By Paul Carrier
Earlier novels in Ruth Downie’s mystery series touched on the interplay between native Britons and their Roman occupiers during the days of the Roman Empire, but Semper Fidelis, the fifth entry, makes that often-tense relationship the focal point of a compelling tale.
Set in Britannia in 122 A.D., the novel finds protagonist Gaius Petreius Ruso, a “medicus,” back in the army after a brief hiatus. All he wants to do is practice medicine, but his investigative skills take center stage when native Britons recruited into the Twentieth Legion fall victim to mysterious injuries, and even death.
One Briton commits suicide after being rescued from a raging river while trying to save another British recruit, who drowns. A third recruit is attacked and killed, allegedly during a training exercise, while a fourth goes AWOL after a severe beating. Two other recruits are desperate to remove their native tattoos and downplay their British origins as the Twentieth prepares to march from the Roman fort at Eboracum (York) to Deva (Chester), in the west of Britannia.
The veteran centurion Geminus and the tribune Accius brush off Ruso’s questions about the mistreatment of recruits. But when Ruso and his native-born wife Tilla uncover evidence that Geminus and his cronies have been placing bets on whether recruits will survive sadistic ordeals, Ruso realizes that Roman bigotry is jeopardizing - and even taking - British lives.
Egged on by Tilla, who insists that Ruso intensify his efforts to protect the recruits, Ruso gambles everything when the Emperor Hadrian visits Eboracum. Well-intentioned but occasionally naive, Ruso shares his suspicions with Hadrian during a chance encounter at the base hospital. This triggers predictably negative repercussions for Ruso, whose situation grows even worse later, when he is falsely accused of a high-profile murder.
Downie places the novel’s action in a larger context that touches on such real-life issues as the construction of what became known as Hadrian’s Wall, which began in 122 A.D., and the strained relationship between Hadrian and his wife Sabina, who accompanies him to Britannia.
The bearded Hadrian, an admirer of Greek culture and a leader whom history regards as one of the so-called five good emperors, comes across here as a forceful visionary whose common touch and no-nonsense style served him well during his 21-year reign.
Ruso’s and Tilla’s trenchant and witty internal dialogues infuse Downie’s novels with a welcome dash of humor, as when Tilla muses over a letter that Ruso has received from his sister in Gaul. Ruso is in no hurry to read the letter because he knows his sister only writes to ask for money or other favors.
“That was one of the bad things about being able to read: people could nag you from a great distance,” the largely illiterate Tilla thinks. Later, letter in hand, Ruso finally decides to see what his relatives want, figuring “it was his duty to find out what it was before he refused it.”
A pregnant teenager named Virana, whom Tilla takes under her wing, also adds a light note to the proceedings, with the bubbly enthusiasm of a good-natured but very immature girl.
In fact, Downie’s wit pervades her Medicus novels, and Semper Fidelis is no exception. Instead of simply listing the cast of characters in the opening pages, for example, Downie places them in categories that are based on their interaction with Ruso. So, for example, Ruso is “accompanied by” his wife, “set straight by” Geminus, “ignored by” Hadrian’s secretary, Suetonius, etc.
Semper Fidelis has far more going for it than charm, however. It builds to a dramatic climax that points an accusatory finger in a suitably unexpected direction to solve the murder for which Ruso - and, later, an equally innocent British recruit - have been framed.
Set in Britannia in 122 A.D., the novel finds protagonist Gaius Petreius Ruso, a “medicus,” back in the army after a brief hiatus. All he wants to do is practice medicine, but his investigative skills take center stage when native Britons recruited into the Twentieth Legion fall victim to mysterious injuries, and even death.
One Briton commits suicide after being rescued from a raging river while trying to save another British recruit, who drowns. A third recruit is attacked and killed, allegedly during a training exercise, while a fourth goes AWOL after a severe beating. Two other recruits are desperate to remove their native tattoos and downplay their British origins as the Twentieth prepares to march from the Roman fort at Eboracum (York) to Deva (Chester), in the west of Britannia.
The veteran centurion Geminus and the tribune Accius brush off Ruso’s questions about the mistreatment of recruits. But when Ruso and his native-born wife Tilla uncover evidence that Geminus and his cronies have been placing bets on whether recruits will survive sadistic ordeals, Ruso realizes that Roman bigotry is jeopardizing - and even taking - British lives.
Egged on by Tilla, who insists that Ruso intensify his efforts to protect the recruits, Ruso gambles everything when the Emperor Hadrian visits Eboracum. Well-intentioned but occasionally naive, Ruso shares his suspicions with Hadrian during a chance encounter at the base hospital. This triggers predictably negative repercussions for Ruso, whose situation grows even worse later, when he is falsely accused of a high-profile murder.
Downie places the novel’s action in a larger context that touches on such real-life issues as the construction of what became known as Hadrian’s Wall, which began in 122 A.D., and the strained relationship between Hadrian and his wife Sabina, who accompanies him to Britannia.
The bearded Hadrian, an admirer of Greek culture and a leader whom history regards as one of the so-called five good emperors, comes across here as a forceful visionary whose common touch and no-nonsense style served him well during his 21-year reign.
Ruso’s and Tilla’s trenchant and witty internal dialogues infuse Downie’s novels with a welcome dash of humor, as when Tilla muses over a letter that Ruso has received from his sister in Gaul. Ruso is in no hurry to read the letter because he knows his sister only writes to ask for money or other favors.
“That was one of the bad things about being able to read: people could nag you from a great distance,” the largely illiterate Tilla thinks. Later, letter in hand, Ruso finally decides to see what his relatives want, figuring “it was his duty to find out what it was before he refused it.”
A pregnant teenager named Virana, whom Tilla takes under her wing, also adds a light note to the proceedings, with the bubbly enthusiasm of a good-natured but very immature girl.
In fact, Downie’s wit pervades her Medicus novels, and Semper Fidelis is no exception. Instead of simply listing the cast of characters in the opening pages, for example, Downie places them in categories that are based on their interaction with Ruso. So, for example, Ruso is “accompanied by” his wife, “set straight by” Geminus, “ignored by” Hadrian’s secretary, Suetonius, etc.
Semper Fidelis has far more going for it than charm, however. It builds to a dramatic climax that points an accusatory finger in a suitably unexpected direction to solve the murder for which Ruso - and, later, an equally innocent British recruit - have been framed.
