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

Her slight body shook with sobs. He was struck by the naked sorrow on her face.

‘Aurelia. You shouldn’t be alone. Does your aunt know you’re here?’

She lifted her head.

’Sir?’

‘Quintus. Just Quintus.’

She stumbled across to him, falling on her knees at his feet.

‘I had to be with the horses and Cerberus. Now Father has gone, they are all I have. Mother died when I was little, and since then Father has been everything, both parents at once and my best friend. And poor Aunt Julia, who has her own busy life in Aquae Sulis—now she’s stuck with me to care for. I c-can’t do that to her, sir. But how can I go on without my darling father? I’m so alone!’

He sat with her, holding the child in silence for as long as she needed. She was right about one thing. Marcus had been the centre of her universe when her true parents gave her up. Marcus had given her secure love and a warm happy home here at Bo Gwelt.

He flinched as the reality hit him. We hid the truth from Aurelia, Julia and I. My fault. If I had listened to Julia that day in Eboracum, it could have been so different. What if Aurelia found out now, he wondered. He looked down at his child, the grey eyes so like his own red with grief, her wide mobile mouth so like Julia’s now crumpled and trembling. She would hate me. I’ve given her nothing, never been a father to her. Best she remains Julia’s niece and ward, and forgets me.

And yet—isn’t this a chance, the chance, to change all that?

He allowed a vision to build, piece by piece, in his mind. What if he could repair the damage, make up for the mistakes? If he reclaimed his British family, Julia and Aurelia, wouldn’t that make up for his failure to save Flavius and his own father? Perhaps the Gods might finally forgive him, and he would be worthy of grace.

He was holding Aurelia still. After a time she quietened, pulling herself upright and wiping a grubby hand across her wet face. She stared up at him, looking puzzled. Then a sound broke into the stable from outside, and she turned to listen.

‘Horses,’ she said.

Into the courtyard cantered three army horses. Two were ridden by troopers in the uniform of the Aquae Sulis company. They dismounted neatly, throwing crisp salutes. The third horse carried a very tired little man, dark-skinned and rumpled. He slid off his mount, near to collapse as his feet hit the ground.

‘Sir, Frumentarius, I come with an urgent message from Commander Marcellus Crispus.’ Tertius managed to look both daunted and proud as he handed a sealed letter over. Quintus’s mind snapped back to attention.

‘Thank you, Tertius. Good to see you back.’

The message was concise. The Second Augusta was being mobilised. Marcellus had orders to bring his detachment to muster with the legion at Corinium in three days. From there they were to head east.

Marcellus proposed to ignore the orders.

Frumentarius Quintus Valerius, greetings.

I beg you to make haste to meet me on the road east from the Sabrina landing at Aust. I will brief you then. Time does not allow more now. Send whatever force you can northwards on the Fosse Way, but I urge you yourself to come by sea to save time. I have ordered a navy bireme to embark you at high tide at Cranford Bridge, for passage north up the Severn Sea. From the Aust landing you can ride on to strike my company’s path on the road from Aquae Sulis.

On no account land on the west side of Sabrina. You must not risk meeting the Augusta before we join forces. You and I must stop this together. Only disaster can result for my deluded legionary comrades.

I look for you, Brother, by sunset on the second day from receiving this letter.

Marcellus Crispus

Quintus studied the letter, frowning. He nodded to Tertius to follow him into a quiet corner of the stable.

‘Tell me what you know.’

The little man swallowed. ‘Not much more than is written there. The legate of the Augusta is rumoured to be ill, hasn’t been seen outside his quarters in weeks. Centurion Crispus no longer trusts some of his brother officers in the Augusta. He fears they may have been coerced or bribed to raise revolt.’

‘Bribed with Vebriacum silver?’

Tertius said nothing. He looked down at the dirt floor, and wriggled his sandals in the dust.

‘Right. You don’t trust me either. Although I have saved your life, Tertius, perhaps twice. As you have saved mine. Are we not now brothers?’

More silence. Tertius looked up at the Roman with unhappy eyes.

‘At least tell me where Marcellus believes the legion is posted to.’

‘He fears they will be marched to Londinium.’

So this was it. The coup had begun. Only two men in the province had the authority to command the legate of the Augusta to mobilise his legion. One was his old comrade, the Governor Gaius Trebonius. The other was the Provincial Procurator, Aradius Rufinus.

Tertius cleared his throat.

‘Centurion Crispus wonders whether the Druidess Fulminata has gone to raise the Dobunni tribe at their capital in Corinium.’

‘What! Did he not receive my message to arrest her?’

More unhappy circling of feet in the dust.

‘Yes, but the men he sent to intercept were… amenable to her persuasions. Instead of bringing her back to Aquae Sulis, they escorted her to the Dobunni capital. Marcellus was very angry, saying they are deserters. But they might believe themselves to be acting under legionary orders, as part of a plan to unite the rebelling tribesmen with the Isca soldiers.’

By Mithras! Quintus was very glad they still had Caesulanus. At least here was one source of information. The time had