Sword of Rome(107)

‘You sound very certain.’

‘I am.’ He smiled.

‘And we are riding to meet them?’

Valerius nodded. ‘I will join Otho, if he will have me.’

‘And Domitia Longina Corbulo?’ She said it lightly, but the question took on more weight in his mind than the mere words suggested.

‘Domitia Longina Corbulo will return to Rome to take up her life as a Roman lady.’ He tried to match her mood, but could not hide the raw edge of emotion in his voice.

‘But what if that is not what she wishes?’ Her whisper was so low he couldn’t be certain he’d heard her correctly. She sensed his hesitation and now it was her turn to smile. ‘You are right not to reply. For it is a question only Domitia Longina Corbulo can answer.’

With a graceful nod she dropped back to join Serpentius. Valerius shook his head at the contradictions and confusion she caused in him. Soon he had a battle to fight and a war to win. Tomorrow or the next day he could be dead. So why did his mind refuse to focus on anything but a pair of wide walnut eyes and the way the pupils were flecked with gold and contained shadows and unfathomable secrets?

Serpentius heard the bark of bitter laughter and darted a glance at Domitia. She kept her face expressionless and her eyes on the road, but he noticed her lips twitch.

Half a mile behind, the horseman who had stood silently beneath the tree canopy on the wooded hills Valerius had studied waited until he was certain the column of riders was out of sight before kicking his mount towards the road.





XXXIX


Through the crimson veil of his rage, Claudius Victor had to remind himself it was not the messenger’s fault, though his hand itched to ram a sword through the man’s guts. He couldn’t believe they had escaped him again. When the Batavians had reached the walled town he had sent patrols ahead on the Placentia road, but they saw no sign of the one-armed spy and the strangers who had slaughtered his men in the woods. They had gone to ground. There could be no other conclusion. Victor didn’t have enough men to besiege the place, but he posted guards on every side so that even a mouse couldn’t escape without his knowledge. When it was done, he sent to General Valens for reinforcements, who would arrive within a day. He had decided to demand the commander of the place hand over the fugitives as payment for not destroying his town, but to destroy it in any case. The men were becoming bored and it would give them the opportunity for plunder he had promised them and which had been so scarce thus far.

And now this. Ten miles, the scout said. They would be almost at Placentia by the time the Batavians caught up with them. To ensure that they did, every man with him was leading a spare horse – it meant he could afford to ride at twice the Romans’ pace, but also that he had been forced to leave half his men behind. He fought the urge to push on even faster. Patience. If they killed the horses he would never lay hands on the crippled bastard who had murdered Glico. He had promised his brother’s shade the cripple would die the very worst of deaths, and now he vowed to himself that as Valerius Verrens wriggled on his spike, the others would be roasting in the slow fire. And what about the woman? Well, there was more than one kind of impalement.

He cursed himself for the indulgence that had made him delay Valerius Verrens’ execution. It had led to the loss of more than twenty men and a long, frustrating ride south. Yet he had never lost faith that his Batavian hounds would run down the Roman fox. They had come within minutes of their quarry at Vesontio, and again in the passes, only to be frustrated at Dertona. This time he would finish it.



Valerius had insisted they ride through the night, stopping only to water and feed the horses. By daylight he reckoned they could be no more than a few miles from their goal, and his belief was confirmed a few minutes later when Metto pointed to a smudge on the horizon that must be Placentia. Valerius turned back to join Serpentius. Domitia rode head down, asleep in the saddle. Exhaustion made her face the colour of whey. Should he wake her? He reached out, but she must have sensed his presence because her eyes opened and she blinked in surprise to see him so close.

‘Tribune?’ Her voice was wary.

‘Lady.’ He bowed in the saddle. ‘I thought you would like to know we are almost there.’ He pointed to the grey haze. ‘When we reach Placentia you will be able to bathe and rest while I try to discover what I can of the local situation. With Fortuna’s favour, we will have time to allow the horses to recover before we move on. When we do, it will be with a large enough escort to deter any enemy cavalry we come across.’

She sighed with relief and the tired eyes slowly closed again. ‘I do not think I ever want to sit on another horse.’