Free Hero of Rome by Douglas Jackson Page B

even the small amount of wine he had drunk had loosened his tongue.
    The look again, longer this time. ‘Let us just say that Lucullus would do well to be wary of his business partners.’ The militia commander laughed. ‘Of course, I am one of them. Lucullus provides transport for me. He has the largest wagon business in the province.’
    ‘Julius told me you were a wine merchant.’
    Falco’s lips pursed as if he wasn’t sure what he was. ‘I suppose I am. I have a monopoly to supply every legionary mess and public office from here to Isca and from Noviomagus to Lindum. A shipload of amphorae in from Ostia every two weeks. How else would a simple soldier be able to afford to break bread with the likes of Petronius?’
    Valerius had a feeling the older man was anything but a simple soldier, but he risked another question. ‘When Petronius talked of the Brittunculi I had the impression he was referring to Lucullus.’
    Falco nodded. ‘It is a term that has become popular among a certain type of Roman; a term that is meant to belittle the Celts. For myself, I believe we must live and work with them, and that to insult them only stores up trouble for the future.’ He paused, and Valerius knew enough to hold his tongue. ‘Things were done, when Colonia was founded, that do none of us credit. Land fever, greed and envy all played their part. Our colonists are good men. They fought for Rome for twenty-five years and knew nothing but hardship. Who could deny that they deserved this land their Emperor had given them? But when a legionary sweating to dig up tree roots in parched ground looked across his boundary and saw a Celt picking rows of fine vegetables while his cattle drank sweet water from a dew pond, what was he to do? He was the victor, they were the vanquished. He took what he believed should be his. And if a Celt died,’ he shrugged his shoulders, ‘it was no real matter.
    ‘Now people like Petronius look at Colonia and see the glory of Rome; invincible and sustained by the power of four full legions. And he has a point. We have had eight years of peace since Scapula stirred up his hornet’s nest by attempting to disarm the tribes. Our farms and estates prosper and grow, and with them the town prospers and grows. The local Britons, those such as Lucullus who are prepared to work and trade with us, have done equally well, but …’ He hesitated, and his face took on a troubled aspect. ‘But I fear we take advantage of their good faith.’
    It was the temple.
    ‘Six years ago, when work began on the temple, Colonia was not the place you see now. Claudius was generous with his grant of land in the territorium around the city and each of us had our pension, but a farm needs investment and a town needs businesses and such things would drain the resources of even a rich man. Yet, when the Emperor was declared divine and we knew this was to be the centre of his cult in Britain, we were proud. He was our Emperor. But we reckoned without the priests. Those they sent from Rome created a Roman institution, with Roman rules and a Roman bureaucracy, to be run on Roman lines and to make a Roman profit. But Britain is not Rome. Colonia is not Rome. There is no old money here. No great fortunes garnered from hundreds of years of slaves’ sweat on grand family estates. To accept the role of augustalis would mean ruination. Did you know that Claudius himself paid eighty thousand gold aurei when he entered the priesthood during Gaius Caligula’s time?’ He shook his head, as if the sum was beyond his wildest imaginings. ‘Only one class could be persuaded … no, flattered , into accepting nomination: the British kings and aristocrats who had supported the invasion and therefore had the most to gain from being magis Romanorum quam Romanorum – more Roman than the Romans. King Cogidubnus, who rules the Atrebates and the Regni, was the first. One taste was enough for him, but he had set the precedent. Others followed, and