Author’s Notes

My other Roman series is set in the early Empire, and the sources, archaeological, epigraphic and literary are rich. By contrast, the sources for the period of the Severan dynasty are much sparser. This is a blessing and a curse. One the one hand, it means that research is difficult, and much is open to opinion and speculation. On the other hand, this is fiction, and speculation is what historical authors are all about.

Below is the entirety of the text from Herodian and Cassius Dio that pertains to the Expeditio Felicissima Britannica. Cassius Dio was a contemporary of Severus, who in his career was a senator, a governor and a proconsul, and knew Severus personally. However, he was hostile to Severus, and even more so to Caracalla, which means that while not guilty of sycophancy, he has a tendency to pick the worst interpretation of Caracalla’s actions. This bias allows me to explore a less black and white demonic view of Caracalla’s character in this book and the following ones in the series.

Herodian wrote a little later than Cassius Dio and is prone to inaccuracy. He is also thought to be somewhat hostile to Severus and Caracalla.

The other main text regarding the period is the Historia Augusta mentioned above, which is notoriously unreliable. It provides no information on the Expeditio Felicissima Britannica, except to note Severus’ death in Eboracum. A few other ancient texts mention the expedition, but these were written much later.

My usual approach to historical fiction is to try not to write stories that are clearly in conflict with the historical record. However, I am quite happy to fill in the gaps with an entertaining and hopefully plausible story. I am also happy to choose between the less likely of two possibilities if it makes a good story, and this book has a notable example of this: the relationship between Caracalla and his mother/stepmother.

It is generally believed that Caracalla was born in AD 188, the child of Julia Domna and Septimius Severus, and full brother to Geta. However, Dr Ilkka Syvänne, Associate Professor at the University of Haifa and the author of the only full-length text on Caracalla, contends both in his book and in personal correspondence to me that it is possible that Caracalla was born to Severus’ first wife, Paccia Marcian, in AD 186 or 174, and that the date attested in the Historia Augusta, AD 174, is the more likely. The affair between Julia Domna and Caracalla is also not my invention. Herodian claimed that the Alexandrians called Julia Domna ‘Jocasta,’ the name of Oedipus’ mother, possibly in reference to rumours about an affair between Caracalla and his stepmother. The arguments are given more detail in Dr Syvänne’s book, but the fact that it is possible is enough licence for me (in my personal rulebook) to play with this story.

Another liberty that I have taken with the known history is the unattested (i.e. made up!) battle at Cilurnum. However, the evidence of the exact nature of Caracalla’s campaign are very limited, to the extent that even the chronology of the campaigns of those years is disputed. It seems that there were few pitched battles in the Expeditio Felicissima Britannica, the Caledonians and Maeatae having learned both from historical encounters such as Mons Graupius, and probably from initial encounters in the Severan invasion, that guerilla warfare and raiding was a safer strategy. That does not mean that large scale confrontations were completely absent, especially if unintended: I suggested in my narrative that Maglorix’s intention was to avoid Caracalla’s legions and raid deep into Britannia province instead.

Oclatinius, on the other hand, is a real historical character, albeit one about whom little is known. Marcus Oclatinius Adventus was a procurator in the service of Severus, but he seemed to have had an extraordinary career, starting in the ranks as a common soldier, being promoted to the Speculatores, the scouts, like Silus, and moving on to the Frumentarii, the spies that formed the Imperial intelligence service, probably as a centurion, then a camp commander. After the period covered in this book, under the sponsorship of Caracalla, his career rose to even greater heights despite his advancing age. In my book, though, I have placed Oclatinius as the head of the Arcani.

Only a tantalising glimpse of the Arcani or Areani is found in the sources. Areani, the term recorded in the extant copies of Ammianus Marcellinus, means ‘people of the sheep-folds’, and may relate to the fact that many of the members of this secret order were recruited from the rural dwellers of the lands between the walls. The term Areani is in fact a hapax legomenon, meaning that the word is only recorded once in the entire existing literature of a language. Ammianus Marcellinus relates how the Areani were involved in the Great Conspiracy of AD 367, taking bribes to provide intelligence to the invading Picts. Due to their role in this betrayal, the order was disbanded by Theodosius the Elder, father of Theodosius the Great.

Arcani is Latin for ‘secret ones’, and I have chosen this term over the Areani for two reasons. Firstly, the term Arcanus is found written in good hand in one of the Vindolanda scrolls. Secondly, the fact that this order is not mentioned anywhere until it was finally brought out of the shadows by its ill-deeds after it had existed for centuries suggest that it was indeed extraordinarily secret. The scarcity of information about the Arcani therefore gives the historical author considerable latitude to invent the society in more detail, which I have taken shameless advantage of.

I’ll say only a few words on the Celts, as the subject can and does fill volumes. The Celtic people did not have a written language, and so were generally seen through the eyes of their enemies, particularly the Romans. The Celts were often held up by the Romans as ideals of how things used to be better in the olden days, while simultaneously condemning them as uncivilised and uncultured illiterates. I have referred to the Celts in this book as barbarians, since barbarian was the word the Romans used for all non-Romans, although ironically the Romans themselves would have been considered barbarians by the Greeks who invented the term (the Greek word barbaros was onomatopoeic, referring to the fact that all non-Greek speakers sounded like they were speaking nonsense, ‘bar, bar, bar.’) The term barbarian should not be taken to infer any value judgement on the respective societies, but this novel is written largely from the perspective of the Romans and reflects their viewpoint. However, the Celtic culture which once encompassed large swathes of Europe and extended into Asia was rich and sophisticated.

Religion played an important role in the lives of the ancients, both barbarian and Roman. At this time period, a number of Eastern mystery religions were vying for prominence in the Empire, including the cults of Christ, Mithras, Isis and Serapis, with Severus being a devotee of the latter. Various local gods were also worshipped, some merged with Graeco-Roman equivalents such as Sulis-Minerva in Bath (this combining of different beliefs is called syncretism). I’ve mentioned a few pre-Christian Celtic gods. Teutates, Esus and Taranis are Celtic gods mentioned by Lucan (Teutates being a variant spelling of the God mentioned frequently in the Asterix books, though I have resisted the temptation of putting the words ‘By Toutatis!’ in any of my characters’ mouths). The Aos-sídhe are fairies which were worshipped in pre-Christian Scotland. Cailleach Bhéara, the divine hag, was a creator, an ancestor and a weather goddess.

Christianity at this stage was still finding its identity. Some persecutions against Christians are likely to have been carried out around this time, and the martyrdom of St Alban may have happened under Geta’s watch when he was governing Britain. Many Christians will have viewed the Christian God and Christ as one of many in the pantheon who should be respected to be on the safe side, though clearly many will have followed the Christian teaching that there is only one God.

So ends Silus’ origin story. The next instalment in the Imperial Assassin series, Emperor’s Knife, sees Silus embroiled in the vicious sibling rivalry of Caracalla and Geta. The coming year will bring chaos, murder, scandal, divided loyalties and impossible choices. Silus’ skills and morals will be severely tested.