Out of the darkness, behind the group, several horses approached, the lead horse mounted by a tall red headed woman in war paint and leather battle gear. When she saw the crowd she smiled at first, but then recognition turned her face to alarm. The men had nearly reached the two women and she had to shout for them to hear her.
“Step back!” They apparently did not hear her, so she brought her horse to stand among them. “Step back!”
The men turned furious glances at the newcomers, then immediately lowered their swords and bowed their heads to the woman.
“Your Majesty,” the leader said. “This Roman and this Breton, we…”
“I know the Breton,” she said. “Take your men and continue up the street. I will deal with this.”
“As you wish.” He whistled loudly to his men, shot a disappointed look at the two women, and then trotted up the street with the rest.
The woman stared at Delia and Antonia, her face grim. Blood stained her clothes, her hair, her hands, and even the naked legs straddling a Roman horse. Around her were ten men on horseback; fully armed, large, and dangerous.
“Delia,” she said coolly, moving the horse closer. The animal reared and then tried to bite her. Delia stepped back and irritably glowered at the woman.
“Horses never did like you, did they?”
“It has been a long time, Rheydyn.” Delia’s words were strained and tentative. She was not certain if her cousin would kill her where she stood or wait until later. There was no love lost between them.
“What are you doing here?” Rheydyn demanded, glaring at the Roman woman and scanning Delia’s clothes. “In a Roman city and in Roman clothes? Where does your allegiance lay, cousin?”
“With my people. I am not here by my choice. I am—hiding.”
“Hiding? That does not sound like you. You were always the bravest little bitch. Who are you hiding from?”
Delia could feel her lips tighten and had to bite off a nasty reply, knowing their position was tentative.
Rheydyn snorted. “Ah, I see… Conall been at you again? The bitch does not stray too far from the pack, it seems.”
Antonia took a step toward the woman, and Delia had to restrain her with a hand.
“It does not matter, Rheydyn.” She was having problems keeping the anger out of her voice and the fear out of her responses. There was only one thing this woman understood. “Is this your mother’s doing?”
Rheydyn looked around at her men and laughed. “It is Boudiga’s doing, yes. It has been a long time coming, little queen. Or did they not tell you what they did to us.”
“I heard rumors…”
“Rumors,” she hissed. “When father died, they took our lands, burned our villages, enslaved our people, whipped our mother and then…” Her voice became very quiet, “…then raped my sister and me, to make us bow to them, to make us capitulate to their demands. This is a fight for all Bretons. They will pay for what they have done.”
“I am sorry, Rheydyn. I had no idea.”
The woman adjusted herself on the horse and frowned down at the two for a long time. Delia remained silent, knowing her fate rested in her cousin’s hands.
“Kill the Roman, enslave the queen,” she snapped, then abruptly turned her horse and charged down the street.
Delia stared after her in shock as the men surrounded them. One of the men dismounted quickly and extracted his sword in one pull. As he lunged at Antonia, she surprised him by ducking under his blade. In a swift movement, that even Delia did not catch, Antonia’s blade went up and under the ribs of the Breton and lodged in his heart, covering her arm with blood and staining the road black in the firelight. He fell on the street beside her.
Before any of the other men could respond, she took two leaps and with an expertise that stunned them, Antonia jumped onto the back of the Breton’s horse and pulled the reins into her hands. In an exact imitation of her husband, she squeezed the chest of the beast between her knees and it responded exactly to her touch.
She tried to reach Delia, moving the horse with precision, weaving it in and out of the other riders, using surprise and the horse’s body to keep them off balance. She came close to reaching Delia, but it was too late. The other men had her surrounded and pulled their swords. Antonia ran tear-filled eyes by Delia, kicked her heels into the sides of the animal, and sprinted out of the city. All but three of the riders chased after her. Delia knew this was the only chance Antonia could give her.
The three men left behind dismounted and caught Delia before she could run more than a few feet. She managed to get a good strike with her dagger across the shoulder of one and the face of another, but that was all. They wrenched the weapon from her hand and viciously pulled them behind her back, pushing her to her knees. Binding her hands in rope, they dragged her kicking and screaming to the Breton wagons.
C hapter Twenty-Four
Marius stood outside the elaborate tent surveying ten thousand troops that moved like ants through the immense camp, waiting impatiently to meet with Suetonius.
He and his century made good time after the defeat of Conall and his men, but Kuna had never returned, and Marius was getting worried. When they finally reached the Iter III road, he turned his troops toward Londinium. After an hour on the road, they met General Suetonius and his less than three hundred Roman soldiers. Behind them were hordes of citizens bringing up the rear.
Marius knew the general. He could see on his face that something was terribly wrong. Suetonius was furious. After ordering Aelius to merge his century with the column, Marius carefully approached the general.
“Sir.” Marius nodded to the general’s aide who made a space for him.
“How many men have you?” Suetonius asked.
Marius did not expect the question, thinking he would ask for a report instead.
“Seventy-eight, sir, and two wounded, but they will be able to assume duty within a day or two.”
“Eighty men.” The general nodded grimly without looking at him. “Order them to merge with the column. We will set up camp at the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir. What has happened, sir?”
“That idiot, Catus, has incited the barbarians to revolt! He scourged their lands, whipped their queen and then had her daughters raped. Of all the idiotic…” He stopped and gripped the hilt of his sword. “Boudiga has marched with her rebels against Camulodunum and leveled it, along with most of the IX Hispania. When I arrived at Londinium, the procurator was gone along with most of the treasury, leaving us to contend with fifty thousand, very irate, Bretons. We had to abandon the city. I could not exactly hold it with three hundred men. Even if I had the rest of my ten thousand, the city is indefensible—no walls, no reinforcement. The imbeciles who built it should be flogged! The XIV and what I have of your XX are marching to meet us but it will be several days. We barely finished our attack against these holy men…these druids in Mona, when we received word. My men are exhausted. We will have to meet them on the other side of Verulamium. We need to find another way to handle these people.”
“Yes, sir. What are your orders?”
“When we camp, come to me and we will discuss it. In the meantime, see if you can find any men among the civilians who can fight. See that they are armed, uniformed, and ready to march.”
“Yes, sir.” Marius saluted his general, and then dug his heels into Brutus to take him to the back of the column. Delia and Antonia had to be there and perhaps Kuna as well.
They were nowhere to be found.
Concern weighed heavily on his heart while Marius sat outside his general’s tent, waiting to be admitted.
“She still in town,” said a voice from behind him, and he turned to find Kuna. The little man was disheveled and scratched everywhere. Exhaustion showed in the deeply etched circles under his eyes and the droop of his mouth. Kuna rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“You look terrible. Where have you been?”
“Not matter,”
Kuna replied, sitting next to him. “Delia still in Londinium.”
“What?”
Kuna nodded gravely. “She not leave. Caught man. Breton man, who say Delia fall and Antonia save her. Then women caught. Antonia escape on horse, like Kuna taught her.” He could not keep the proud sparkle out of his eye. “But Delia taken by men to wagons, tied like slave.” He shuffled his feet in the dirt. “Me look for Antonia—for days. Not find.”
Marius touched Kuna’s arm. “We need to get back in the city.”
“They not in city, Centurion. They march up road. I report to general.”
A stately aide came out and motioned to the two men.
They entered the busy headquarters to find Suetonius sitting at a large table surrounded by soldiers, wax tablets shoved in front of him. He glanced up and saw them standing at attention. With a whistle and a hand signal, the others bowed and left the tent.
“Report,” he said to Kuna, and the little man rapidly reported what he had said to Marius, only in greater deal. At the end, the general nodded and raised his bushy eyebrows at Marius.
“It has been reported to me that the II has refused my orders,” he said grimly. “We have ten thousand legionnaires, Centurion. That woman has at least fifty thousand warriors. What do you advise?”
Marius studied the huge map lain across the general’s table. They were west of Verulamium where they had evacuated the town, except those who would—or could not leave.
“We draw them in,” he said, glancing up from the map.
“My thoughts exactly.” He turned to Kuna. “Contact the rest of the centurions, Kuna, and have them send out scouts. We need a place where we can draw them, somewhere defensible, where we can trap them until they are finished. It has to be close to the road.”
“Yes, sir.” Kuna and Marius both saluted, but as they turned to leave, the general looked up from the table.
“Centurion, stay.”
Kuna frowned at Marius and then left the tent.
“Sir?”
Suetonius motioned to a chair across from him.
“I have had some… interesting dispatches from one of your men.Your second, Leonius?” Marius nodded and let the general continue. “He does not seem to think much of your command.”
“Yes, well,” Marius replied. “We’ve recently… discussed that.”
The general leaned against the table as a smile spread over his face. “Say the word and he is off to Gaul on the next ship, Marius. That might keep his mind from betraying his commander.”
Marius raised an eyebrow. “I will take care of things, sir. His attitude is… improving.”
The general laughed. “How is it you always manage to take care of things, Marius? You always take the most unruly of men and turn them into excellent soldiers. It is quite a gift, Centurion.”
Marius tilted his head at the compliment. “Thank you, sir.”
Suetonius called for one of his aides who quickly came to him. “Lunch for two.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the aide was gone, Suetonius studied Marius a long time. “How are you? It has been a long time.”
“Yes, it has, General. Almost ten years, but I do not think you saw me. It was on your first visits here, before you became governor.”
“That boy, the one you adopted when his father was killed. Is he still with you?”
“Aelius? Yes. In fact, he is my aide.”
“Really? Is he as good as his father?”
Marius felt a flash of ire run through his back. “He is coming along, but no one was as good as Markus, sir.”
“Indeed.” Suetonius brought his hands before his mouth and stared at Marius. “Did anyone ever find out?” he said, lowering his voice.
“About his betrayal? No, sir. They killed him before… well, before the others could reach him. I guess I have you to thank for that.” Marius purposefully did not cover the accusation in his tone. His jaw tightened, furious Suetonius could speak so casually about Marius’s friend.
The general shrugged and sat back in his chair. “Caligula was insane, Marius. It could not go on. You knew that. You told me yourself what he had done to his sister—the rape—the torture. You wanted that bastard dead for that alone, remember? It was why we approached you…”
“I remember, General,” Marius said abruptly.
Suetonius nodded. “I am sorry you and Markus were among the ones to draw the lots. I liked Markus very much. He was a good soldier.”
“He did his duty, sir,” replied Marius.
There was the slightest regret in the general’s voice. “We all did our duty, Centurion. It does not matter who wielded the knives. Sometimes you have to do things that are hard to do. Sometimes you have to be brutal…final…which is what we are going to do to these barbarians.”
“Sir?” Marius remained quiet when food was set in front of them.
“These… Celts… these Bretons, we need to crush them and make certain they stay down. I intend to do just that. When I get done with them, they will never raise another weapon against the empire.”
Marius simply nodded, knowing this man very well. Suetonius, a brilliant general, had executed strategies that won them countless battles and many wars. He was highly decorated and one of the most brutal savages in the Roman army. Marius had no doubts that he would deal with these people the same way he had dealt with others: swiftly, effectively, and viciously. His bloody retributions were legendary. A pang of guilt went through Marius when he thought about Delia and her tiny kingdom. What would this man do to them? His position suddenly became very complicated.
“Sir? You know my enlistment is up in less than a week.”
“So I have been informed,” Suetonius answered carefully. “Will you be renewing then?”
Marius shook his head. “You know I will not,” he replied. “I would like the release as soon as possible.”
Suetonius nodded. He put a piece of beef into his mouth and chewed while he thought.
“I can do that,” he finally said. “You do not mind sticking around until we get out of this current…situation, do you? I do need you.”
Marius smiled and folded his hands in front of his face. “Certainly, sir. Of course, I will stay as long as you wish. I simply want the release…today if possible.”
“Why so quickly?”
“Fifty thousand against ten? Do you need to ask?”
Suetonius laughed. “Very well,” the general said, wiping his mouth. “Would this have anything to do with a rumor I have heard in the last day or so? An entanglement with a native. Is that correct?”
Marius wondered what else Leonius had told the general before his… conditioning. Fortunately, the second did not know about many things and Marius was grateful.
“Yes, sir,” he replied unapologetically.
“I have known you a long time, Marius. You have never been prone to having your head turned by a beautiful girl.”
Marius chuckled. “You have not met this woman.”
Suetonius tilted his head. Marius’s gut tightened when he saw it and heard a familiar lilt in the general’s voice. “She must be something. I cannot help but wonder if you are making a wise choice. The combination of Breton and Roman is not always… healthy, if you understand me. They are. after all, not—as cultured as we are. Your children would be…”
“Have you ever been in love, General?” Marius asked, his mood darkening.
Suetonius pursed his lips. “Understood, Centurion. Just be careful.”
“Thank you, sir. I will be.” Marius rose from the table and executed a crisp bow. “If you will excuse me, sir, I have duties to attend. I will send my aide for the release later.”
“Very well.”
Marius left the tent, the food untouched. He knew, the insult would not be lost on Suetonius.
C hapter Twenty-Five
Boudiga’s army had been on the road for many days, stopping only long enough to annihilate any settlement they came upon during
their search for Roman soldiers. Most people were gone, but those few who remained were heartlessly tortured and then executed. When they reached Verulamium, they found it almost deserted. The healthy had escaped. This seemed to fuel the Breton thirst for revenge until their madness roared like a firestorm.
Many fights broke out in the evenings between the warriors who could not withhold their frustrations. That Boudiga kept the warriors together, moving as one and keeping them from killing one another, was a tribute to her leadership, and Delia found herself admiring the older woman. But as the days passed and their hubris grew, the acts they committed in her name had no such honor.
What few Romans remained in the last small villages, had atrocities committed on them that Delia could not get out of her mind, leaving her in a state of dazed disbelief. Her sleepless nights were filled with memories of screaming innocents. The Breton’s revenge was unspeakable. Delia had never felt such shame for her people. They passed heads of the aged and infirmed, mounted on grisly pikes lining the street, these, the lesser of the appalling sights. For hours, she kept her head down.
The wagons trundled along at the back of the throng, filled with what little food they had, clothes, and supplies. Tucked among sacks of grain and potatoes, were children, elderly, and those members of their tribes who could not fight. This was, after all, not just an army that marched—but a civilization. They had simply brought their families with them.
Delia was shocked at the conditions of these people. Many children ran wild, some of them hurt from stepping on remnants of discarded weapons or made ill by rancid blood. Despite efforts to stop them, many watched their parents butcher other human beings. There were too many that were frail or wounded and few medicines to help them. Some tried, but it was manifestly difficult in a moving city, their supplies becoming dangerously low as they moved forward. They took what ancillary foods they could find as they marched through the cities but to feed the growing mass of people proved more difficult every day. They did not wish to stop to hunt or gather what they needed, thinking the war would soon be over. Much of the food they had brought became rancid early in the humid weather, the season turning wet and warm. Try as she might, Delia could not get anyone to listen to her advice and experience. She had never felt so helpless.
The Centurion and the Queen Page 17
