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“Wind and waves. My men thought your gods were trying to drown us,” the general said, offering me his hand as he led me to my seat.

“Perhaps they were. But ultimately, we let you get a few leagues further than Caligula.”

At that, the Romans laughed.

“No seashells in our pockets this time,” Legate Celerus told me.

“Pity. They’re so pretty,” I replied.

Aulus chuckled, then gave me a knowing look. He was clearly not under any illusions about me being a pampered princess who only loved pretty things. Perhaps I had ruined that game by leaving Ystradwel to greet him.

The Romans were seated. The general’s men, my warriors, and Chieftain Brennan and his men joined us. Corva stood protectively behind my chair.

During the meal, we made pleasant conversation as the general asked benign questions about the hairy cattle he had seen on the way from the port, commenting on the significant number of sheep that dotted the landscape, and remarking on the mead quality. Down the table, Brennan was careful in his conversation with Titus, who laughed loudly and merrily and drank more than a fish. Brennan kept things light and sidestepped important questions with great acumen.

It was amazing to me the skill with which General Plautius could talk about absolutely nothing while his eyes roamed everywhere, taking in everything.

The conversation turned to libations, the Romans sharing the many different drinks they had discovered as they traveled across the world. In so doing, I discerned what I knew to be true. General Plautius led many successful campaigns in faraway regions of the empire.

“But aren’t the fruits of one’s home always the best tasting?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the general. Fabius had remembered Aulus Plautius. In particular, he recalled that the man owned a vast vineyard.

The general grinned at me, then lifted his goblet and sipped.

“Aulus’s vineyards produce the best wine,” Titus piped in. “I never miss a chance for a dram of that ambrosia.”

“And does your lady wife attend to your vineyard while you are away on campaigns, or does Lady Pomponia stay with herRoman relatives in Rome?” I asked casually, causing the general to sit back in his seat.

He chuckled. “She stays in the city, as you already know.”

I merely smiled at him.

When the meal was done, Conall led the others away, leaving me alone with Corva, a small guard, and the general, the legate, and Aulus’s secretary.

“Now, you must tell us, Queen Cartimandua. In this land where we have received a less-than-warm welcome, why have we been invited to Rigodonum?” Legate Celerus asked.

“I do not recall inviting you at all, Legate. Although, I am glad to make your acquaintance.”

He chuckled. “As we are to make yours. All it takes is a little asking to discover some interesting facts about this island. The Catuvellauni flex their power and usurp their neighbors. Yet, our friend King Verica tells us that the Brigantes are the true power on this island. He spoke highly of your grandfather and father before you. How many subtribes did Verica tell us that the Brigantes swallowed?” Legate Celerus asked Aulus.

“I lost count,” the general replied.

“Many,” I answered.

“So, given your reputation, Aulus and I had to wonder… Didn’t Caratacus and Togodumnus beg your aid? Have they asked you to ride south?”

“They have.”

“But you have not.”

“I am seated here, am I not?”

“Then you are no friend to the Catuvellauni.”

“I am no enemy to the Catuvellauni.”

“And some say you are allied with Cornovii King Ord,” Legate Celerus added, goading me.

“Do they say that? Fascinating.”