Still, after a week of travel I could sense a new warmth in the air, and the land wind brought me a scent that I recognized from childhood. Since we had left Eburacum the weather had been fair, with a following wind. The big trading ship wallowed doggedly southward, not even needing to anchor when night fell. But now we were angling towards the shore. I put my arms around the curving prow, leaning out over the water.
“You look like the figureheads I have seen on some Greek vessels,” said Constantius behind me. He seemed younger and more sturdy somehow than I remembered, and I realized for the first time just how much it meant to him to be returning to his real life once more. Thoughtfully, I let him assist me back to the deck.
“What is that?” I gestured towards the headland, where the grey-green waters of a great river flowed steadily down to mingle with the blue sea.
“It is the Tamesis,” said Constantius, beside me. I turned to gaze with new interest at the low, rolling country above the line of sandspits.
“I played on that beach when I was a little child, while my father inspected the watchtower on the point,” I replied. “I remember wondering where the passing ships were going.”
“And now you are going with them,” Constantius smiled.
I nodded, leaning against his solid strength. There was no need to burden him with my sudden longing to go home. It was, in any case, impossible. My father was dead, and one of my brothers as well. The other was serving with the false emperor Tetricus in Gallia. In the palace at Camulodunum a distant cousin ruled now. The home of my childhood was gone as surely as the little girl who had once gathered shells on that sandy shore.
I clutched at the rail as the ship leaned into the wind that blew down the river, tacking across its mouth towards the narrow channel between the isle of Tanatus and Cantium. We spent two nights at an inn, while Viducius supervised the loading of additional cargo, but before I had quite got my land-legs back we were afloat once more.
Now, we had not even a glimpse of shoreline to show us our direction, only the sun and the stars, when the clouds parted and we could see them. But I began to wonder if the senses that Ganeda had stripped from me were returning, for I found that even when the mists surrounded us I could feel Britannia behind us, and as the hours passed, I began to sense a new energy ahead. On the third day, as the sea-mist dissipated in the morning sun, I saw ahead a horizon smudged with islets, the many-branched channels of the delta of the Rhenus that guarded the way to Germania Inferior.
Our destination was Ganuenta, where the River Scaldis flowed into the delta of the Rhenus, a major transfer point for shipping from the continent to Britannia. While Constantius made arrangements for our transport up the Rhenus, I was free to explore the marketplace that adjoined the port, the faithful Philip at my side. Like all frontiers, it was an amalgam of cultures, where the gutturals of the Germanic tongues mingled with the sonority of Latin. Since the days when Arminius destroyed Varus and his legion, the Rhenus had been the border between Free Germania and the Empire. But for over a century it had been a peaceful boundary, and the folk who brought their furs and their cattle and their cheeses across the river to market seemed little different from the tribes on the Roman side.
I was looking at wood carvings at one of the market stalls when someone called my name. Turning, I recognized Viducius, got up in a toga with a basket of apples under his arm.
“Are you going to a party?” I asked, indicating the fruit.
“No, although I will see a noble lady—I am on my way to the temple of Nehalennia to give thanks for the safe voyage. You would be welcome to accompany me.”
“I would like that. Philip, you must find Constantius and tell him where I have gone. Viducius will escort me home.”