A Legate's Pledge

by Tanya Bird

Iunius clapped once. ‘Right, what can I help you with today?’

  ‘A female for house duties,’ Claudius replied, his gaze returning to Brei.

  Iunius looked around, thinking. ‘How was the one I sold you a few months back?’

  Claudius crossed his arms in front of him. ‘My wife can be rather particular, as you know.’

  The merchant wore a knowing expression. ‘Well, we must keep the wife happy.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘Let me think. We had a solid little worker yesterday, but she went the same afternoon she arrived.’

  Even at that distance, Brei got a bad feeling from Claudius Liberia, so she wandered to the back of her confines and sank down between the other prisoners. One of them had started coughing, her cheeks growing pinker by the hour. The others were seated as far away from her as possible.

  The sound of footsteps approaching made Brei look up. Seeing Claudius Liberia up close confirmed her suspicion. The man was a predator.

  ‘I’m afraid these women will be no good in a household like yours,’ Iunius said.

  Claudius was only looking at Brei. ‘And why is that?’

  ‘They arrived on a ship yesterday. Most of the passengers were infected with influenza. These are the only female prisoners who survived the journey.’

  As if on cue, the sick woman coughed, and Iunius immediately pulled Claudius back from the cage. ‘As I cannot guarantee their health, they’re priced accordingly.’

  Claudius continued to eye Brei, and she felt the need to draw her knees up.

  ‘That one seems healthy. Let me take a look at her.’

  Iunius appeared unsure but then gestured for Brei to stand. She did not move.

  ‘On your feet,’ Iunius shouted, knowing she understood.

  Brei rose while the merchant unlocked the gate and gestured for her to come forwards. Lifting her chin, she tried to make herself as tall as possible as she went to them.

  ‘Let us take a proper look at her, then,’ Claudius said.

  Iunius tugged down her tunic, but Brei caught hold of it, her fingers tightening on the fabric. Annoyed, Iunius pulled harder, but the tunic did not move. ‘Let go,’ he said, a warning in his tone.

  ‘I’ve already been inspected.’

  ‘It is all right,’ Claudius said, a smile on his lips. ‘Modesty is an admirable quality.’ His gaze fell to her chalked foot. ‘From Britannia?’

  ‘North of the wall, they say.’

  Claudius’s eyes shone a little brighter all of a sudden. ‘How exotic.’ He reached for the placard around her neck, lifting it so he could read. His fingers swept over her breastbone in the process. Yes, he was a predator.

  ‘And she speaks Latin.’ His eyes travelled up to meet hers once more. ‘Impressive.’

  Iunius cleared his throat. ‘Historically, you have preferred… quieter girls for your household.’

  Apparently he was a regular at the market. Brei could imagine what happened to all the other girls who entered his household.

  ‘It is nice to mix things up occasionally.’ Claudius looked at Brei when he said that.

  Before he could say anything else, someone called his name. ‘Claudius Liberia,’ a voice boomed through the crowded space.

  Claudius all but rolled his eyes before turning in the man’s direction. ‘Gallus.’

  The brawny man came towards them, his toga as bright as the sun and rings covering every finger. His round cheeks reddened with the effort of the short walk. When he finally reached them, he extended one plump hand, which Claudius reluctantly took hold of. ‘We must stop running into each other this way. How is your family?’

  It was clear that Claudius had no interest in conversing with the man. ‘Well, thank you.’

  Gallus turned to look at Brei, taking a moment to read her placard. ‘What do we have here?’

  ‘A highlander,’ Iunius said.

  Gallus looked past her to the rest of the female prisoners. ‘Just the one?’

  ‘Influenza,’ Iunius said, as if that explained everything.

  ‘Ah,’ Gallus said, his face turning solemn. ‘General Nerva Papias was on that ship. Terrible business.’

  Brei’s heart stopped at the mention of Nerva’s name.

  ‘Rufus will soon be forced to bury his only son.’

  Brei swallowed. ‘He’s… dead?’

  Everyone turned to look at her.

  ‘As good as,’ Gallus said, eyes narrowing on her. ‘His condition is not improving.’

  Brei looked down, reminding herself that he was the reason she was in a cage.

  ‘Let us pray that it does not spread through the city,’ Claudius said.

  Gallus nodded profusely. ‘I hear it can take up to a week for symptoms to appear.’

  While the others continued chatting, Iunius signalled to someone to remove the sick prisoner.

  ‘What is the price for this one?’ Claudius asked, gesturing to Brei.

  Gallus chuckled. ‘What do you want with her? If your wife finds out you brought a contagious foreigner into her household, you are going to be in trouble.’

  Claudius glanced tiredly in his direction. ‘She looks healthy to me.’ He studied Gallus for a moment. ‘Perhaps you are interested in the girl for your own purposes. Need I remind you that our beloved emperor banned females from the arena some years back?’

  Brei had no idea what that meant. The only thing she knew was that one of them would leave with her. Unless, of course, they thought her contagious. Bending slightly, she coughed, not bothering to cover her mouth with her hand. All three men took an enormous step back, and Claudius’s previously cocky expression vanished.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Gallus said, pulling a square of fabric from his pocket and covering his mouth. ‘It seems we must continue our search elsewhere.’

  Iunius gestured for the cage to be opened and pushed her inside. She felt rather pleased with herself as she turned away from them all and strolled away. The gate locked behind her, and Iunius ushered Claudius away. Gallus remained where he was, waiting for the other men to leave before stepping closer to the cage, eyes fixed on her. Brei stared back at him.

  ‘Clever,’ he said. ‘We both know it would not have ended well for you if you had left with Claudius Liberia.’

  She did not reply but listened. Gallus leaned closer to the bars.

  ‘I see the fighter in you. You will be miserable cooped up in some noble household, fanning your mistress and avoiding the advances of your master.’ He glanced after the men. ‘How would you like to be a warrior again?’

  Brei tried to read him. ‘Who would I be fighting?’

  Gallus smiled at her response. ‘You speak the language quite well. Who taught you?’

  She wandered back to the bars. ‘War taught me.’ She crossed her arms. ‘You didn't answer my question.’

  There was a hint of a smile on his face. ‘Whomever I match you with.’

  Her eyebrows drew together. ‘What would I be fighting for?’

  ‘Why, for the entertainment, of course. This is Rome.’

  She regarded him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was misleading her in some way. ‘For fun, you mean?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I’ve no idea why I’m surprised. I’ve never met such bloodthirsty men.’

  Gallus laughed at that. ‘You are a long way from home. These are your people now. Play nice, and you might find yourself free one day.’

  That made Brei straighten. ‘What do you mean?’

  A smug expression settled on Gallus’s face. He had gotten her attention. ‘It means that slaves who please their masters can sometimes be handed their freedom.’

  Nerva had not said anything about that. ‘Is that what you’re offering me? Freedom?’

  Another laugh. ‘I do not even know if you can fight yet.’

  ‘I can fight.’

  His eyes shone at her. ‘I sponsor a number of small fights, as well as private events. I am always on the lookout for peop
le like yourself.’

  ‘You mean foreigners who don’t know any better?’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  She shrugged. ‘I didn't. Your friend said it, that women were banned from the—’ She struggled to recall the word. ‘—arena.’

  ‘Which is why people are prepared to pay handsomely for the spectacle. A bit of fun in the privacy of their own home. There are no laws against that.’ He rubbed his nose. ‘And maybe some of the smaller arenas. No one really cares about those.’

  Not for one moment did she trust the man standing in front of her, but that did not matter. The question was whether she could outsmart him. ‘Do people die?’

  ‘The weapons are blunt, and female gladiators are too valuable to kill off. That does not mean you will not get hurt. The fighting is real.’

  She frowned at the unfamiliar word. ‘What are gladiators?’

  Gallus gestured for her to come closer, and she obeyed. ‘Gladiators are the greatest show on earth.’ He straightened again. ‘Now tell me. How are you feeling?’

  He was a sharp thinker—just like her. ‘Much better suddenly.’

  ‘Wrong answer. With influenza, I shall get you at a much cheaper price.’

  Brei’s eyes returned to Claudius, who was finalising his purchase of a girl. She looked far too young to be handed over to that man. ‘Why should I care what you pay?’

  Another hearty laugh from Gallus as he waved a finger at her. ‘If this is how you are with words, I cannot wait to see you with a sword.’

  Chapter 16

  Nerva had always imagined a swift death on a bloodied battlefield. He would stare up at the sky as he bled out while the fight continued around him. It might have been an uncomfortable thought for some, but survival was also uncomfortable. Death was part of war, and he had been told his entire life that there was honour in such an end.

  What he did not imagine was a slow, miserable death. That was the death he feared. Fear of being immobile and helpless, being in constant pain, a burden to others. Fear of a fragmented mind that could not grasp what was real and what was not, of suffocating or drowning in his own bodily fluids. He was stuck in a dream, one he would wake up from, then fall back into. Moments of awareness were fleeting, confusing, and made him wish he could hurry death along.

  Nerva was aware of some things, like being on a ship. But then he was no longer on the ship. Perhaps somebody told him that—or maybe not. Occasionally he became aware of smells and sounds. At least once, he was convinced that he was back in Caledonia, lying beneath tall pines with snow falling on him. The fever held his mind hostage, and he tired of it.

  Despite welcoming death, it did not come. Instead, one afternoon, he opened his eyes and discovered his vision was clear, his body still, no longer ravaged by heat. The pain in his leg had dulled, or perhaps the limb was no longer there. That would make more sense. He turned his head and looked around the room, spotting a young girl seated by the door, humming as she sewed. It took him a moment to recognise her.

  ‘Nona,’ he croaked.

  Her head snapped up, and a smile spread across her face. ‘You’re awake.’ Dropping her sewing on the floor, she went to him. ‘How do you feel?’

  On the wall behind her hung a painting of four black horses pulling a chariot. They had once belonged to him. The inside horse was Amator, the greatest stallion Nerva had ever owned. ‘Am I home?’

  The young servant gave his arm a squeeze. ‘Yes. You’re finally home.’

  Rome. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he looked down at his legs, once again surprised to find both of them still there. He had assumed they would amputate it.

  ‘There was talk of removing it,’ Nona said, reading his mind, ‘but your mother would not hear of it.’ Nona’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Your mother. I need to tell her you’re awake.’ She rushed towards the door. ‘Don’t move,’ she called over her shoulder before disappearing.

  He was not going anywhere. Keeping his eyelids open was all he could manage. Soon, the distinctive shuffle of his mother’s feet drew near.

  ‘Nerva?’

  He would recognise her voice anywhere. Sitting up properly, he leaned against the bedhead. Aquila paused in the doorway, making her entry even more dramatic, then hurried forwards, taking his face in both hands and kissing his cheeks. ‘You had us worried out of our minds. The leg, the influenza. You really should be dead.’ She sat on the edge of the bed and clicked her fingers in Nona’s direction before pointing at the water on the table. The young girl went to pour it, then took it over to Nerva. ‘I was planning your funeral,’ Aquila continued.

  Nerva drank the water and then coughed, taking a minute to settle again. ‘How many days was I out?’

  Aquila folded her hands neatly on her lap. ‘Nine days on board that death ship, and another six days since arriving home.’ Her eyes moved over his face. ‘They are saying it killed off all but the strong.’

  ‘It?’

  ‘The barbarian influenza.’

  Nerva coughed again. ‘I think it is just called influenza.’ He had not even realised he had it. Everyone had been focused on his leg. ‘How many dead?’

  ‘Rumours are eighty percent of the crew are either infected or dead.’

  Nerva frowned. Eighty percent. ‘Have you heard anything of Marcus?’

  Aquila looked heavenward. ‘Recovering, thank the gods. I know how fond you are of him.’

  He had not had any symptoms when Nerva had seen him last. When had that been? The day they were attacked. An image of Brei trapped beneath a man twice his size flashed in his mind. ‘What of the prisoners onboard?’

  His mother looked surprised. ‘It is not like you to concern yourself with the spoils of war. Hopefully they were all put to death in order to prevent the spread of the disease through the city.’

  Some might have been shocked by such a statement, but Nerva was immune to his mother’s world views. ‘Do you know if they are holding any prisoners for me?’

  She feigned exhaustion. ‘For goodness’ sake. I am not one of your men reporting for duty. Given everyone thought you dead, I imagine they were sold on your behalf.’

  He had only been awake a few minutes and Brei was already on his mind. Something had changed between them that day on deck. They had crossed an invisible boundary. Whatever sense of responsibility he felt towards her before, it was tenfold now. ‘I would like to go and see Marcus.’

  ‘You have not even seen your own father yet.’ Her mouth pinched in disapproval. ‘He has been awfully concerned about you.’

  Nerva really was not thinking clearly. ‘I will see him first, of course. Is he well?’

  ‘Quite well.’ Aquila reached out and brushed Nerva’s long hair away from his eye. ‘I do not think I have ever seen you so unkempt and underweight. Did they not feed you over there? I thought a legate would have had the very best that terrible place could offer.’ She sighed. ‘But knowing you as I do, you are not one to eat while your men look on hungry.’

  He was struggling to follow the conversation, mostly because he was trying to remember if Brei had shown any symptoms the last time he had seen her. Her cool hands came to mind. He had probably infected her. ‘There was a woman,’ he said, cutting his mother off.

  Aquila’s eyebrows rose. ‘A woman where?’

  ‘On the ship. A prisoner.’ He shook his head, knowing his mother would be the last person prepared to help him with something like this. ‘She saved my life.’

  ‘A prisoner saved your life?’

  ‘A few times, actually.’

  Aquila looked as if she had just inhaled a bad odour. ‘You were liaising with the prisoners? It is no wonder you got ill.’

  ‘A bit hard not to liaise with Maeatae when fighting them.’

  ‘The barbarians would have most definitely brought it on board. Their type often carries the diseases without showing any signs of them.’ She waved a hand. ‘I fear we shall have to treat you for fleas also.’

&nbs
p; It was always tempting to argue with her, to try and tell her that she was wrong, a victim of propaganda, but he knew better than to try and sway her mind on such matters. He was not well enough to take her on yet.

  He was saved by a knock at the door and looked over to see Tertia standing with a tray of food and a warm smile.

  ‘We have sent word to your father that you are awake. Thought you might like something to eat. Broth and some cooked pears—nothing too heavy.’

  Aquila let out a loud sigh. ‘Just leave it on the table.’

  Tertia entered and placed the tray beside the bed.

  ‘Now off you go,’ Aquila said, waving her away like a fly. ‘You have a lot of mending to get on with.’

  Tertia bowed her head, gracious as always, and glanced once at Nerva. ‘It is good to see you awake.’

  Twenty-nine years they had all been doing the same dance. ‘Thank you, Tertia. That was very thoughtful.’

  ‘And her job,’ Aquila added. She waited until they were alone before adding, ‘One would think she would know her place by now.’

  Tertia was his father’s mistress, and for that reason, his mother despised her. He could not blame her, but he happened to like Tertia. Plus, she was his sisters’ mother, which made her family.

  ‘I see your relationship has not improved. Would it kill you to be nice? She is all alone here.’

  ‘Hardly.’ She straightened. ‘She might be pining after the daughters who abandoned her first chance they got, but she still manages to find her way into my husband’s bed.’

  Nerva’s half-sisters chose to live elsewhere for a number of reasons. ‘You know very well they did not abandon her.’

  ‘Good riddance, I say.’

  There was another knock, and this time his father’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. Nerva had only been gone two years, but Rufus looked like he had aged about ten. His eyes creased at the corners when they met Nerva’s.

  ‘You look terrible,’ he said, stepping into the room.

  ‘I said the same thing,’ Aquila said, standing and fixing her stola. ‘Make sure he drinks the broth.’ She patted Nerva’s cheek before walking to the door.

  ‘Mother,’ Nerva called, stopping her. ‘Can you make enquiries after Marcus on my behalf?’