Chapter Nine
One of the best but hardest things about writing a story set in the Roman era is that although we’re constantly learning more about this fascinating period, there’s still a lot that we don’t know. While this allows for greater imaginative freedom, it can also be frustrating when dealing with real-life events, such as the Caledonian rebellion of AD 197.
What we do know is that Hadrian’s Wall was built after the Roman Emperor’s visit to Britain in AD 122. Comprising forts, mile-castles, ditches and turrets, it stretched for eighty Roman miles—seventy-three modern miles—from Wallsend on the north-east coast of England to Bowness-on-Solway on the west, and took fifteen thousand soldiers six years to complete.
It had several purposes, functioning as a frontier, a military bulwark and a customs barrier, although the Romans also made several forays into the area they called Caledonia—now Scotland—even building another shorter fortification, the Antonine Wall, between the Firth of Forth and the Firth of Clyde, though this was abandoned after only twenty years in AD 163.
In spite of these efforts, the northern tribes were never completely subdued or brought under the Pax Romana and there were numerous uprisings throughout the second century AD. Matters came to a head in AD 182, when the then Governor of Britain, Clodius Albinus, proclaimed himself Emperor of the Roman Empire and took a large part of the British garrison to Gaul, where he was eventually defeated by his rival Septimius Severus.
Despite a significant bribe to maintain the peace, the Maetae tribe north of Hadrian’s Wall took advantage of the Romans’ absence by launching a series of raids and destroying large parts of the fortifications.
In AD 197 the new Emperor Severus sent commissioners north to rebuild the wall and re-establish control—although archaeological evidence shows continued fighting around this period. The exact sequence of events is unclear, but the Sixth Victorious Legion was based in York—the Roman city of Eboracum—at this time, and the Emperor himself finally came to Britain to suppress the uprising in AD 208.
Hadrian’s Wall wasn’t abandoned by the Roman Empire until the early fifth century. Consequently, although we know that there was a Caledonian rebellion, and it affected the real forts of Coria—Corbridge—and Cilurnum—Chesters—which feature in this story, all the specific incidents and characters are fictionalised.
I’ve tried to keep place names accurate—Lindum is Lincoln—but to avoid confusion I’ve referred to the collective northern tribes simply as Caledonians, although there was an actual Caledonii tribe in central Scotland, in addition to the Maetae, Picts and Selgovae, to name just a few.
As the heroine’s hair colour is an important aspect of the story, it’s also worth noting that several Roman sources, including Tacitus’s Agricola, describe the northern tribes as having red hair.
North Britannia, AD 197
‘Halt!’
Livia woke with a gasp, startled back to her senses by the shout. With a lurch, the carriage rolled to a standstill, jolting her forward on the bench at the same moment as she heard a dull clanking of armour and a heavy thud outside, like dozens of feet all stamping the ground at once.
Quickly, she pulled herself upright, tightening her arms around the four-year-old girl asleep in her lap. To her amazement, their unscheduled halt hadn’t disturbed her, though Livia had the ominous feeling that something was about to.
‘What’s happening? Are we under attack?’
Porcia, her maidservant sitting opposite, sounded on the verge of hysteria. Despite the presence of an armed escort, the girl had been a bundle of nerves ever since leaving Lindum a month ago. Perhaps with good reason, Livia thought grimly. Her own anxieties had been gathering in strength the closer they travelled to Coria, though for very different reasons.
And now this! Whatever this was... She felt a shiver of fear, as if an icy claw had pierced its way through her chest and was clutching her heart, making her feel cold all over.
‘I don’t think so.’ She leaned over, trying to see out of the carriage window, but whatever was happening was taking place at the head of their small procession. ‘I don’t hear any fighting.’
‘What if it’s Caledonians?’
‘They’re on the other side of the wall. This side is under the Pax Romana, remember?’
‘Barely.’ Porcia’s bottom lip trembled. ‘They say only savages live this far north.’
‘Who say so?’
‘Civilised people. Romans...like us.’
‘Like us.’ Livia repeated the words sceptically. ‘Well then, it must be true.’
Not that now was the time to be debating the merits of Roman society with her maidservant, she admonished herself, though somehow the words themselves gave her courage, forcing the claw to relax its grip slightly. If civilised Roman society said that she ought to be afraid then she’d be more than happy to prove civilisation wrong.
In