Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [130]
It was then that the trouble began. The natives, seeing their livestock being taken, began to jostle the soldiers and the old chief, with great foolishness, did nothing to stop them. A scuffle began as the legionaries pushed the ragged natives aside with their shields. And then suddenly, as if from nowhere, an elderly woman appeared with a spear and rushed towards them. Before anyone could stop her, she hurled the spear with ferocious accuracy at one of the soldiers. It struck him in the neck and he fell. As soon as he saw it, Porteus knew what must follow.
“Form a line,” the centurion shouted. “We’ll deal with them,” he cried to Porteus. Before he could do anything about it, Porteus saw the battle line drawn up.
“Hold them steady,” he called out to the centurion. “Don’t move.” But it was useless. Without taking any notice of him, the centurion and his force were already advancing with deadly efficiency towards the natives.
“These are not my orders,” he shouted.
“They’re the governor’s orders,” returned the centurion. And as he watched, the disciplined troops began to cut down the terrified people in the little settlement, while Porteus watched helplessly.
In an hour, it was all over. They had collected ten wagons of grain, fifty cattle, and the settlement was a smouldering ruin. The chief had been caught and butchered, his shrine completely destroyed.
“A good day’s work,” the centurion remarked with a grin. “Where to next, Caius Porteus?”
Porteus said nothing.
In the brief report of this incident that he delivered personally to the governor when they returned to Camulodunum, he said only that there had been resistance to the payment of taxes and that accordingly the settlement had been punished. He also recommended a new tax assessment for the surrounding country. Suetonius received the report casually.
“Quite right,” he commented.
But as Porteus was leaving, the governor gave him a quiet, shrewd look and said:
“No centurion will risk his men in a place like that. No honour in being killed by native women. Don’t hesitate next time, Caius Porteus. This province has got to be tamed.”
But if the governor thought that this was the end of the matter, he was wrong. The butchering of the natives, whose only crime had been poverty, the sense that he was now actively engaged in a brutal policy which he knew would fail, preyed increasingly on Porteus’s mind. All over the province, he knew, other troops were performing similar cruel and useless acts of repression, and the thought of it sickened him.
The islanders hate us more every day, he thought and it is only a matter of time before there is another rebellion, another Boudicca. Will there be another Suetonius then, too, or will the entire Roman population be cut to pieces?
He could no longer close his mind to what was being done, but what could he do about it? Should he resign his position and go back to Rome? That would probably end his career. Should he write to Graccus, or some other powerful figure to warn them of the tragic mistakes that were being made? That would be disloyal. In the end, he concluded that there was only one proper course of action, which was neither of these; but before taking it, he decided to consult Marcus, who had always taken a kindly interest in his affairs, and whose judgement he knew was excellent. He believed he could trust him.
He explained his dilemma to him at length, and Marcus listened attentively.
“I must be loyal to the governor,” he concluded, “but the whole policy is a terrible mistake, and I can’t stand by and say nothing.” He frowned. “If he sent me out to destroy another settlement like last time . . .” he made a gesture of despair. “I couldn’t.”
“What do you want to do then?” Marcus asked him.
“I think I should go direct to the governor,” Porteus replied, “and make my complaint to him.”
Marcus nodded slowly. It was obvious that young Porteus was determined to make a fool of himself: the question was, should he try to stop him? And on this point Marcus Marcellinus now faced a difficult