Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [114]
“My family has always held it,” the Celt answered, indicating the whole landscape with a sweep of his hand. “The high ground is ours, and the land to the south-west, towards the Durotriges. Our house is in the valley,” he added.
The family’s house in normal times was not the dune but a modest and comfortable place a few miles to the north: it consisted of a large enclosure similar to the farmsteads they were passing, though on a grander scale. Inside were two circular thatched houses, each thirty feet in diameter, in which the family lived, a dozen stores and outhouses, and the small shrine to the god Nodens at which the family worshipped. Since leaving the windy dune as a residence two generations before, the family had been content with their farm stead and its fine views over the valley and river below – a modest style of life typical of many of the Celtic nobles on the island at the time.
They passed numerous barrows, all overgrown with short, coarse turf and the Roman glanced at them with careless interest.
“These were the tombs of my ancestors,” Tosutigus told him. He hoped that this Roman legate understood that he was a figure of some consequence in the land, but he was not sure that he did.
When they reached Stonehenge, Vespasian surveyed the huge, crumbling stone circle with curiosity. It was obvious that this temple was not in regular use.
“Do the Druids come here?”
Tosutigus shook his head.
“It was used in my father’s time, but not much even then. The Druids left.”
“Human sacrifice?”
The young chief hesitated. He was well aware of the Roman view of this practice, and although he was loyal to Nodens and the other Celtic gods, he had been revolted by many of the Druids’ ancient customs himself. The truth was that ten years before, after a poor harvest, a party of Druids had sacrificed a child at the henge, but there had been no sacrifices since.
“There used to be,” he answered.
The Roman’s face registered disgust.
“The Druids are mostly further north,” Tosutigus explained, “or in the lands of the Durotriges. They don’t use the henges much; they use clearings in the woods.” This was the truth and he hoped it would satisfy Vespasian.
“If any Druids come here, you will send them to me in chains,” Vespasian ordered.
“As you wish.”
Tosutigus had no particular love for the Druids and he knew that once the Romans ruled the island, they would be exterminated anyway. The Druids were irrelevant to his purposes. He glanced at the cold young legate to see if he had succeeded in making a favourable impression, but the Roman’s expressionless face gave nothing away.
In fact, from the first moment when Tosutigus had come down from the dune, Vespasian had seen him for exactly what he was: a young provincial chief – hopeful, ambitious, and obviously without any real power. Vespasian understood power better than most men then living, and he could see at once that Tosutigus had nothing to bargain with except a minor fort which he had already given up. But it amused him to watch this young chief on his fine horse trying to impress him with his floundering and ungrammatical Latin and as they made their way back towards the dune, he suddenly turned to him and asked abruptly:
“And what do you want from Rome, Tosutigus?”
The young man was taken by surprise. He had not expected such a direct approach but be recovered himself quickly. Was not this exactly the chance that he had waited for so many months? It obviously was, and he had his answer ready.
“I want to be a client ruler, Vespasian, and a Roman citizen.” He might have added, “and a senator too,” for it was known that client kings under the empire had sometimes been given this honour and had strutted in the streets of Rome in their heavy-bordered togas and been treated as equals by the greatest men of the empire. He could think of nothing he would like more.
“You want to be a client king?” Vespasian looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and wondered: how vain and ambitious was this foolish young fellow? “What else do you want?” he asked.
Thinking that he