Buried Too Deep by Jane Finnis Page A

She used to be so lively, you know, always busy, always smiling, but since the baby came she’s been real miserable. Does it always make women sad, having babies? You’d think they’d be happy, wouldn’t you?”
    “The gods alone know,” I said. “Lots of women are very happy. My sister Albia was as merry as a box of birds when she had her twins.”
    “Albia’s your sister? She and Candidus have been real good to us. They lent us a couple of men last harvest-time, and they said they’d help us when the bastards started threatening us. But Divico’s so set on being independent, not letting anyone else know our business. Especially Romans…Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
    We smiled at him and he went on, “I wish I could get a message to Candidus and Albia about what’s happened now. They might be able to do something. But I’m afraid with Belinus gone, the raiders’ll get what they want anyway, which is to push us out. I don’t see how we can stay.”
    “We’re on our way to see Albia now,” I said. “Of course we’ll tell her and Candidus what’s happened. They’ll want to help.”
    Lucius said, “You think it’s the raiders from the sea who attacked Belinus, and are trying to take your farm away?”
    Cattos nodded. “Who else? Well, Divico thinks it’s that Ostorius Magnus, but it can’t be. The men who came after Belinus weren’t Romans. Gauls, I reckon. We get fishermen coming ashore here sometimes. They all have long hair.”
    “What did these three look like?” Lucius asked. “Can you describe them for us?”
    “I didn’t see much. And the Long-hairs all look the same, don’t they?”
    “Not really,” I prompted. “They’ve got different coloured hair and beards, for one thing. I didn’t get much of a look at the three we chased off today, but one was taller than the others with brown hair, very long, it was blowing about as he rode. The two shorter ones were darker, and one of them had a very skimpy beard. Now you’ve seen them twice, and you were closer to them than we were. Even if they scared you, your eyes will have seen a lot, and left a picture in your mind. Close your eyes now, and try to look at that picture again with your mind’s eye. Start with the one who did most of the talking. Was he the tall one?”
    He closed his eyes and screwed up his face, concentrating hard. “That’s right, and he was their leader. A head taller than the others, with thick long brown hair, and a white scar on his left cheek running up to where his ear would be, but that was hid by the long hair. It showed up because his face was so brown. They were all brown, like sailors are. The one with the skimpy beard, he had black curly hair, not as long as the others but still a foreign-looking style, and he was small and thin, and not a very good rider. I think he was only a lad. The other one had black hair too but hanging down straight.”
    “Good! That was an excellent picture. Now their voices. They’ll be in your mind too, if you listen inside yourself. You said you’ve met fishermen. Did these three speak in the same way?”
    “Let me think…yes, the leader did. The others just laughed and cheered, I couldn’t tell. Yes, the tall one was a Gaul, I’m sure.” He looked at me. “That’s a good trick you’ve showed me, finding the pictures and sounds in my mind. I’ll remember it.”
    “We always see and hear more than we think we have. My brother taught me that.” I grinned at Lucius. “We used to play games when we were little, looking at a street full of people and seeing how many we could remember. Mind you, Albia’s got a much better memory for faces than either of us. Once she sees someone, she never forgets.”
    We stayed with Cattos a little while longer, reluctant to leave him there entirely alone. We were relieved when a slightly-built dark lad appeared on a pony, followed by a big brindled dog. As they got nearer, we realised that it was in fact a