Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [195]
He felt his body tense, determined to resist.
“You don’t want me any more?” she asked again.
“No.”
She stepped back angrily.
“You lie,” she exclaimed furiously.
He coloured, but fought it down.
“I’m leaving anyway.” He suddenly felt embarrassed.
She stood quite still. Her face now showed nothing except anger and contempt.
“Enjoy yourself then, celibate,” she hissed the last word scornfully, and spat on the ground in front of him. “I hope the Irish kill you.”
“What will you do?” he asked. Despite his convictions, he felt guilty.
“Find a man instead of a boy,” she said coldly. “Now go.”
He hesitated.
“You may need money.” Awkwardly he dropped a small bag of coins in front of her. She picked it up without a word. He felt a need to explain himself.
“It is only the service of God . . .” he began earnestly.
But she cut him short.
“Tell the Irish,” she said flatly, and turned away, into her house.
The battle with his mother was resumed that evening.
In his desire to cleanse the villa of all pagan images, he had intended next to destroy the mosaic of Orpheus; but here Placidia succeeded in stopping him.
“When the villa is yours, you can do as you wish; but while it belongs to your father and to me, you must respect our wishes. Your father’s Christianity has never been offended by the mosaic, which portrays the birds and animals of God’s creation as well as Orpheus.” Although he did not approve of the mosaic any more, he had to admit the force of Placidia’s argument, and let the matter rest for the time being.
But this was the only argument that Placidia won that day. All that evening, as they had the night before, mother and son battled. If he must go to Ireland, it did not have to be now, she pleaded. And what of his duty to defend his own home?
His duty? His black eyes flashed with anger.
“You do not understand,” he cried. “Those who love God can feel only contempt for themselves and their possessions. The duty you speak of is nothing but love of self: it is contempt for God.” And as she tried to argue he added: “If God is served, it does not matter if this place is destroyed.”
“But this is all I have,” she said softly.
“No,” he urged her. “We have God, which is more.”
“And me? Do you not care what is to become of me?” she asked gently.
“Trust in God,” he replied.
Placidia shook her head sadly, and, realising once again that neither her husband nor her son really loved her, turned away to hide her tears.
She did not give up. Indeed, now that she knew that she was really alone, it seemed to give her strength.
And on the third day, as he was preparing for his journey, Petrus was surprised when Numincus, accompanied by eight men, quietly appeared in his room, and before he realised what was happening, took him politely but firmly to an outhouse into which they pushed him. To his astonishment, Placidia was standing by the door, which was then barred, four of the men standing guard outside.
“I’m sorry Petrus,” she explained, “but you cannot leave Sarum at present. I won’t allow it.”
It had never occurred to him that his mother would resort to such extreme action.
“Do you intend to keep me a prisoner then?” he demanded incredulously.
“Yes,” she replied simply.
She knew that Numincus was on her side, and that the men would obey him. Later that day, Petrus ordered the steward outside to release him, but he learned his mother’s strength and his own weakness when Numincus replied:
“I wish there was a better man than a Porteus to look after this place, and her. But you’re all there is, so you stay.”
That evening, and the next, Placidia came to reason with him. But though the outhouse was draughty and uncomfortable, he would not give in; and both mother and son secretly wondered how long this state of affairs could last.
It lasted until the fifth day after his return. Then it was resolved: not by Petrus, nor by Placidia, but by a single messenger who rode frantically down the road from Calleva with the message:
“The Saxons have come.”
They had come in force this time, landing in the south east and