The Barbarian's Mistress (29 page)

‘Is he a gambling man?’ Braxus asked, as if passing the day.

‘Isn’t everyone? He lost big at the circus yesterday. His best slave was defeated. Poor bastard barely survived, and if Longinus has his way, he probably won’t see out the week. Not much use for a cripple.’

Braxus nodded in agreement and tightened his hand on Ninia’s arm when she made to contradict. She obeyed him, and closed her mouth. Her indignation was not wanted here.

They wandered off in the direction of Longinus’ villa. At the door, Braxus knocked. They were immediately greeted by a suspicious female slave of middle years.

‘I’ve got a business proposition for your master. It will add to his wealth and standing.’ Braxus had adopted an arrogant stance, which seemed at odds with his shabby and bruised appearance.

The slave must have thought so too because she scowled at him in derision. That’s when he glared at her, his predator’s gaze enough to have the woman scuttling away in fright.

Moments later she was back, and directing them into the office at the front of the villa. Here they were greeted by a robust, white haired man with dark olive skin. His Punic
ancestry was apparent in his long face and large, hawklike nose.

‘What’s this business proposition, and why would I consider it? You hardly look like a successful businessman.’ The way he looked down his nose at Braxus made Ninia blush. But Braxus just smiled wolfishly.

‘Being shipwrecked does that to a person. And the business I’m suggesting is more violent than most. I hear your man lost to the gladiators yesterday. What’s it worth to you to get your pride back?’

The man’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘Go on, I’m listening.’

‘I won my freedom after three years in the arenas of Rome. I was undefeated. I’ll sell my services to you for a price. You’ll triple your money when I win.’

‘How do I know you aren’t lying?’

Braxus removed his manumission from his pouch and handed it over. Ninia knew there was a little water damage to the edge of the skin but the wording was still legible. He’d been freed by Vespasian himself.

The man studied the document for several long minutes, obviously considering his options. When he looked up, his eyes had the gleam of greed in them.

‘How much?’

‘Four hundred denarii.’

‘Are you mad? I could buy a team of donkeys for that sort of money.’

‘How much did you lose yesterday? Including the cost of the slave who’s now crippled?’

‘None of your concern.’

‘Far more than my services, I assume. If I fought in Rome I’d get ten times what I’m asking.’

‘Then why don’t you?’ The man was all bluff. Even Ninia could see that he was already seriously considering it.

‘Because I was shipwrecked here, and you haven’t got enough spectators to make me worth more. Take it or leave it. I’m sure your competitors would like to save the towns reputation, if you don’t.’

‘All right, all right. Four hundred it is. Paid when you win.’

‘Paid now, or not at all. I need to bathe, clothe and feed myself and my wife before the fight. You don’t want me at less than my best, do you?’

‘I’m not prepared to let you walk out of here with that sort of money. No, I’ll bathe, dress and feed you both and give you your money just before the contest. That way I know you get there.’

Braxus gave a sharp nod.

‘Gallia, where are you woman?’ Longinus yelled. A moment later, the slave who had brought them in, appeared in the doorway. ‘Take these to the bathhouse and pay for them both. Give them clothes befitting slaves of my household, and then feed them well. Let them rest in one of the rooms at the back. I want this man in top condition before this afternoon.’

Braxus sent her a pleased little smile as they were lead away.

Later that afternoon, when the heat of the day had abated, the clean and clothed couple stood at the edge of the makeshift arena. On the wooden benches the citizens of Caralis arranged themselves, ready to be impressed by the skills and showmanship of the itinerate fighters. It would not be the same contest as the day before. It never was. Novelty was the key to a successful travelling show such as this.

The demonstration bout would take place first, and there was only a spattering of betting being done on this, as it was likely already determined ahead of time who would win and who would lose. The big money would be on the local man’s contest.

‘Well, well, well, you clean up to a standard that befits me. Your woman… is she a slave? She’s quite a beauty. I’d buy her off you, if the price was right.’ Longinus lifted one snow white brow, and studied Ninia with a connoisseur’s eye.

Braxus didn’t change his posture or his expression, but the air was suddenly electric with danger. Longinus was as aware of it as Ninia, and he took a step back. He made much of getting the pouch of money ready.

‘Here, this is what we agreed on. I expect to get my money’s worth. I’ve been shamed enough by these showmen already.’ He handed the bag over and Braxus insulted him by counting the coins right there in front of him. There were sixteen gold aureii.

‘You’ll get your money’s worth. Make sure you bet big.’

He turned his back on the man and led Ninia away to the back of the stands. There he handed Ninia the bag with half the gold in it. ‘Put that around your neck with your manumission. Then take the rest, and place a bet on me. Make it early, as soon as I walk into the arena. Once the contest starts the odds will go down. If I win, you need to collect the winnings immediately. If I lose, take what you have in the pouch, and get out of here fast. There are ships in the harbour. Board one and go. Do you understand?’

‘But I won’t leave you…’

‘If I don’t die in the contest, then Longinus will make sure I do after. He won’t like losing face. And he’ll want his money back and you, from the way he looked at you. So you have to go.

‘Don’t look so worried little one, I don’t plan on losing. I’ve won thirty contests and never lost. These yokels haven’t got a chance. But it’s always good to plan for failure. So, will you do as I say?’

She nodded reluctantly. The way Longinus had looked at her had reminded her just how vulnerable a woman was on her own. If Braxus died, she would be in grave danger, with only enough money to get her back to Rome, if she was lucky enough to escape the town. Certainly there wasn’t enough money to follow Anni. Everything hinged on this man with the scarred face.

‘How are you feeling? It was only a day ago you were sick as a dog.’

He smiled at her. ‘Headache is a dull thump, but my muscles are strong, if a little less steady than normal. No shivers or shakes. So I’m good.’

She looked into his eyes to read the truth. She’d only spent a few days with this man, but she was already starting to know him. ‘Truth.’

‘It is. Well, maybe the dull thump is a nagging ache, but no worse than I’ve fought with a hundred times before. I won’t notice once the heat of battle kicks in. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think I’d win. I’d find another way to get us money. Trust me.’

She smiled at him then. Trust him? How could she not? He was all that stood between her and failure.

Suddenly the look in his eyes changed, and before she knew what he was about, he’d leaned down and captured her lips with his own. It was her first kiss, and it was nothing like she expected. His lips were soft, and they moved over hers with tenderness. Then they were gone before she could respond.

‘For good luck,’ he said, with a crooked grin, as her hand came up to touch her lips. ‘Are you mad at me?’

‘No. I’ve… I’ve never been…’ She dropped her head, kicking at the dust with her sandalled foot.

‘Then I’m glad I did it. Wish me luck, little Ninia.’

She looked up and met his gaze. ‘Good luck Braxus, may Mars guide your hand.’

And without another word he was gone, heading into the crowd so he could position himself at the gate when the challenge went out.

Moguntiacum
MAGNA GERMANIA

A loud knock on the door of the Tribunus laticlavius office was greeted by an equally loud demand to enter.   The messenger, windblown and filthy, obediently entered the small space that was piled high with files, unfurled maps and haphazard shelves of tightly rolled scrolls. His eyes alighted on the only other man in the room, a uniformed officer who had to be the second in command of the Legio 1 Adiutrix. His head was bent intently over a scroll, and he didn’t look up.

‘A message for Tribune G. Annius Bibulus.’

‘I am he.’ The young man looked up, studied the messenger for a brief moment with intelligent brown eyes, before standing and taking the scroll the messenger held out. His short brown hair was already receding, but it didn’t distract from his youthful features. A nice face, women would say. Not handsome, not ugly, not striking… nice. Appealing.

The tribune removed the seal and began to read. The messenger knew he must wait to see if there was a reply to go out immediately. He watched the young man’s face. It went from interested, to concerned, and then to greatly troubled. When he lifted his gaze, there was no doubt the news was dire.

‘Go and rest. Return here at first light, and I’ll have a reply for you.’

T
he messenger took his leave, closing the door after him.

When a young tribune angusticlavius, one of five junior tribunes under Bibulus’ command, entered the office unannounced, Bibulus didn’t even look up from his father’s missive.

‘News from home, sir?’

‘Yes, grave news of a personal nature.’

‘Should I inform your brother?’

‘No. Definitely do not inform Publius, Marcus. I need time to reflect on what I’ve learned. I will tell my brother what he needs to know at a later time. Leave me now, I have to think.’

‘The Camp Prefect has sent word that training is complete for the new recruits. Have you considered their placement?’

‘Set them to work supervising the building in the upper precinct. That should keep them occupied for a time. They’re all so keen to see battle. Little did they know they’d be assigned this peaceful oasis.’

Bibulus shivered as a cold wind whistled through the doorway. How he missed the warmth of his homeland. This place was cold nine months of the year. And if he was shivering now in September, what would he feel like in three months’ time?

He’d extended his tour of duty after he completed his first three years, expecting to be appointed somewhere more in line with his experience. Somewhere with some action. Instead, he remained posted here on the edge of Magna Germania supervising building works, and twiddling his thumbs.

As the door closed behind his junior tribune, Gaius turned his attention back to his father’s news. His mother had divorced him, and was trying to take Anniana. To subvert her, he’d sent his daughter away with a slave. Vali. He remembered the youth: arrogant, like so many of his mother’s slaves. But this one had been his father’s assistant too, and been good at his job, by all accounts. Was that reason enough to entrust his innocent sister to him?

There had always been something not quite right about that slave. Something that had to do with his mother. But he’d never paid it much attention.

So his father thought this Vali would take Anniana to their estate in Britannia.  He wasn’t sure, of course, because he’d had no direct communication with the man. But it was his only possibility, until word from Ninia and her father came in.

What was his father thinking sending a young girl and an
old man off to the ends of the Empire, especially if there were dangerous spies on Anniana’s trail too? The man was surely getting senile!

But what to do? It wasn’t as if he could take off in search of them himself.
Bur Publius was being transferred to the 2nd Augusta Legion in Isca Augusta in Britannia in a few days.

His brother had done only six month stints since he entered the military. No one was willing to put up with him for more than the minimum time. He was a spoiled, cruel and stupid youth who caused dissent amongst the rank and file. So, the answer? Keep moving him around. Share the trouble, so it didn’t have a chance to blow up into something major. Senator Annius Bibulus was a respected man, Vespasian himself had appointed Gaius to his current position. So no one wanted to insult the senator by permanently removing his younger son.

And for the last six months, Publius had been a burr in his side. Even if they did share blood, it didn’t mean he had to like his brother. He’d always hated the way he picked on Anniana. How he tortured animals and slaves alike. How he considered himself superior to everyone. He needed a dressing down. But it was not his place to do it. So it would have to wait until Britannia and his next posting.

Outside his window he could hear the tramping feet of a cohort returning from the city to the barracks. In a few moments, the marching feet would stop, they’d be dismissed, and there’d be happy voices and joking comments as the men made their way to the mess or the baths. The sounds of the camp were so familiar now, he could predict almost every moment of the day and night.

The days were getting shorter and colder. There would soon be less daylight to complete their tasks, and more leisure time to grow bored. What if he asked for a leave of absence? The Legate liked him. He’d understand a family crisis. It wasn’t as if they were at war.