togidumnus said together.
They both laughed.
Adminius welcomed the hare. They had shared the succulent meat before.
“And there is wine. Lots of Roman wine.” Caradoc laughed. It flowed from fountains in the middle of the table and filled their cups and bowls.
Servants stood waiting at each table. They moved in and out in quiet machinations.
“There were as many slaves, or more, as there are patrons,” Togodumnus pointed out.
Adminius ate slowly, watching in interest as the Roman's abandoned all decorum. Some ate, hardly taking time to chew, until they were gorged. A porcine man filled his mouth with both hands until servants brought him a silver bowl. The man violently stuck his fingers down his throat and vomited into the proffered container. He then went right back to eating again obviously enjoying more of the succulent fare.
He listened to the men at his father’s table as they talked of politics, while his brothers at his table made jokes about the way others looked, and discussed things of pleasure. Adminius half-listened, but he found it difficult to appear jubilant.
During the feast, as time wore on, women came forward and recited poetry. Then, musicians and dancers performed for the men's delight. When the dances grew suggestive and lewd, he looked down to his meal.
“What wrong brother?” Togodumnus asked him.
“Just memory,” Adminius said with pain in his voice.
“I’m here to have fun,” Caradoc said as he wiped dripping wine from his prominent cheekbones, bent nose, and long braided mustache. “Drink up brother!” He shoved a tankard Adminius’ way.
At the end of the dance number, Adminius' youngest brother stood to his feet. Caradoc knocked over his chair as he rose.
“Sit down brother,” Adminius said.
“No, let him speak, he is enjoying this!” Togodumnus said.
Laughing and lauding the dance with his sloshing cup, Caradoc stepped back a few steps. “My name is Caradoc. Caradoc. I declare. I…declare. I declare, to you all,” he said proudly.
Togodumnus, seated between Adminius and Caradoc, caught his brother's arm before he sloshed his wine over the table. Adminius reached around and rescued the chair and returned it to the table. They both helped their younger brother to his seat.
Another dance began.
Caradoc, now seated, leaned forward. His mood appeared suddenly somber as he spoke to anyone who would listen. His voice grew louder as he spoke.
“It will not be long until the Roman legions invade and the red-crested soldiers will kill, or worse," he paused and looked at the Kings at the other table. The dancing girl was giving them flowers. The kings laughed as they accepted the bouquet. Caradoc continued, “They will enslave our whole island for their evil purposes."
"Silence, brother," Adminius warned between his teeth, "this is not the time. We are guests, at their expense, mind you. They seek our trade. They need us and you know it."
"Their commerce is only bait. A front. A ploy. A trick. Blast it.... a prostitute’s ploy." Caradoc fumed, “A way to sneak in unawares and take what they want.”
A man moved over, away from the prince’s table. Another gathered up fruit in his tunic and with a dancing girl on his arm walked away looking back at Caradoc in disgust.
Caradoc gestured to the women lined up against the back wall. “They stand there as if waiting for something.” He then grabbed Togodumnus' tunic.
Togodumnus looked wide-eyed to his brother. His arms outstretched and palms turned up asking for help.
"Perhaps the noise will cover his indiscretion," Adminius told Togodumnus.
Adminius looked to the kings table and to his father. He was busy talking to one of the men in white togas.
“They will not be of help, as usual,” he said to himself.
Letting go, Caradoc took another drink and rambled loudly on. “There are some in Britain who embrace the empire and what Rome could bring,” he said, pointing to the High King. Togodumnus grabbed his arm and quickly brought it down.
“Brother," Adminius intervened, "can’t you see what is before your eyes?" Caradoc looked around the room and back to Adminius.
"Caradoc, the trade has been good in the south and many are becoming wealthy because of it," Adminius explained. "This flourishing continent across the water is not as far away from our homeland as some would think, my brother. What a great opportunity for us to prosper. This compromise we attempt is not without precedent. They have been trading for tin with us for years.”
Caradoc looked at the cup in his hand and dropped it to the table with a clang, then brushed Togodumnus away. He leaned closer to Adminius. His tone was hushed and guarded as if telling a secret. “Adminius, don’t you see what they are doing? When our brothers—traders of tin, copper, and even our precious wheat—come home from their travels—do they not tell wonderful stories of beauty and grandeur?” He turned his face away from the hall full of patrons.
“This is true,” Adminius agreed.
“Ahh, that it is!” Caradoc said. He then turned and opened his arms wide and bowed his head in mock reverence to Rome. “The men in the south of our Island and their oh-so-beautiful wives, seeing how others might profit, have a way of saying, ‘Should our neighbor’s wife have things I don’t have?"
Adminius looked around for a way to quiet his brother. Several more people were beginning to notice his loud tirade and antics.
Caradoc swung around in his chair with a flourish, “Because of their wive’s endless envious moaning, their weak husbands," he bellowed and pointed to each Celtic man in their retinue one at a time, "they, they....were not willing that they should be without any new trinket or the latest Roman . . .” He then grabbed a towel from the hands of a servant, draped it around his neck and said in his girlish voice. “Aren’t I be-you-ti-ful?” “Aaagh!” he said, and threw the towel back to the confused slave. "Then. Then. THEN! THEY TAKE OUR SONS TO EDUCATE IN THEIR EVIL WAYS!" He reached over to the roast pig and tore off a handful of meat. He then slumped down into his chair and gnawed on the juicy flesh.
The last thought seemed to overwhelm him. Adminius saw the disgust in every muscle of Caradoc’s face when he said the word ‘educate’.
“I need to empty some wine,” Togodumnus suddenly said and quickly excused himself from the table.
Dismissing his brother with flair of his wrist, Caradoc continued. “The southern merchants sought more substance only to get more status, and thus ultimately gain peace with their woman folk.” Caradoc’s mouth full, juice ran down his chin as he pointed to Adminius, "Their women folk, mind you."
Adminius winced. This sarcasm stabbed at recent injury. Adminius’ had a sudden flashback to the night he lost his wife and child. He vividly saw her face. Eyes open as she died giving birth. The child was stillborn. Adminius grabbed his chest where a necklace hung, and gathered resolve. He determined that he would not let Caradoc use this wound every time they disagreed.
However, before Adminius could respond, Caradoc pushed Togodumnus' empty chair back out from between himself and Adminius and scooted forward in his chair. He put his foot up on Adminius’ divan. Caradoc boldly proclaimed, "To appease their own whores. That is our lands only purpose in sucking at Rome’s breast.”
Then, as if a demon entered him, Caradoc's eyes went wide. He untied his hair cord, brushed back his hair, and then wildly shook it until it fell across his face and shoulders. He grunted. Caradoc rose quickly and grabbed Adminius by the side of his head with both hands.
Adminius did not expect the quick movement.
Caradoc leaned into Adminius' face and looked him straight in the eye. “They wish to be …..” he wrinkled his nose and wagged his head back and forth with each syllable, “ROMA POPULARI.”
Adminius spoke under his breath, “The lands, roadways, great buildings, and great riches are all immense in Rome. I know. I see it too.” Brushing Caradoc’s arm aside, he stood and faced him. “We both have walked the streets of Rome. And,” He said, “I will bring only memories back with me. What will you bring back home?”
The air in the room seemed to thicken when Caradoc rose to his feet. Adminius quickly glanced to the king’s table. They too had left somewhere. Adminius was alone to deal with this. The suspension of time felt to Adminius just how it must feel to put your hand into an adder's den. He looked at Caradoc, uncertain of what he would do in front of these foreigners. This snake would either strike or slither back into its hole. Adminius gradually squared his shoulders.
With narrowed eyes, Caradoc placed his hand to his long sword.