Weekend Wind Down – Brothers

In a modern day Britain where the Roman Empire never left, Dai and Julia solve murder mysteries, whilst still having to manage family, friendship and domestic crises…

It felt strange to Dai to be walking the paths he had run along as a child. His last visit had been for the Saturnalia holiday of the previous year and the weather then had been more about staying in than trekking the muddy fields and vineyards. So he let Hywel talk excitedly about proximal sensors and infrared thermography, the latest developments in soil monitoring devices and his experiments in using a portable field fluorometer to check both the chlorophyll density in the leaves of his vines and the polyphenols in their grapes.
They crested the low hill from where the old farm buildings could be seen, modern extensions reaching out like embracing arms towards them. Dai wondered why it was he didn’t feel any sense of belonging anymore. Maybe because he really did not belong and had not since the day Hywel had disinherited him for choosing life as a Vigiles rather than staying home and working in the family business. Hywel had mellowed and they had made up last year, but only once there were three lives between Dai and any chance of inheritance. He somehow thought the naming of their fourth son was Hywel and Enya’s way of apologising for it all.
“So, once we have the new plant set up we should be able to convert several thousand litres a year of the waste must from the column stills and then -” Hywel broke off. “You’re not listening are you?”
Dai shook his head, still gazing out over the neat rows of vines.
“Not really, but the biofuel idea is a good one. People round here could use it, though I doubt you’d find much market for it elsewhere in the Empire. Solar is the way most are going.”
Hywel laughed and clapped Dai on the shoulder. “So you were listening.”
“I always did,” Dai said, simply. “Except when my heart disagreed.”
Hywel’s hand remained, suddenly heavier.
“Your mother…”
“My mother?”
Hywel’s hand lifted.
“I’m sorry. She’s been mother to me and my sisters as much as you. Has been from the day she arrived and you know I couldn’t love her more. But, what I was trying to say, she and I had hoped you’d like the Fionn girl, Megan. She would have brought you a nice little farm of your own as well.”
Dai snorted. “You mean that teenager you had me take out for a meal when I was here at Saturnalia? She was pretty much half my age and we didn’t have anything in common. She just sat there and made moon eyes at me then demanded we took selfies to share with her friends.”
“I just wanted…”
“You just wanted to be a family again. I know. Your heart was in the right place.”
“And what about yours? Your heart is with Rome now? You are a citizen, you’ve married a Roman, you’ve…”
“I’ve married the woman I love who happens to be a Roman, and I got to be a citizen saving her life. None of that was planned and this,” he held up his index finger with it’s silver band of privilege then pulled the ring off and threw it as far as he could, glinting with a flash of silver in sky then dropping to earth to be lost amongst the vines, “is what I think of Rome.”
Hywel tried to catch Dai’s hand as he threw, but he was nowhere near fast enough.
“You could get into trouble for that kind of thing,” he snapped and shook his head. “Always the hothead. You ever wonder why I didn’t like that you joined the Vigiles?”
“Because I missed your wedding?” Hywel laughed. “That didn’t help at the time. But it was because of the way you are. You joined up fired for justice and I knew that one way or another you’d hit your head on the ceiling Rome shoves over our British heads. I didn’t like to think how that would twist you.”
Dai felt an odd sensation inside his chest.
“You were not wrong, but I was lucky,” he said. “The first prefect I worked under was a man who saw justice wore a blindfold when it came to Briton or Roman and I found myself with a decanus who could strip paint with his cynicism.” He grinned at the thought. “Between them they taught me a lot. But I still see red sometimes and Bryn’s had to pull me out of it more than once.”
“I’m glad. I was scared you’d go spinning off into one of those extremist groups like this Dynion o Brydain that Enya’s Da is getting tangled up in. He wanted me for it too. But little as I like Rome, I’m not going to start killing people for their nationality – would make me no better than the very worst of them.”

From Dying for a Poppy by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook