The Memory of Snow Read Online Free PDF Page A

future
celebrations if the rumours were true, so they were determined to enjoy
themselves while they could.
    ‘Ho! Praise to Saturn!’ laughed Marcus in response. He was wearing
a colourful outfit begged from one of the sloe-eyed sisters in the vicus. As he
left her house, Aelia had placed the pileus, or ‘freedman’s hat’ on his fair
hair and stretched up to kiss him.
    ‘Enjoy yourself this week. It is the strangest sight, seeing
all you men dressed as women,’ she said. ‘I hope you do not forget yourselves
and become less than masculine after the celebrations end!’
    ‘With beauties such as you and you sisters so close to us,
that is hardly likely!’ said Marcus. ‘Thank you once again for these wonderful
robes!’ He lifted the edge of the purple cloth and let it drop again. ‘I cannot
recall seeing you in this, Aelia? I hope it is not your best outfit. I cannot
forgive myself if that is so.’
    ‘Dear Marcus! Do not worry. I have many, many outfits. You
beautiful men do not see most of them! Or indeed, do you even see any of them?’
Her eyes twinkled and she kissed him again. ‘Just return my dress after the
week is over and do not forget who you are. Agreed?’
    ‘Agreed,’ said Marcus. He bowed to her and made his way back
to the fort. On his way, he threw a few coins into the Sacred Well.  The
cohort had dedicated this Well to Coventina, the water goddess. It was an open
air shrine, made from a natural spring which started at the Well and gurgled
past the Mithraeum and the shrine to the Water Nymphs. One day, he had walked
the length of the stream and stood and watched as it emptied into the River
Tinea, near Carvoran fort. He had a great respect for Coventina. She was the
goddess who eased them out of the harsh winters they experienced at
Carrawburgh; the goddess who helped the ice and snow melt and returned water to
the frozen landscape. This Saturnalia, her help would be appreciated more than
usual. The ground was icy underfoot and drifts of snow piled up against the
walls of the fort and the buildings in the vicus. Someone had been out and
broken the thick ice which had formed on the surface of the Well. Marcus
thought it would do no harm to pacify Coventina by offering her a few denarii.
What did the coins matter to him, really, anyway? He was well-paid and could
afford to give some coins to the goddess.
    Marcus walked past the Mithraeum, and stole a glance inside
it. The door was open, which was unusual. He could see someone inside, reaching
their hand out to touch an altar; another soldier, he guessed, celebrating
Saturnalia by being clothed in white. His heart swelled with pride as he
thought about his altar, which now stood propped up against the inside wall.
     
    DEO INVICTO MITRAE M SIMPLICIVS SIMPLEX PREF VSLM
    "To the Invincible God Mithras, the prefect Marcus
Simplicius Simplex, willingly and deservedly fulfills his vow."
     
    He knew this would be the case, whatever the Pater asked him
to do. Being initiated into the cult was the second most important thing he had
done in his life. The first thing, had been to join the Roman Army.
     
    Marcus had walked on past the temple and up to the fort. He
nodded at the guard standing at the gate, and the guard moved aside to let
Marcus in. It looked faintly ludicrous – both the men wore female clothing and
hats, yet they still had the stature and bearing of soldiers. Saturnalia was a
time for revelry and feasting; a time to eat, drink and be merry. The fort was
decorated in swathes of greenery and candles stood in alcoves and niches around
the building. A long, low couch had been placed in the quadrant inside the
fort, and it was on this that Janus was reclining.
    Two of the most honoured officers in the Cohort stood to his
side, and he waved them away regally as Marcus approached him.
    ‘Please, bring my friend Marcus some wine and some food. He
must be tired after his exercise,’ called Janus. The men bowed and moved away
from the couch.