Cato's Cavalry
- Thread starter Cymraeg
- Start date
I looked into this when I was writing it. I've done more research than writing recently! It's complicated because early carrots didn't look much like modern ones - they were more purple and were smaller. But the Romans did have carrots - they were originally used for medicinal purposes. The problem is that sometimes they were confused for parsnips.
Nice update. I need to reread this and catch up again. Looking forward to it.
Shouldn't that be tongs instead of tongues?
Unless it's Pentecost, then it could be tongues of fire....Ack, corrected.
Sorry for the delay on this. I had seven articles to write over the past few weeks and then on Sunday I came down with a bad attack of the dread - and deadly - horrible MANFLU!
Hopefully normal service on multiples fronts will now be resumed.
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Cato paused for a moment – and then he went on chopping up the vegetables. A quick glance showed him that Beliatrix was staring at her with an odd, bemused, look on his face. After a while Cato broke the silence, saying: “But you aren’t going to kill my young friend Beliatrix here, are you? And why do you think that his brother murdered your father?”
She looked at them both, her eyes glittering with something. “Father always said that the two sons of the Dux were totally unlike each other – and totally irreconcilable. He said that the elder was an idiot in armour with a head full of rubbish and that the younger was a boy with his head in reality and his nose always in a book.” She looked at Beliatrix and sniffed disdainfully. “Father was always right.”
Cato did his best not to snort with laughter and then completed the job of cutting the vegetables. “I see. So – the theory about the murder though?” As he asked the question he filled the stewpot with the rabbit and the vegetables and then poured the water in. It was a bit rough and ready, but it would make a passable stew.
Their hostess looked at the stewpot for a moment and then looked back at Cato. “Father always knew that the Dux was thinking about him as his successor instead of his own sons. He didn’t want the job very much but-”
“That was why my father wanted to make your father his successor,” Beliatrix blurted suddenly. They both stared at him, a young man who suddenly looked very shameful and very scared. “Father always said that men who wanted power should never be given it. My brother…. He has always wanted power. Wants it very badly. But our father thought that such thoughts disqualified him from it.”
“A good point,” Cato muttered. “Those who want to rule must first learn about the dangers.”
It may have been a good point, but it was one that got him a wince from Beliatrix. “My brother thinks that he was born to rule. Born to lead. And there are those around who…. encourage such thinking.”
The water was starting to slowly steam as the kindling crackled and Cato carefully placed a few pieces of charcoal under the stewpot without burning his fingers.
“A week after Father took me to Eboracum he started to feel ill. He joked about it at first – said that after being on campaign in the North for so many years and getting used to the food, it was ironic to fall ill from town food. But there was something different about this. It was too fast and there was…” Her voice wobbled slightly. “Too much blood. No. He knew that someone had poisoned him. He had me ask quietly, as he grew thinner and paler by the day. I could never prove it, but there had been a temporary cook, one that was never seen again. No. He was poisoned. And it was your brother – or someone close to him – who ordered it. It had to have been.”
The room was silent now apart from the crackling of the fires. After a long moment Beliatrix broke the silence. “Father also suspected that your father had been poisoned,” He muttered slowly. “He just… well, he could not prove it. And then your father died and you disappeared…”
The glittering look in Cottia’s eyes was anger, Cato could tell that now. Anger and something else.
“Father told me to leave before he died. He kissed me goodbye and told me to leave for this place, so that I would be safe.” She said the words as if she had a mouth full of ashes. Ah. The something else was shame.
“Your father loved you then,” Cato replied as he stirred the stew slowly. “Sending you away was an act of love.”
She jerked her head towards him like an adder spotting a mouse. “I should have been there for him! Not… sent away like some helpless girl!”
Cato looked back at her, meeting her gaze. “I watched my own father die. Do you have any idea what that is like? To see the life drain out of someone that you love, right in front of you? And…” He paused for a moment as the grief flooded back, black and bitter in his mind like the vilest of poisons. And then the words finally emerged. “My wife died in my arms. Died in childbirth. Our son… didn’t survive her. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
Cottia stared at him, her eyes very wide, before she shook her head slightly.
“Good, because it’s something that your father was trying to shield from you, because he obviously loved you a great deal.” He looked down at the stewpot with what he knew to be empty, haunted, eyes. “Death is never pretty.”
Hopefully normal service on multiples fronts will now be resumed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cato paused for a moment – and then he went on chopping up the vegetables. A quick glance showed him that Beliatrix was staring at her with an odd, bemused, look on his face. After a while Cato broke the silence, saying: “But you aren’t going to kill my young friend Beliatrix here, are you? And why do you think that his brother murdered your father?”
She looked at them both, her eyes glittering with something. “Father always said that the two sons of the Dux were totally unlike each other – and totally irreconcilable. He said that the elder was an idiot in armour with a head full of rubbish and that the younger was a boy with his head in reality and his nose always in a book.” She looked at Beliatrix and sniffed disdainfully. “Father was always right.”
Cato did his best not to snort with laughter and then completed the job of cutting the vegetables. “I see. So – the theory about the murder though?” As he asked the question he filled the stewpot with the rabbit and the vegetables and then poured the water in. It was a bit rough and ready, but it would make a passable stew.
Their hostess looked at the stewpot for a moment and then looked back at Cato. “Father always knew that the Dux was thinking about him as his successor instead of his own sons. He didn’t want the job very much but-”
“That was why my father wanted to make your father his successor,” Beliatrix blurted suddenly. They both stared at him, a young man who suddenly looked very shameful and very scared. “Father always said that men who wanted power should never be given it. My brother…. He has always wanted power. Wants it very badly. But our father thought that such thoughts disqualified him from it.”
“A good point,” Cato muttered. “Those who want to rule must first learn about the dangers.”
It may have been a good point, but it was one that got him a wince from Beliatrix. “My brother thinks that he was born to rule. Born to lead. And there are those around who…. encourage such thinking.”
The water was starting to slowly steam as the kindling crackled and Cato carefully placed a few pieces of charcoal under the stewpot without burning his fingers.
“A week after Father took me to Eboracum he started to feel ill. He joked about it at first – said that after being on campaign in the North for so many years and getting used to the food, it was ironic to fall ill from town food. But there was something different about this. It was too fast and there was…” Her voice wobbled slightly. “Too much blood. No. He knew that someone had poisoned him. He had me ask quietly, as he grew thinner and paler by the day. I could never prove it, but there had been a temporary cook, one that was never seen again. No. He was poisoned. And it was your brother – or someone close to him – who ordered it. It had to have been.”
The room was silent now apart from the crackling of the fires. After a long moment Beliatrix broke the silence. “Father also suspected that your father had been poisoned,” He muttered slowly. “He just… well, he could not prove it. And then your father died and you disappeared…”
The glittering look in Cottia’s eyes was anger, Cato could tell that now. Anger and something else.
“Father told me to leave before he died. He kissed me goodbye and told me to leave for this place, so that I would be safe.” She said the words as if she had a mouth full of ashes. Ah. The something else was shame.
“Your father loved you then,” Cato replied as he stirred the stew slowly. “Sending you away was an act of love.”
She jerked her head towards him like an adder spotting a mouse. “I should have been there for him! Not… sent away like some helpless girl!”
Cato looked back at her, meeting her gaze. “I watched my own father die. Do you have any idea what that is like? To see the life drain out of someone that you love, right in front of you? And…” He paused for a moment as the grief flooded back, black and bitter in his mind like the vilest of poisons. And then the words finally emerged. “My wife died in my arms. Died in childbirth. Our son… didn’t survive her. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
Cottia stared at him, her eyes very wide, before she shook her head slightly.
“Good, because it’s something that your father was trying to shield from you, because he obviously loved you a great deal.” He looked down at the stewpot with what he knew to be empty, haunted, eyes. “Death is never pretty.”
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iddt3
Donor
Good to see this continuing. You know, if Britain stays urbanized, improves it's ship building (Which seems likely given that the builders are hundreads of years out of building for the calm Mediterranean , along with examples of the Sea Wolf ships) and the ERE continues to dominate the Spice Trade, they're in a good position to open the age of exploration a millennium early. That seems especially likely if relations between west and east deteriorate like they look to here.
Praise Well Earned
I think one of the big reasons this tale is so popular that we, your audience/fans, dragged you back for more of it, is that you do not treat your characters as if you were George Martin and they a collection of Starks.
Keep up the great work and we'll keep buying your ebooks and devouring them (with Garum or without).
Hero of Canton
Oh, she'll get better. Eventually.
I think one of the big reasons this tale is so popular that we, your audience/fans, dragged you back for more of it, is that you do not treat your characters as if you were George Martin and they a collection of Starks.
Keep up the great work and we'll keep buying your ebooks and devouring them (with Garum or without).
Hero of Canton
I suspect that younger Bellatrix and Cottia will get together. But what do I know.
Aha! As I suspected! You are a sentimentalist. I recognize the symptoms.
Hero of Canton
Hero of Canton
Indeed, you really need some intelligence to pull that kind of stunt off and get away with it...
Well, I thought maybe it would be Cato & Cottia getting together.