Her Roman Protector

by Milinda Jay

  “Yes,” Annia encouraged, “we’ll load it on the wagon this afternoon so that in the morning, it will be ready. Perhaps the two of you can sit in it on the way to Londinium.”

  “We’re going to Londinium tomorrow?” Cato asked. “Aren’t we waiting for the others?”

  “No, but do not worry, they will be able to find us,” Annia said, her voice, once again, falsely bright.

  The sun was warm, though not hot. It was a lovely clear summer day. She should be the happiest woman on earth. She had her children, her friends. She was home and would soon see her parents.

  But she was miserable. Every hope she had allowed to resurface in her heart was gone. And not only was she miserable; she was angry.

  Marcus had deceived her.

  She needed to understand why.

  She understood enough to know that all of his attentions to her had been false. He was under the pay of Galerius Janius.

  She was a fool.

  “Mother,” Flavius said and dropped his corner of the boat. The boat fell to the ground, and Annia and Cato were forced to stop.

  Cato looked at his mother for guidance. “Rest a minute, son,” she said.

  “I’m not tired,” Cato said.

  Her sweet, brave firstborn. His loyalty warmed her heart. She smiled her appreciation.

  “Thank you, son,” she said. He hefted the boat and waited for her to get the other side. He didn’t even look back.

  Before she could get the boat on her shoulder, Flavius ran in the opposite direction.

  “Marcus. Julius. Virginia. Titus. Lucia. I see you!” the little boy called joyfully.

  He ran into Marcus’s open arms. Marcus picked him up and swung him round and round until they collapsed in laughter on the sandy beach.

  “We’ve been looking for you,” Flavius said. “We were worried that you all had drowned.”

  “Here we are,” Lucia said, “safe and sound.” Julius had already tumbled from her arms, running and leaping into the pile on the pebbly sand that was Marcus and Flavius. Flavius hugged him hard. Julius wriggled away like a little puppy.

  “Swim,” Julius said, and ran for the water.

  Marcus caught him around the waist. “Oh, no, you don’t, young friend. We’ve had all the swimming any of us want for a good long while.”

  “Flavius,” Annia said, her voice harsh, “you and Julius may swim as long as you wish.”

  Marcus was taken aback. He turned to Annia and moved forward, ready to embrace her and swing her in his arms as he had done with Flavius.

  “Marcus,” she said, coldly, nodding.

  “Annia,” Lucia effused, and ran to her, hugging her.

  “Move over,” Virginia said to Lucia, but she was smiling. “Give me a chance to hug my oldest and dearest friend.”

  Annia and Virginia embraced. “What is it, my friend?” Virginia said. “You look like you ate a sour pear.”

  “I almost did,” Annia said, indicating Marcus with a nod.

  Annia fought an inner battle between tears of joy at seeing her friends again and fury that Marcus was there, spoiling her joy.

  Marcus moved toward her again, opened his arms and said, “Annia. I was afraid you had drowned and the babies. But Lucia said she saw you. She saw you and the boys floating away, the boys in the boat. And Maelia.” He touched the baby’s cheek.

  Annia jerked away and threw her palla over Maelia’s face. “Don’t you ever touch my baby again,” she said, her voice a threatening hiss.

  “Mother,” Flavius said, “what’s wrong? Why are you so angry at Marcus? He saved us.”

  “Yes, he did, son, and I thank you for reminding me.” Annia stood as tall as she could and turned from her son to Marcus.

  “I thank you in the name of my father for saving the lives of my precious children and mine that I might live to old age and see them grow, mature and have babes of their own.”

  Her tone was cold as an icy Londinium winter.

  Lucia stared in astonishment.

  Titus looked away.

  Cato held his head high and stepped beside his mother, placing his hand in hers.

  Annia was trembling.

  Virginia looked from Marcus to Annia.

  “Well,” she said, “it appears you have lost your status as the conquering hero. I mourn with you, Marcus. I really do.”

  Annia looked at Virginia. She knew something. What was it?

  Annia didn’t much care what she knew. Had Marcus told Virginia the same lies he had told her? Virginia had been with Marcus for almost two days, and no one knew better than Annia how persuasive he could be.

  Flavius and Julius stood between Marcus and Annia, not sure which way to move.

  Julius put his little hand in Flavius’s.

  “Go, swim,” she said to the children. “For a few minutes. The weather is lovely, and the sun is warm. You will be dry by the time we get home.”

  Happy to do so, the two little boys ran for the sparkling gray water, their attention completely diverted from the tension around them.

  “Swim with them, Cato,” Annia said. “The water is a lovely place to be. Sometimes a much better place to be than land.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The dull thud in Marcus’s head reminded him of night watch. He backed away from Annia and tried to collect his thoughts. On night duty, staying awake had been simple. The challenge had been to hear anything because of the tension induced throbbing in his head.

  What had happened? Why was Annia being so cold? What had she heard?

  He was afraid he knew.

  Now was the time to prepare for a battle of the heart that Marcus intended to win.

  Annia and her children were the symbol of everything important to him.

  This battle would be the most important of his life.

  He forced himself to back away and allow Annia her space.

  Annia might read his backing away as giving up. He would never give up.

  Sometimes fighting meant waiting. Hadn’t she told her son these very same words?

  He must order his thoughts. He must be rational.

  He needed to talk to her best friend. Wasn’t that the best way to find out information about women?

  Virginia. He would start there.

  He doubted he would get a moment alone with her any time soon. She was sticking as close to Annia as mud to caligae in a British bog.

  He watched Titus, Virginia and Lucia close in around Annia, eager to share their adventures following the shipwreck.

  “Fish were plentiful in the brook we found,” Lucia said. “And I’ve never tasted anything so sweet as the wild blueberries we found.”

  “We were so blessed!” he heard Annia exclaim. “We landed very close to Porte Dubris, and met a lovely woman, Theodora, at the town fountain.”

  “Fountain?” Titus said. “We’ve been scooping water with our hands for days. I look forward to drinking water out of a clay cup.”

  “And eating something other than fish and berries sounds good, too,” Virginia said.

  Marcus walked over to the water where the boys swam.

  “Come along,” Julius said to Marcus. “Swim with us!”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Marcus said. “I was quite serious when I said I have had all the swimming I want for many, many days.”

  The boys took this as a direct challenge. First they sprayed him with water from water windmills they made of their arms.

  When he ran into the shallows away from them, the three laughing children tackled him, hanging from all of his limbs like seaweed on a ship’s anchor.

  “Come swim, old man,” Flavius said gleefully.

  “I am an old man—too old to swim with you youn
g stallions,” Marcus teased. It felt good to be wanted.

  “Come on, then.” Even Cato joined in the fun, the water protecting him from his mother’s vision.

  Marcus finally dove in and pretended to be a sea creature gobbling the boys’ legs.

  The boys squealed in delight, and Marcus glanced over as his friends on the beach moved closer to Porte Dubris.

  In her anger at Marcus, would Annia allow him to stay near her children?

  She looked back to check on them, acknowledged Marcus with a curt nod and walked on.

  He felt vastly relieved.

  The fact that she trusted him with her children had to count for something.

  Annia and her friends chatted in the makeshift shade Titus created by propping the boat on its side against the dune. They weren’t in any hurry to get back.

  He and the boys were free to swim until they were exhausted.

  An hour or so later, Annia turned back and waved them from the water. The boys pretended to ignore her for a while, but then Marcus intervened.

  “You know you see her,” he said to Cato.

  Cato smiled. “I know,” he admitted. He looked back at his mother, caught her attention and then waved at her to let her know he’d seen her and was on his way.

  She watched until they made their way out of the water and then turned and walked with the rest of the party back to Porte Dubris.

  “Pretend you’re a dog,” Flavius said, and shook himself all over.

  Julius copied him, and it looked like so much fun that Cato shook, as well. Marcus joined in, jumping up and down.

  Now it was a contest. Who could get dry fastest?

  Like a group of drenched puppies, they shook so hard and so long that the party disappeared over the sand dune, leaving them far behind.

  “Oh,” Marcus said, looking up from their fun, “I think it’s time to go.”

  “Who won?” Cato asked. “First you have to say who won.”

  Marcus felt each head carefully, and inspected each one for stray water droplets.

  “I think that in all the jumping and shaking, you all are as dry as clothes hanging out on a line.”

  They were a jolly group heading back down the beach.

  Marcus was in no hurry. He would like to prolong this moment as long as possible. It could be the precious last moments he was allowed to be with Annia’s children.

  “Mother is very angry with you,” Flavius said. He shot his brother a quick glance to see if he was going to make him cease talking.

  But Cato walked along, expressionless, his eyes on the pebbled beach.

  “Yes, I agree. She is angry with me.”

  “Do you know why?” Flavius asked, shooting another nervous glance at his brother.

  Cato kept his eyes forward.

  “No,” Marcus said.

  “It’s because Father paid you gold coins to take baby Maelia to be exposed.”

  Flavius quoted exactly what he must have overheard them discussing in the garden on that cloudy June day when Janius’s third son was born.

  Flavius waited for Marcus to respond. Again, Marcus composed himself so as to show neither surprise nor any other emotion.

  “So your mother is angry because your father paid me gold coins to take the baby to be exposed?” Marcus asked.

  “Yes,” said Flavius. “What does all that mean?” he asked.

  The child was innocent.

  Marcus guessed that Flavius had related the conversation to Annia having no idea what the repercussions might be. How frightened the boy must have been to Annia’s reaction. The boy needed to be told his mother’s pain and anger was not the boy’s fault.

  Marcus groaned inwardly, but kept his face placid. And then he prayed. God, forgive my foolishness. Give me wisdom to follow Your precepts and trust in You. Bless these boys. In Your divine power, please give me the words that will help these boys.

  Marcus took a deep breath, but before he had a chance to speak, Cato broke in, his face red, his voice choked with emotion.

  “It means Marcus took our baby to die.”

  There. It was out there. It was exactly what Janius had paid him to do.

  “No,” Flavius said, “it’s not true, is it, Marcus?”

  It wasn’t true. But how could he explain it?

  Marcus had known the baby would never be exposed, and would instead be restored to her mother.

  What he didn’t agree to, what Cato and Flavius had not overheard, was the rest of the conversation.

  “I’m not a killer,” Marcus had told Janius on that June day.

  “But you’re willing to expose the baby?” Janius had replied.

  “I will lay the baby at the place of exposure, and it’s up to the gods from there,” Marcus had said.

  Janius had laughed, a deep-throated laugh. “Ah, equivocation at its finest. If I didn’t know better, I would accuse you of being a Greek.”

  Marcus had said nothing in reply.

  “But,” Janius said, “you’ve pleased me. I will speak to the emperor in your favor. It just won’t be quite as good as it might be were you to take care of all my business for me. There are plenty of brutes on the street who will do the deed for far less money and favor than you require.”

  And Marcus had taken the gold coin, turned on his heel and left the lush garden of Galerius Janius.

  It was the first time he had been paid to expose an infant.

  Cato and Flavius stood waiting for his answer.

  “This is a very long story. But I am going to tell you because you asked.”

  “I think we better sit down,” Cato said, his anger spent. He looked nervously ahead, seeking his mother. “I don’t think Mother needs to overhear this.”

  “That will be for you to decide after I tell you my story,” Marcus said.

  Cato nodded.

  “When I was a boy, there was a job I wanted to do. I wanted to be the commander of the Praetorian Guard. I wanted nothing more than to protect my emperor.”

  “I’ve seen them,” Flavius said. “I like their uniforms.” He looked to Cato for agreement. Cato nodded.

  “A very bad man named Sejanus became prefect just as I entered young manhood,” Marcus continued.

  “I’ve heard of him,” Cato said. “He was killed.”

  “Yes, he was killed,” Marcus said. “Do you know why?”

  “Yes. Because he planned to kill the emperor,” Cato replied.

  “That’s right,” Marcus said. “From that day, through each of my twenty years of military service, I could think of no higher calling than being the man who guarded the life of the emperor with his own life. I wanted to be the one in charge of protecting the most important man in the world.”

  “And did you?” Flavius asked.

  “No,” Marcus said. “I finished my foreign service and came home to Rome. My plan was to first become commander of the Vigiles.”

  “The fire brigade, right?” Flavius. “I want to be a Vigile when I grow up.”

  “Stop interrupting him,” Cato said. “I want to hear the rest of his story.”

  “Sorry,” Flavius said, and sat back down again.

  “Someone had told me that if I became the commander of the Vigiles and then came into favor with the emperor, I could be a prefect for the Vigiles and maybe one day a prefect for the Guard.”

  “Sort of like practice?” Cato said.

  “Yes, like practice.”

  “Your father needed my help, and I needed his help all at the same time,” Marcus said.

  This was where it was going to get very hard. How could he tell this story without further implicating their father? Without calling their father a murderer?

  “In Rome, people
like to kill one another. I heard that the emperor’s grandmother killed seven people so that her son could be emperor. I heard that the emperor Claudius was not her choice,” Cato said.

  “You may say that while we are here in Britain,” Marcus warned Cato, “but never speak of that in Rome. It could get you killed.”

  Cato looked around to make certain no one else had heard him speak. They were alone, and he looked relieved.

  “So,” Cato said, “my father wanted to kill my mother so that she was out of the way, and my brother and I would not get our new baby brother’s money.”

  “Yes, I believe that was what he was thinking. But how did you know that?” Marcus asked.

  “I figured it out when I was reading Sallust.”

  “Sallust?” Marcus said, his eyebrows raised. “Whatever made you interested in reading Sallust?” As a historian, Sallust was well known, but still, it was heavy reading for a ten-year-old boy.

  “I grew bored when Mother left. My tutor didn’t care what I read, and so I read everything I could.”

  “He did,” Flavius said. “Sometimes he liked reading better than playing with me.”

  “Anyway,” Cato continued, “According to Sallust, the Roman aristocracy is so degenerate that it might not last another hundred years. My father, you see, is part of that degenerate Roman Aristocracy. He can’t help himself. He loves money above all else.”

  Marcus wasn’t quite certain how to respond to the boy’s acuity.

  “What happened next?” Cato said.

  Marcus decided plain words were best.

  “He asked me to expose your baby sister,” Marcus said. “I agreed to expose your sister. However, I never planned to follow through. Instead, I knew my mother would take her in and save her.”

  He remembered that night not so long ago when he became equally intent on saving Annia. He remembered nearly losing her on the road in Rome. It had been one of the most frightening moments of his life. She had not made it easy for him to save her.

  “But you are a soldier,” Cato said. “Don’t you kill for pay in the army?”

  “Yes,” Marcus said, “but in the army, I kill to keep the empire safe, not to allow someone to gain money and power.”

  “I heard that the reason the empire has expanded into Britain, and the reason we’ve killed people here, is so that the emperor can have more money and more power.”