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

dinner. Narina came to tell them that Enica said the evening meal was out on the table and going cold. As they entered the house, Tiro joined them, looking enquiring. Quintus sighed, wondering how much Tiro had heard. This wretched house — nothing ever stayed private.

‘Sir?’

‘What about it, Tiro? Fancy a trip to Rome? As my optio?’

Tiro looked exhilarated.

‘I thought the Governor might have given you a new stator, sir. And packed me off, being just temporary as you know.’

Quintus smiled, and held out a small package wrapped in linen.

‘There’s this too. With the Governor’s thanks, in recognition of your bravery on and off the field of war. He apologises for the lack of ceremony. Maybe later on our return.’

Tiro unwrapped a heavy silver disc decorated in relief with the image of Hercules.

‘My phalera!’ He looked delighted for a moment. Then he looked away, towards the servant’s quarters. Quintus sighed again.

‘Well, Tiro?’

‘It’s just ... there’s Britta, you know…’

‘Tell her it will give you time to save, on your higher salary.’  He didn’t add what to save for, but Tiro seemed struck by the notion.

‘Do I get a decent sword this time, sir? And another go at that Lucius? I still owe him a shield.’

‘We may well get our chance with Lucius. And you can have any damn weapon you want, Tiro. I think for once the Governor will be happy to pay the bill.’

Tiro went off, smiling and whistling. He swung into the servant’s hall, where no doubt Britta was waiting to hear his news. Tiro managed to see the upside of most challenges, Quintus realised.  Whatever Quintus had said to Julia about the trip to Rome being a holiday, he knew there would be challenges. Rome was always challenging.

From the dining room came the sound of laughter. Julia was thanking Aurelia for pouring out the wine without spilling, and his daughter was giving a suitably sassy riposte. Quintus lingered in the corridor. He thought fleetingly of the sad old house on the Quirinal.

Then he straightened his shoulders, and stepped over the threshold to join his family.

Place Names

Abona: river Avon, and the port at Sea Mills near Bristol

Aquae Sulis: Bath

Aust: a small ferry terminus, and the landing point on the east bank of the Severn estuary for military traffic crossing the river from     Caerleon. Now disused and under the M48 toll bridge.

Bawdrip: a villa at the west end of the Polden Hills, Somerset, home of the Sorio family

Bo Gwelt: a villa at Shapwick in the Polden Hills, home of the Aurelianus family

Bruella: river Brue, the Somerset Levels

Caledonia: northern Scotland

Calleva Atrebatum: Silchester

Camerton: hamlet on the Fosse Way, south of Aquae Sulis

Castra Deva: Chester

Chilton Polden: a small village at the east end of the Poldens

Crandon Bridge: in Roman times a port on the river Pedrida, now land-locked

Cunetio: near Mildenhall, Wiltshire

Corinium Dubonnorum: Cirencester

Durnovaria: Dorchester

Eboracum: York

Gesiacorum: Boulogne

Glevum: Gloucester

Iscalis: Cheddar, and home of the Claudius family

Isca Silurium: Caerleon, base of the 11 Legion Augusta

Lindinis: Ilchester, Somerset

Londinium: London

Pontes: Staines

Rhenus: river Rhine

Sabrina: river Severn

Salinae: Droitwich

Severn Sea: Bristol estuary

Silures, land of: roughly, south-east Wales

Soviodunum: Salisbury

The Summer Country: loosely, Somerset

Tamesis: river Thames

Vebriacum: Charterhouse-on-Mendip, a large silver/lead mine

Verlucio: Sandy Lane, Wiltshire

Verulamium: St Albans

General note:

In naming places I have used contemporary Roman placenames, except where that name is not known. In that case I have tried to use British Celtic names. E.g. Bo Gwelt may be the British forerunner to Pouelt, used in Domesday Book to denote the whole estate. The British name refers to the grazing of sheep. This estate no longer exists as such, but is thought to be the forerunner of the modern parish boundaries.

Where I haven’t been able to find either a Roman or a Celtic place name, as in Crandon Bridge, I have used the modern English name.

Author’s Acknowledgements

Many people have helped me with time, support and knowledge. My gratitude goes to:

The superb staff at the Somerset Heritage Centre, who showed me fascinating artefacts from their archives (sadly not on public display), and first alerted me to the existence of an archaeology report on the Shapwick dig in 1998.

The knowledgeable and enthusiastic local guides at the Cheddar Gorge.

Ilchester Community Museum — you must go on one of their Roman Heritage Days, mind-blowing.

The incomparable Sue Willetts and her colleagues at the Hellenic and Roman Library in London, who slaved through several coronavirus lockdowns to keep me supplied with research material.

My exceptional tutors at the Arvon historical fiction course in 2018, Robert Wilton and Manda (MC) Scott, who are superb teachers as well as supremely talented writers themselves.

My brother Ste Finnemore, who taught me how to cook the books Roman-style without double-entry bookkeeping, and sister-in-law and psychotherapist Ann Finnemore, who pointed me to helpful sites for PTSD research.

And Phillippa of Classic Cottages, who rescued me from a building site and found me a writing haven in a storm-tossed Cornwall January.

I was blessed with wonderful beta readers: Ian Walker, Kate Standish Hayes, Lynn Johnson, Fran Martel, Ste Finnemore, Rhodri Orders, David Orders, Debra Williams, Mark Selvester and Julie Stanbridge. My gratitude to you all, and guess what? The Governor’s Man 2 is on its way.

My independent editor Gemma Taylor was a stalwart, and great supporter.

Special thanks to Richard, Tara and all at Sharpe Books, of course.

And first and foremost, thus mentioned last: my husband and soul mate, Peter, who kept me going long after it would have been reasonable to stop. I owe this book to him.