The Governor's Man by Jacquie Rogers (best beach reads TXT) 📕

paid off the guide, and dismounted to take a path round to the stables. All was quiet, but as he led his chestnut to the stable entrance, he heard a young voice murmuring inside.

‘Here, boy. Come. Milo won’t hurt you. That’s right, just let him smell you a little. Then you’ll be great friends.’

A thin dark-haired girl in a rough woollen cloak crouched in the straw near a pony, stroking a small white dog with brindle splashed across half of his face. Cerberus was already looking bigger than when Quintus last saw him.

‘Hello, Aurelia.’

The mobile face looked up quickly. Grey eyes met grey eyes. The girl remained crouching, holding the wriggling puppy to her chest defensively.

’Sir — I mean, Frumentarius Valerius.  Please don’t tell my stepmother Claudia I’m here. She hates me spending time in the stables, and it’s my favourite place. And she makes me keep Cerberus kennelled!’

Quintus heard the nervous passion in Aurelia’s voice, and couldn’t help a slight smile. All that energy, that lack of discipline reminded him of the boy he had once been, desperate to be freed from the shackles of his tutor and to be roaming his family’s country estates in Etruria. So long ago. He sighed. Aurelia cocked her head and stood up, holding out the little dog. ‘This is Cerberus, sir. Tiro rescued him for me. Isn’t he wonderful? He’s a fine tracker already. I’m training him, well, me and Rufus are training him.’

A little pink tongue darted out to lick his hand.

‘Cerberus and I have met before. I thought it would be better for him to grow up here with you at Bo Gwelt rather than in Tiro’s satchel. I see I was right about that.’ He studied the girl more closely, seeing familiarity in the quick movements and dark wavy hair.  He also recognised the wide mouth, quick to smile and just as quick to harden into fierce reproof. That sensitive mouth was all her mother’s. I can spare one moment, he thought, feeling tired. They sat down together on the muddy straw, Cerberus nestled between them, and chatted. He felt strangely as if they were old friends.

Aurelia told him of Aunt Julia coming to rescue her from a despicable marriage. She spoke of her beloved father, who wasn’t very well; of Demetrios her tutor, who taught her wonderful things about the world, and the heavens, and truth and justice, and how machinery like pumps worked, and the marvels of Roman engineering, and Greek art and medicine. She talked of Rufus, the groom and her friend, who looked after her horses and taught her how to medic and curry them.

Quintus winced at the mention of her beloved father. He knew he should be grateful to Marcus for giving his daughter such a loving home. He stopped listening while he dwelled on the times he’d missed: Aurelia as a baby, clapping and smiling to see her father; as a toddler, sitting on a pony for the first time while Quintus held her chubby little body safe and steady; as an older child, full of curiosity, asking endless questions as she showed him her books and written assignments, with the tutor Demetrios looking on, smiling. And on and on.

He switched back to attention when, a little shyly, she told him about Lucius Claudius.

‘Do you know, sir, how I first met Lucius?’ Quintus looked encouraging, and Aurelia told her tale.

She’d been out riding, and had paused on the brow of a ridge, spotting something shiny in the grass. She dismounted, and found a brooch under a dusting of dirt.

‘This brooch, sir.’ She touched the little bronze owl pin that kept her cloak fastened.

As she been remounting her pony, Milo gave a start and tossed his mane in sudden alarm. A bright rust-coloured flash passed right under the pony’s belly and dashed down the soaked grass towards the meadow. Aurelia heard the baying of hunting dogs, and nearly lost hold of the pony when two huge brindled hounds charged by within a few feet of them. The baying of the dogs rose to a climax, their long shaggy ears streaming back as they raced to catch the fox. Aurelia struggled to control the plunging pony, and had managed to calm him somewhat when she heard the shrill scream of the little russet animal, caught and tossed in the air. Sickened, she let go of the pony’s halter and turned to run after the dogs; to do what, she didn’t really know. It was madness to come between such highly-trained dogs and their prey. Before she had taken more than a few steps a black horse ridden by a gangling youngster appeared over the crest of the ridge, charging downhill so recklessly it nearly trampled her. She grabbed hard at Milo’s reins and managed to swing him away. There was a curse, and the rider yelled, ‘Out of the way, girl!’, as he swept past. Aurelia caught a flash of metal and glimpses of dark tossing curls, a flowing bright-coloured cloak and long breeched legs as the horse and rider charged after the dogs. Two slower horsemen followed over the ridge, a well-dressed fair-haired boy and a slave groom. The fair boy vainly called after the other.

‘Lucius! Lucius! Halloo, slow down a bit, wait. We’re on Bo Gwelt land here ...’

Aurelia saw the dark boy dismount, shrugging and shouting at the dogs who were baying in a frenzy and darting around in a tight circle. He bent, knife in hand, giving a shout of triumph and brandishing the unfortunate fox’s tail. Aurelia ran as fast as her trembling legs would allow.

 ‘Stop, stop, you lout! How dare you!’

The dark boy, young but much taller than her, turned as she neared. He narrowed his eyes, apparently recognising the bedraggled little girl. She saw his look move up and down her muddy dress and the shabby cloak she