A Bitter Chill Read Online Free PDF

conspirators?” I suggested.
    He laughed. “I’ll let you know! But for now, tell me what you can about morale among the military in this area. You get soldiers dropping by here all the time. Has there been more grumbling and grousing than usual lately?”
    “Oh yes,” I said. “It’s been quite noticeable this year, especially with more and more men from the far north being moved back into our part of Brigantia. Not that I’m complaining, our bar takings have benefited from plenty of unhappy infantry drowning their sorrows.”
    “Good. What have they been moaning about?”
    “You mean besides their food, their pay, and their centurions? Mostly the way so many troops have been withdrawn from Britannia, to fight wars in other parts of the Empire. They feel the army here is being weakened, losing too many good men.”
    He nodded. “Are they complaining specifically about Caesar? Or just about their commanders in general?”
    “More about Caesar himself,” Albia answered. “They’ve been telling each other how Governor Agricola was all set to conquer the whole island of Britannia twelve years ago, but then Caesar threw away the chance, and it’ll never come again. Especially the older men, who served under Agricola himself.”
    “And you think it’s more serious than usual?”
    I considered it. “It’s unusual for them to be blaming Caesar in person, I suppose. Domitian has always been popular with the army.”
    “But we’re talking about bar-room grousing, not serious plotting,” Albia said. “And a good measure of bragging mixed in with it. If I had a gold piece for every soldier that’s told me how he was personally commended for bravery by Agricola on a battlefield, I could build myself a palace.”
    Lucius scratched his head and sighed. “I’ve some sympathy with their grumbling, you know. No, don’t worry, I’m not turning into a conspirator already! But Agricola was a brilliant general, and he was here for long enough to do really good work. He could have extended the province of Britannia to cover the whole of the island, or his successor could have done it. There was only the very northernmost part left to conquer when he was recalled.”
    “There’s nothing much up in the far north, though,” I put in. “Just mountains and mists and a bunch of wild Caledonian tribesmen. I always thought it would mean a lot of hard fighting for very little gain. If the barbarians can live there, they’re welcome to it.”
    “That seems to be what Caesar thinks too,” Lucius said. “With all his other wars, he hasn’t left us enough soldiers to advance further into the Caledonian lands, or even hold on to all the territory that Agricola conquered. So the frontier’s being pulled back little by little, and some of the legionaries don’t like it. It wouldn’t be too surprising if a few hotheads think they’d prefer a Caesar who takes Britannia more seriously. Well, if they’re based at Eburacum, I’ll find them.” He yawned suddenly. “Gods, the wine and food are making me feel tired. I may as well grab a couple of hours’ sleep, I think. And thank you both.” He smiled at us. “You never let me down, and I appreciate it.”
    “We’re family,” I answered, “and families stick together, no matter what.”
    It snowed for the rest of the night, but Lucius insisted on leaving for Eburacum as soon as there was enough light to see the road. He wouldn’t take a horse or a mule, because he’d have to account for how he came by it. So he put on dry boots and a fresh cloak, and Albia packed him a bag of food and a wine-skin.
    I went out as far as the main road to see him off. “Lucius, what was it you wanted to tell me that wasn’t for Albia’s ears?”
    “Ah, yes, I almost forgot. About Candidus.”
    “What about him?”
    “Something I overheard in Eburacum yesterday—only tavern talk, there may be nothing in it, but we can’t be too careful just now. He’s supposed to be mixed up in