White Raven's Lover

by Nhys Glover

  ‘Gaius is very like me. Too like me. And by the time I’d learned from my mistakes, he was grown up and living his life in my image. Always second best, never good enough.’

  For a few moments, Brennwen held her tongue, keeping her brewing fury at bay by focusing on the playing children, who were now covered in mud and sopping wet. But when she started shaking to keep control, she finally gave in.

  Her words spurted forth with the force of her pent fury ‘But Gaius is not second best. He’s a powerful, decisive man who advises the governor. And he’s a noble fighter. I saw him defeat my father, a big brute of a man, as if it was nothing. Then he organised Cal’s rescue effortlessly. How can you say he’s not good enough!’

  Her fierce words had Bibulus laughing again. ‘You are a fiery little thing, aren’t you? I didn’t say I thought Gaius was second best or never good enough. That is his view of himself. And it doesn’t matter what the rest of us see, it’s what he sees that matters.

  ‘Do you know about Anniana – Lara?’

  Still fuming she snapped out her reply. ‘I know Gaius helped to kill his brother because he did terrible things and was trying to return her to Rome so she could be given to the emperor.’

  ‘My little Anniana was the sweetest child that ever came into the world. How she stayed that way in her mother’s household, I don’t know. But she did, and right from an early age, she understood that such artificial distinctions as class and slavery were meaningless. Her best friend was her slave, and she fell in love with a slave, my assistant and her mother’s bedslave.

  ‘When her mother came up with plans for Anniana, I came up with my own. I freed Vali and set him the task of taking my precious daughter to her new husband. But Anniana had different plans, and she fought to win over the man she loved, a man who knew he wasn’t good enough for her. She let Annia Minor die, and became reborn as a liberti called Lara. Even after her mother and brother died and the danger was passed, she remained dead to her society so that she could continue to be the wife of an ex-slave, and a non-citizen.

  ‘There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t fear her choices and yet applaud them. She is the only one of us who has managed to stay true to herself. I’m very proud of her.’

  He paused for a moment with a gentle smile on his lips.

  Brennwen felt anger brewing anew in Gaius’ defence. How could he not feel second best when his father so obviously preferred the baby of the family? Wasn’t there anyone who loved Gaius best?

  ‘I tell you this because when Gaius saw his sister’s choices, his first reaction was to condemn them. It clashed with everything he believed in, everything he held to be true. He was disgusted by Vali because of his mother. Gaius saw Vali as no better than dung underfoot.

  ‘But because he loved Lara, as I love her, he accepted her choices and came to see her perspective. So much so, that he eventually chose a wife based on affection rather than political gain.

  ‘Unfortunately, his zealous attempts to have his sister’s kind of life only ended in heart-ache. He’d tried to live my life, and then he tried to live the life his sister had chosen. Neither was the life he chose for himself. And so he was a failure in his own eyes.

  ‘Someday, I hope my boy will start to want to live his own life by his own rules. Because, until he does, he will never be happy, no matter what successes he has, no matter how others respect and admire him.’

  Cal came rushing over to them, a long brown dribble of mud running down his forehead and into his eyes. Absently, Brennwen wiped away the offending trickle with a rag she kept hanging from her belt. When caring for children, it always paid to keep rags at the ready to deal with such occurrences.

  Once his face was a little cleaner and she’d listened to his excited report on the game’s progress, she sent him on his way with a smile before turning back to Cal’s grandfather.

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ Brennwen demanded angrily, not wanting to see Gaius as the lost man his father described.

  ‘Because I think that you are part of the life he needs to make for himself. I saw how he spoke of you, and I’ve spent the last few days observing you. I want you to fight for him, little raven. I can see you love him. So I want you to fight for him, because he’ll break both your hearts if he can’t finally decide to live his own life. And I don’t want him to do that. He deserves to have the happiness his sister has found. He deserves that.’

  Confusion kept her silent. Was this upper class Roman suggesting Gaius should choose her over his responsibilities? But that went against everything her society, and his, believed in. He was supposed to sacrifice himself for the greater good. That was his path. How could this upright Roman senator be suggesting he do the very opposite?

  ‘You want me to convince him to choose me over his responsibilities?’

  Bibulus turned and ushered her toward the door. Reluctantly she allowed him to direct her inside. The shrieks of the children did make conversing difficult, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with this imposing, yet increasingly confusing, man.

  ‘You make it sound like I want him to run away with you. No, he will always have his responsibilities. But I want him to choose those responsibilities for himself, rather than being true to someone else’s set of values – even mine.’

  She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him in the shadowy atrium. ‘I can’t do that. Gaius is his own man. He will do what he thinks is best for his son, for his clan, for his people. What he feels for me is fleeting lust that will be supplanted when he finds another Roman patrician to marry. He loved Calidia. He told me he loved her and that they were happy.’

  ‘Calidia was a dear child, but she was as featureless as Gaius. No, before you defend him again, let me rephrase myself. Calidia was a mindless doll who did what she was told by her father and then by Gaius. She let them tell her who she should be, what she should think, and what she should want in life. I’m sure she thought she loved Gaius, just as I’m sure Gaius thinks he loved her. But how can you love someone if you don’t know who they really are? If all you see is the person they think they’re supposed to be?’

  Brennwen wanted to stamp her foot in fury. She wanted to hit the elderly man for his misguided assessment of the situation.

  Instead, she simply snapped out, ‘I know who Gaius is!’

  Bibulus beamed like Braedyn used to do when she finally mastered some difficult task. ‘I know you do. You’ve found the real Gaius under all the masks. I think you got that chance because Gaius came so close to losing everything that is truly important to him. Cal is the only thing that is true in his life. He loves him not because he should love him but because he does. When he thought he’d lose that truly real part of himself, he started to fight back. He trusted a strange little seer who told him where to find his son.

  ‘The mask would never have done that. Only the real man could do that. Only the real man could make such a radical plan and then carry it out. The mask would have gone for what was more logical and left the important decisions to those with more military experience. In those few short days, Gaius truly lived his own life for the first time. And that’s the man you love.’

  Bibulus began strolling again, lost in thought as he headed for the back of the villa. Brennwen was forced to keep pace with him, though her heart told her to run away from this man and his revelations.

  By the time they reached the open-roofed peristylium and sunshine once more, he was ready to continue. ‘But now that the danger is over, Gaius is slipping back into his old role again. And when he’s done that fully, the melancholia will set in again. That’s what Lara calls it. Melancholia. To me, it’s just a word for living death. It’s choosing to deny your needs, one time too often, until you cease to exist.’

  ‘How do you know this?’ she demanded in confusion. Every word rang frighteningly true and the last of her anger evaporated.

  ‘Because that was me before I stood up to Salvia, before I started fighting for the one tr
ue thing left inside me – my love for Anniana. Once I did that, I got back parts of myself I’d thrown away – Elaeni. I got the love of my life back, and was lucky enough not to have killed off her love for me by my choices.

  ‘I like to think that my revelations haven’t come too late. That I still have many years to live my life, but I can’t help regretting all the lost and empty years that went before.’

  Brennwen reached out and placed a comforting hand on the patrician’s arm. It felt like an offence to do such a thing, and yet it also felt right. Bibulus covered her hand with his own.

  ‘Thank you, dear girl. I feel as if I’ve bared my soul for the first time in my life. Thank you for being so compassionate. I hope you fight for my boy. He deserves you.’

  Brennwen still couldn’t believe that this man was valuing her in this way. No one had ever valued her so highly. And while he asked her to help Gaius choose his own path, she had to wonder whether she, too, had the right to do the same thing. If she wanted to be true to herself, what would her life really look like?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  25 April 86 CE, Venta BRITANNIA

  Gaius strode into the small Roman port town that had once been the heart of Belgae territory. At his side were Vali and Braxus. His body felt stiff after the long hours he’d kept it tense and at full attention. If his companions noticed his tension, they didn’t comment.

  When he’d told them his plan to avenge Brennwen, they’d both jumped at the chance to assist. Even though it hadn’t been his plan to involve anyone else, it felt good to have these men at his side again.

  If ever he doubted their friendship, he did so no longer. No one could ever hope to have such loyal support. It didn’t matter that they were ex-slaves, or that their bond had been forged because of the love they shared for the women in their lives, these two men were more brothers to him than his own had ever been.

  ‘Where is this bastard to be found?’ Braxus demanded, looking more dangerous than usual. He’d been like this ever since Gaius shared his reasons for wanting this man dead.

  ‘His name is Gwyndolos, and he’s a local milliner.’

  ‘Milliner? He sells fabric? That is no job for a man.’

  ‘Raping a child, and then having his friends do the same, makes him anything but a man,’ Vali ground out. His usual cheery nature had been missing in the last few days.

  ‘I have to buy Brennwen first, before he gets wind of my plans for him. I need the document in my hands before he dies.’

  ‘I assume you’ll hand him a sword to make it a little fairer?’ Vali said.

  ‘Yes. But from Brennwen’s description, I could probably kill him with my bare hands. The trouble with that idea is that I might enjoy it too much.’

  ‘Beaten and left in an alley is what he deserves. And enjoying retribution is not a bad thing,’ Braxus said with a disgusted grunt.

  ‘True. I hadn’t thought seriously about using my fists… It might be more satisfying.’

  ‘Much more. I wish I’d chosen that death for your brother. His death was too fast.’

  Gaius nodded, but couldn’t trust himself to say more. He still lived with the guilt he felt for his part in Publius’ death. And yet it had been well deserved.

  As was this death.

  After a series of questions to locals, they finally tracked down the small, struggling stall owned by Gwyndolos. The large, blotted woman behind the counter looked them up and down with obvious calculation as they approached.

  ‘Are you the wife of Gwyndolos, the milliner?’ Gaius asked.

  ‘I am. But ma dearly belov’d’s in the tavern, ‘stead o’ at ‘is tasks. What do yer want wi’ ‘im?’

  ‘He owned a slave girl called Brennwen.’

  ‘He did. But she run off years gone. Ungrateful little ‘ore. Why?’

  ‘I’ve come across the girl and I want to buy her.’

  ‘She’s a ‘scaped slave. Gotta be put to death, if she’s found.’

  ‘She’s not escaped if I own her. If she dies, she’s worthless to you.’

  The woman grunted in agreement, but Gaius could see the calculation in her eyes. ‘She’s worth a lot to yer, I can tell. What’ll yer give us fer ‘er?’

  Gaius named a price that he knew was far more than the woman had seen in a year.

  A greedy glint came into her eyes. ‘Well, see, havin’ ‘er punished for runnin’ off is worth more’n that to me.’

  ‘She didn’t run off. Your husband got her with child, and then set his friends on her to hide the fact. Those drunken bastards left her for dead in the woods.’

  That took the greedy glint from the hag’s eyes, he was pleased to see. Maybe he didn’t have to kill the bastard, after all. Maybe his wife would do it for Gaius. But he had to get the record of sale first.

  ‘Right then, in that case, yer have a deal. Come with me, I’ll take yer to ‘im. Hope you got the vellum to sign, ‘cause ‘e won’t ‘ave none. Lucky if ‘e’s still sober enough to sign ‘is mark.’

  The three men followed the woman down the alley to a rough hostelry in the back streets. The stench of the place was enough to make Gaius’ stomach turn, but the vomit he slipped on as he walked in the door was more than he was willing to stand.

  ‘Get him outside. I’ll wait across the road,’ he barked at the woman in disgust, as he turned and strode out of the fetid place as fast as his legs would carry him.

  The woman’s derisive chuckle followed him.

  When Gaius was outside again, breathing in gulps of fresh air, he looked at his friends to see if they were as repelled by their environment as he was.

  ‘Good thinking. I’ve seen too many places like that in my time. Happy to avoid this one,’ Braxus said with a sneer as he leaned against the stone wall of the building across the road.

  ‘The many ways a man chooses to degrade himself never ceases to amaze me,’ Vali added with repugnance.

  Relieved that his reaction hadn’t been deemed a weakness, Gaius relaxed a little and prepared himself for the wait.

  He wasn’t kept long. Moments later, the woman reappeared, holding the ear of a short, skinny man who was covered in filth.

  ‘There yer go gents, ma man, for whot ‘e’s worth. Got yer bill o’ sale and yer money?’’

  Gaius pulled out a carefully worded document of sale and a small bag of coins. He noted with interest that a few residents of the buildings nearby had come out to watch the entertainment. The man was whimpering like a beaten cur, and when his wife released him, he cowered away, wiping his runny nose on the back of his fleshless arm.

  ‘Wot’s this about?’ he asked, whining again when the big woman gave him a shove.

  ‘Yer little ‘ore ‘as turned up. She’s gonna finally be worth summant to us. Sign yer mark, yer bastard, ‘fore I give yer whot’s comin’ yer fer stickin’ yer nasty little prick somewhere’s it don’t belong.’

  ‘I… I didn’t do nothin’ to ‘er. Don’t believe a word that ugly little runt sayz!’

  Gaius took several deep breaths to calm himself. It had been hard enough dealing with his reaction when Brennwen told him what this man had done, but now, having seen the man who had hurt her so badly, it all became too real. His mind threw up revolting images of this cur abusing a much younger version of the girl he loved. He felt sick, and his hands began to shake.

  As if he understood what was happening to Gaius, Vali placed a calming hand on his shoulder. He took the leather pouch from Gaius’ shoulder and removed the vellum scrap, styllus and atramentum scriptorium, the black ink used on legal documents. He laid out the vellum on the wooden bench against the wall.

  While Vali held the man upright and made sure he signed his mark in the right place, Gaius began pacing. The more he thought of this creature abusing his sweet girl, the worse he felt. The rage was like acid eating at his guts. He wasn’t even sure killing this pathetic excuse for a man would help. The man was very nearly dead anyway, a lifetime of coarse brews having rotte
d his gut, inducing an all too common sickness that left him shaking and weak.

  A new plan suddenly came into his head. A more fitting plan.

  ‘Here’s your silver. You’ve earned it.’ He handed over the pouch of coins to the man once he finished his mark.

  ‘Give that ‘ere. He can’t be trusted with that much coin. He’ll ‘ave drunk it all away by days end, if ‘is mates ‘aven’t killed ‘im fer it first!’ the woman screeched, reaching for the pouch.

  Gaius motioned for Braxus to get the woman out of the way. The gladiator did so with cruel satisfaction, clamping his fingers into her fleshy arm and propelling her away.

  ‘Wait… I want the money that’s due me. Gerrof, yer foreign bastid. I want the money.’

  ‘A man has the right to his just deserts, woman,’ Gaius snarled at her, for the first time letting some of his sick rage out.

  ‘Gwyn, yer spend that silver an’ I’ll kill yer meself. I swear I’ll do it, yer beer-soaked bastid!’ the woman shrieked as she fought Braxus’ grip.

  But Braxus didn’t let go, and the crowd began to laugh as they watched her dragged, kicking and spitting, back down the alley.

  Vali handed over the signed document for Gaius’ inspection, then allowed the cur to open the small pouch in his shaking hands. It was more silver than the little runt had seen in a very long time, Gaius concluded, from the look on his face as he tipped the pouch’s contents into his hand.

  A couple of coins slipped through his fingers, barely hitting the dirt before eager hands scraped them up and ran away with them.

  ‘Giv’m back, yer lousy bastids. Give’m back,’ bleated the milliner as he tripped over his feet in an attempt to give chase.

  ‘Long gone. I suggest you make the most of what’s left while you’ve got it. Once your wife returns, you’ll lose the lot anyway. Give some to the hosteller to make sure the wine keeps flowing,’ Gaius said through gritted teeth. ‘You could have the strong stuff, not that watered down piss they usually give you. It’s what you deserve, after all.’