The Warrior's Bride Prize

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘None the less, in the future...’

  ‘I’ll ask.’ She flung the bag over her shoulder, adopting what she hoped was a convincing smile, but which she had a strong suspicion didn’t fool him at all. ‘I promise.’

  * * *

  ‘What is it?’ Marius knew the Decurion well enough to know when something was wrong.

  ‘Not here.’ Ario jerked his head, leading him inside the camp headquarters, through the main hall and into the commander’s office.

  ‘Why the secrecy?’ Marius drew his brows together as Ario closed the door behind them.

  ‘It’s something you might not want others to know. It’s about your wife.’

  ‘Livia?’ Every muscle in his body seemed to go rigid at once. ‘What about her?’

  ‘I found her in the prison a few minutes ago.’

  He felt a cold, prickling sensation at the back of his skull. ‘And?’

  ‘She claimed she was taking the prisoner some food.’

  ‘Claimed?’ The coldness seemed to be spreading, trickling down his spine as if there were a block of ice slowly melting against his neck. ‘Don’t you believe her?’

  ‘I do. I just don’t think it was all she was doing.’ Ario muttered an oath. ‘Look, Marius, what do you know of her loyalties? Where is she from?’

  ‘Lindum and I trust her.’ Even as he said it, he felt a cross-current of doubt. Did he really trust her? ‘Get to the point, Ario. What are you trying to tell me?’

  ‘She was speaking to him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The prisoner. She was speaking Caledonian.’

  The cold reached his toes and fingertips at the same time, as if all his blood had just frozen. ‘Are you certain?’

  The Decurion nodded gravely. ‘I only caught the last of it, but, yes, it was definitely Caledonian. She speaks it better than I do.’

  Marius gripped hold of a chair back, clenching the wood in his fists as he tried to understand. How the hell could she speak Caledonian?

  ‘Do you think she might be a spy?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head, certain of that much at least. How could she be? Her brother was a respected citizen of Lindum. He’d sent her north against her will. She’d never seen the wall before—her emotional response to it had proved that much—so how could she be spying for the tribes?

  The wooden chair splintered apart in his hands as a new idea dawned on him. New and improbable and yet, he was suddenly convinced, the truth. It made all the small things that had puzzled him about her finally make sense—her eagerness to see the wall, her barely concealed antagonism towards Rome, her reaction to the prisoner, the momentary pause when he’d asked which tribe her mother had belonged to...

  This has nothing to do with the Carvetti! That was what she’d told him yesterday and it was true because the Carvetti did have nothing to do with it. Because her mother hadn’t been Carvetti at all. She’d been Caledonian. Which meant that even if Livia wasn’t a spy, she was a liar.

  ‘She’s not a spy.’ He said the words with authority.

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded tersely. ‘I’ll deal with this. In the meantime, tell the guards not to let anyone but you or me near the prison and don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘What do you take me for?’ Ario gave him a sharp look. ‘Just make sure you find out where her loyalties lie. There’s too much at stake here to take risks.’

  ‘I know.’ Marius was halfway out of the door already. ‘I know.’

  * * *

  There was no sign of her in the courtyard. It was mid-morning, but the villa was silent, filled with dim and mysterious shadows. He felt an obscure sense of discomfort followed by a momentary panic. Had she run away? If she’d suspected that Ario had overheard her, then no doubt she would have guessed that he’d tell him. But if she’d run away, where would she have gone? In which direction?

  ‘Livia?’ He called her name, relieved to hear a faint answering call from the bedroom.

  ‘In here.’

  He followed the sound of her voice to the doorway. She was sitting in the middle of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them and her hair tumbling loose over her shoulders, so much of it that she looked half-hidden beneath the red tresses. All this time he’d taken her loyalty to the Empire for granted, assuming that she was more Roman than Briton. Now he didn’t know if she were Roman or rebel, but he had the uncomfortable suspicion that he might not like the answer.

  ‘Have you spoken to Ario?’ She got straight to the point.

  ‘Yes.’ He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb.

  ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘What do you think he told me?’

  A look of defiance mixed with guilt crossed her features. ‘I was only trying to help. I took the prisoner some food.’

  ‘Did you think I would starve a boy?’

  ‘No...maybe.’

  ‘Because I’m such a monster?’

  ‘No.’ She pressed her teeth into her lower lip. ‘But you called him a barbarian. I wanted to be sure he was all right.’

  ‘And was he?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So then you turned around again and left?’ He folded his arms. ‘Or is there something else you want to tell me?’

  Her gaze slid to one side guiltily. ‘I told him to answer your questions about the rebellion. I thought that if he told you what you wanted to know then you wouldn’t hurt him.’

  ‘I’ve already told you I’ve no intention of hurting him.’

  ‘Not you, but...’ she waved a hand ‘...others. I thought that perhaps you might let him go.’

  ‘He’s a prisoner, Livia. I can’t just let him go.’ He sighed. ‘So you admit that you spoke to him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How?’

  She dipped her head. ‘I told you, my mother was a Briton. She taught me some of her language.’

  ‘Is that so?’ He felt a surge of anger, pushing himself up off the doorjamb and advancing slowly towards her. ‘Except you told me she was Carvetti. According to Ario, you were speaking Caledonian. Or do you imagine us Romans don’t know the difference?’

  Her whole body tensed visibly and he took another step forward, looking down at her from the edge of the bed and lowering his voice dangerously.

  ‘Tell me the truth, Livia. No more lies.’

  For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then her face seemed to crumple abruptly.

  ‘I never wanted to lie! I had to, or at least with Scaevola I had to, and then I didn’t know how to tell you. I’ve spent the last ten years not being allowed to talk about it.’

  ‘Talk about what?’

  ‘The truth! I thought you might prefer not to know.’

  ‘I would imagine every husband wants his wife to tell him the truth... What’s so funny?’ He scowled as she gave a bitter-sounding laugh.

  ‘My first husband probably thought so, too, before he found out.’

  ‘I’m not your first husband,’ he growled. ‘I’m your second and I do want the truth.’

  ‘All right.’ She pressed her lips together tightly before looking up at him again, a look of resolve on her face. ‘The truth is that my mother was Caledonian. She came from north of the wall. She was also a slave.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Livia held her breath, waiting for Marius to respond, to show some sign that he’d heard her at least, though his stern expression gave nothing away. She hardly recognised the man she’d gone to bed with two nights before. This one looked as impenetrable as marble. Seconds or minutes might have gone by before he slowly unfolded his arms.

  ‘Go on.’

  She let the breath go in a rush, her body shuddering with relief. If he gave her an opportunity to explain, then th
ere was a chance, a faint one perhaps, but still a chance that he might understand, too.

  ‘Her name was Etain. She worked on my father’s country estate. He owned her for twelve years before they even met.’

  ‘Twelve years?’ He looked sceptical and she nodded.

  ‘It’s not so unusual. He lived mostly in town back then and he was still married to his first wife. It was only once he was widowed that he retired to the country. She was one of his kitchen slaves.’ She smiled sadly. ‘He used to say that he fell in love with her cooking before he even set eyes on her.’

  ‘Wait.’ Marius lifted a hand. ‘Go further back. What was she doing there in the first place?’

  ‘What do you think?’ She gave him a hard look. ‘What is any slave doing in a place that isn’t their home? Her village in Caledonia was one of those that defied the Romans when they were building the second wall.’

  ‘The Antonine?’

  ‘Yes. Roman legionnaires attacked at night so they barely had a chance to defend themselves. Everyone she knew was either killed or enslaved. She was only nine years old when she was brought south in chains and sold at market like an animal. My grandfather’s steward eventually bought her for his estate. She was a slave for thirty years.’

  ‘Until she met your father?’

  She nodded vigorously, fighting a swell of emotion. ‘They fell in love. It sounds unlikely, I know, that she could love a Roman after everything they’d done to her, but she told me once that thirty years is a long time to hate. She said that my father wasn’t responsible for what had happened to her village and that love was love, wherever and whoever it came from.’ She rested her chin on her knees, looking inwards rather than out. ‘Though even then she refused to marry him at first.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she wasn’t his only slave. There were others, a dozen of them from all over the Empire. She told my father that she could never give herself to a man who denied happiness and freedom to other people.’

  ‘That’s why he set them free?’

  ‘Every one of them.’ She smiled proudly. ‘When Tarquinius heard about it he thought he’d gone mad. He even tried to stop the marriage, but by the time he arrived it was too late. My mother said they had a huge argument about it. He made my father promise never to tell anyone about her and never to go back to Lindum.’

  ‘His own father?’

  ‘Yes. Tarquinius was afraid of what it would do to his reputation if people found out that his father had married one of his slaves, so it was all kept secret. He probably bribed or threatened anyone who knew the truth. Fortunately, my mother didn’t care. She’d no desire to play the Roman lady and she loved my father. She thought that she was too old to have children, but then I came along and we were happy, her and Father and me. She taught me how to cook, as well as some Caledonian customs, including the language. She always told me that Caledonia was as much a part of my heritage as Rome. I grew up thinking of myself as belonging to both. It never occurred to me that other people wouldn’t think that way, too.’

  ‘Then what happened?’ His expression was still inscrutable.

  She lifted her chin from her knees, looking at him sombrely. ‘She died. We thought it was just a cough at first, but it was more serious than we realised. One moment she was healthy and the next she was...gone. My father was heartbroken. It sent him into a decline, but he loved me and he knew that Tarquinius loathed me simply because of my mother. I think he clung on to life for as long as he could just to protect me, but eventually he got sick, too.’ She took a deep breath, blinking back tears. ‘Just before he died, he summoned Tarquinius and made him swear to take care of me, to treat me like a real sister.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Maybe, although I don’t suppose that was saying very much in the first place. After the funeral, he took me back to Lindum and handed me over to his wife, but she hated me even more. She made me attend to her every whim, treating me like a slave in my own brother’s home. Then one evening, one of his business associates, Julius, a man twenty years older than me, noticed me standing in the background. I saw him staring, but I didn’t think anything of it until Tarquinius summoned me to his office the next day.’

  She shook her head at the memory. ‘He walked around me, looking me up and down as if I were an animal to be inspected. Then he said that he’d arranged a marriage for me. He didn’t ask or offer me a choice. He just told me I was going to be married.’

  ‘To Julius?’

  ‘Yes. I was horrified, but Tarquinius said that I ought to feel honoured, that I ought to be grateful to him even for arranging any marriage at all considering who I was.’ Anger stiffened her spine. ‘That was how he said it, who I was, as if I were somehow repellent to him. Then he said that I should never mention my mother, not to a single living soul, but especially not to Julius, and that if anyone asked, I was to say she’d been a Roman widow from a nearby village. He said that if I told...’ She faltered over the words, the old fear reasserting itself.

  ‘If you told...’ Marius’s voice had a sharp edge to it.

  ‘If I told, then he wouldn’t be held responsible for the consequences.’ An icy shudder ran through her. ‘I was only fourteen at the time. I didn’t know what he meant, but he frightened me. He still frightens me... In any case, I went through with the marriage and I never told anyone. In ten years I’ve never spoken about her until now. It feels strange even saying her name.’

  ‘So that’s your excuse—’ the muscles in his jaw were bunched, as if he were clenching them all together ‘—that it’s simply become a habit not to speak about your mother?’

  ‘In part—’ she ignored the sarcasm ‘—although believe it or not, I wanted to tell you. I loved my mother. I was proud of her. She was so full of life and love and happiness despite how hard her life had been. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t talk about her. And Julius wasn’t a bad man, not really. He was kind to me at first. After a while I thought that he wouldn’t even mind if I did tell him the truth, but I was too afraid of Tarquinius to take the risk. Then he found out, just after Julia was born.’

  ‘But if you didn’t tell him...’

  ‘Tarquinius. After everything he’d made me promise, he was the one who told.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Money. He’d arranged the marriage thinking an alliance would make Julius more obliging in business. It did for a while, but he kept on pushing for more until eventually my husband refused. So Tarquinius told him everything, about my mother, about where she came from, about her being a slave. He threatened to tell the whole of Lindum if Julius didn’t give him the prices he wanted.’

  ‘Blackmail?’

  ‘Yes. He destroyed my life and my daughter’s future over the price of a few wine barrels. But then the only thing my brother cares about is money. He probably never gave a thought to what would happen to me.’

  ‘What did happen to you?’

  She blinked, taken aback by the note of repressed anger in his voice.

  ‘Julius was furious, but he didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking. He wasn’t a violent man, although he wasn’t a particularly clever one either. If he’d thought about it for even a moment then he’d have realised that Tarquinius would never have gone through with his threat. It was his own reputation he would have been damaging, too. But Julius was so afraid of what people might say, of his family name being tarnished, that he gave in at once. He gave Tarquinius the low prices he wanted and took his anger out on me instead. Everything changed after that.’

  She picked up a strand of hair and wound it around her fingers. ‘Julius had always said that he loved my red hair, but afterwards he hated it. He used to stare at me as if I were some kind of monster. He called me names. Barbarian. Savage. That’s why I overreacted that night with Scaevola.’

  ‘You didn’t overreact.’


  She glanced up, surprised by the conviction behind the words. She’d left her hair loose deliberately, so that he could see how much of a Caledonian she really was, although her appearance didn’t seem to bother him.

  ‘After a couple of years I got used to his coldness, but then as Julia grew up he started to look at her in the same way, too. That was when the accusations started.’

  Marius sat down on the edge of the bed, his back towards her, though he kept his face half-turned to one side.

  ‘What kind of accusations?’

  She swallowed, trying to find the words. It seemed strange to be talking about the intimate details of her life with Julius, but now that she’d started she felt as though a wall were crumbling inside of her, releasing all of the pain she’d held in for ten years.

  ‘Livia?’ he prompted her and she jerked her head up.

  ‘He called me a lying whore and said that Julia wasn’t his daughter. Maybe because she looked so much like me and nothing at all like him. He accused me of sleeping with other men behind his back. It wasn’t true. I hardly left the house, let alone saw anyone else, but he was looking for reasons to divorce me and disown Julia, too. We were already leading separate lives, but he set his servants to watch me and report on everything I did. They saw his contempt, so they treated me the same way. I was despised and insulted every day behind my back and sometimes openly to my face. Only Porcia stood up for me.’

  ‘Your maid?’

  ‘Yes...’ she smiled affectionately ‘...although she was my slave first, only a girl when Julius bought her as a gift. It was still early on in our marriage and he thought that I’d be pleased. I was appalled. I gave her a document of manumission the same day, but she stayed anyway. She doesn’t know everything about me, but she suspects. She stayed even when I had nothing to pay her after Julius died.’

  ‘He left you nothing at all?’

  ‘Not a single denarius. After his funeral, I sent word to Tarquinius, though he didn’t answer at first. I thought that perhaps he wasn’t going to, that he was going to abandon us, but then he sent his henchmen to collect me. It was just like the first time. He didn’t ask what I wanted. He just told me that he was sending me here to marry again. Scaevola must have seemed like the perfect solution to his problems. Two birds with one stone. A way to get rid of me and make another useful alliance at the same time.’