Hostage to Fortuna

by R. W. Peake

  This made me roar with laughter, and it took a moment before I could catch my breath.

  “You’re more right than you know. But,” I grinned, “I didn’t stay with her; she came with me.”

  “Gerrae!” Gemellus’ eyes went wide, but then he asked suspiciously, “Are you having some fun with us, Pilus Prior?” I saw his involuntary wince, but Licinius said nothing, and I decided to ignore it by telling him, still with a grin, “Come to the Faun tonight and see for yourself!”

  This was how we made our way through the Cohort, and while most of the reception was happy, I was not surprised that with Calpurnius, his smile was as false as everything else about him. Honestly, it was Saloninus I wanted to see the most, and I will not deny that there were three eyes with tears in them, but when he asked about the future, I said only, “Come to the Faun tonight. Besides,” I grinned, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  It was midday by the time I had made my way through the Cohort, accepting their congratulations, and listening to their own tales of what had happened to them when the huge storm had scattered us. Most of the men who were stranded ended up in Gaul, but what we had heard was confirmed, that there were other men who had been stranded in Britannia, although none of them were from the Fourth, and as far as anyone knew, they had all been returned safely. Then it was time for me to leave the camp and go to Alex’s apartment, and when I knocked on the door, it was Alex who opened it.

  “I brought everything here,” he told me, but before I could say anything, he was shoved aside from behind, and I came face to face with Algaia, who without any warning whatsoever, leapt up into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck in a manner that reminded me of Miriam. Then, like my mother, she stepped back and slapped me.

  “That,” she sniffed, “is for scaring me.”

  Turning to Alex, I was only partly jesting when I complained, “Why do women like to hit me when they’re happy to see me?”

  “I want to hit you most of the time too.” He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s us; I think it’s you.”

  Algaia had just stepped out of my path as Bronwen appeared from the other room, with Iras on her hip. The baby gave me a smile that now had several teeth, whereas when I had left, she was mostly toothless, but while Bronwen was smiling as well, there was something uncertain about it, which I assumed was about my fate; I was only partially correct.

  I knew it was a bad idea, yet I could not stop myself from trying to make a joke, asking Bronwen, “Do you remember how badly you wanted to see Rome?”

  “Yes,” she answered cautiously, but I saw the worry there.

  “Well, you’re going to get your chance.”

  By the manner in which she staggered, I thought she might faint, and clearly so did Algaia, because before I could blink, she had crossed the room, taken Iras with one hand while steadying Bronwen with the other, all while glaring at me.

  “Do you think you are being funny, Gnaeus?” she snapped at me.

  When I glanced to Alex, the shake of his head told me that I was on my own, so I mumbled, “I did, but I realize now that wasn’t a good idea.” Pointing to the table, I suggested, “Let’s all sit down, and I’ll tell you what I know. Which,” I tried to warn them, “isn’t that much.”

  Of course, they all complied, and I was about to suggest that we might want some wine for this, then realized this would probably get me slapped again.

  Taking a breath, I produced the scroll as I explained, “I’ve been summoned to Rome for some sort of new assignment, at the order of Germanicus.”

  Alex asked to see it, and I handed it to him, watching his frown as he scanned what was in effect a short order, simply stating that I was to come to Rome and giving me all the necessary authority to commandeer any travel means I needed.

  “Wait,” he spoke up. Pointing at the top, he said, “This is dated in September. How do you know that it’s still valid?” I explained what Sacrovir had told me, but this did not satisfy my friend, and he asked impatiently, “Are you sure that’s all it said? That you’re being assigned to Rome? Not in any specific role?”

  “No, there wasn’t anything mentioned. Although,” I suddenly remembered, “Sacrovir did mention that this new order said that it’s not permanent, and that I’ll be able to come back to the 1st.”

  I could tell by the manner in which his head came up sharply that this caught Alex’s attention, and I worried that he would press the matter, forcing me to divulge what Sacrovir had said about nothing being guaranteed. When I learned why he did not, I cannot say I was any happier.

  “Can I talk to you outside?” he asked, but he should have known how this would be received by the other two participants.

  “We have every right to know whatever you plan on saying to Gnaeus,” Algaia snapped, and while Bronwen did not say anything, she was nodding vigorously.

  While he has never believed me, the reason I acquiesced was not because I did not want to face their wrath, but that I agreed with them, and I told him, “Go ahead and say what’s on your mind.”

  “I think I know what Germanicus wants you to do,” he spoke slowly, and he was clearly reluctant. “When I was talking to Lysander and some of my friends in the Praetorium, I learned that things are…tense between Germanicus and Tiberius.”

  “I heard about that,” I assured him, but he shook his head.

  “I highly doubt that you’ve heard what I’m talking about, because this just happened yesterday. Remember what Marcus told us about something happening yesterday? Well, there were several dispatches that came in, and all of them were from Germanicus. Now,” he cautioned, “I don’t know much, but from what I can piece together, it appears that a Praetorian Prefect has gotten it into his head to make some sort of move against Germanicus, in favor of Drusus.”

  This made me groan aloud, which I regretted immediately because of all the color draining from Bronwen’s face, so I hurried to explain, “This fits with what Sacrovir told me, because one of those dispatches was to him, and,” I pointed to the scroll, “it was to inform Sacrovir that it was still in effect, and that I was to come to Rome immediately.” We were silent, and I got the sense that neither of us wanted to be the first to say it, so I did it. “It sounds like I’m going to be in one of the Praetorian Cohorts. And,” I finished through clenched teeth, “I’m willing to wager I know who, because if there’s any Praetorian mad enough to try and bring Germanicus low, it’s that mentula Sejanus.”

  We sat there in glum silence, and suddenly, I had no desire to go to The Dancing Faun, but I knew I had to. Thinking that this might cheer Bronwen up, I turned to her with a smile and said, “Since the Primus Pilus gave me an extra day, I’m going to be showing you off to my boys at The Dancing Faun. Which,” I thought this might help, “I own, by the way.”

  She smiled wanly, but then Algaia interrupted by standing up and taking Alex’s arm. “My love, may I speak to you privately?”

  “Now?” Alex frowned up at her, but I saw the look and interpreted it the same way he did, because he stood immediately and followed Algaia into the other room.

  Just before they entered their bedroom, Algaia stopped and looked over her shoulder, directly at Bronwen, who instantly colored. In that instant, I was certain I understood what was happening; all of this was too much for her, and despite her vow, she wanted to return to Britannia. It hurt, but I could not blame her at all, so in an attempt to stop her from saying something that would be at least as painful for her, I put one hand over hers in a signal that I wanted to speak.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” I began, to which she shook her head. “No, I do,” I insisted. And, I had to swallow the bitter lump before I assured her, “And I understand, I truly do. And I don’t blame you for wanting to return home. This…” I felt my eyes sting, “…isn’t what I promised you.”

  I had looked away from her because I knew that I would shame myself, but she did not say anything, although she had not pulled her hands out from un
der mine.

  Finally, I could not take the tension anymore, and I lifted my head to look at her to see an expression I had never seen before, while her mouth opened, then closed, repeating this a few times before she finally managed, “Gnaeus, I am with child.”

  I heard her plainly enough, yet now it was my turn to be unable to get anything out, until I finally managed to croak, “What did you say?”

  “I said that I am with child.”

  “How…how do you know?” It was all I could think of.

  “Your mother said she thought I might be,” she replied calmly, “but it was Algaia who confirmed it. I,” her lip began to quiver, and I saw for the first time how she was struggling to maintain her composure, “am carrying your child.”

  “So you don’t want to go home?”

  “No, but do you want me to return to my people?”

  It was the look in her eyes that did it, and I almost shouted, “Of course not!”

  She threw herself across the table into my arms, and I suppose it was the noise that told Alex and Algaia they could come out of their bedroom, joining us in a celebration that, for the moment, made me forget about what lay ahead of us. It was not until a couple days later that the humor of the moment hit me; it had been Alex’s mother who had been the first to let him know he was going to be a father, and it was my mother who indirectly did the same for me. For his part, Alex thought it was one of the funniest things he had ever heard in his life.

  That moment in Alex’s apartment, once things calmed down a bit, I impulsively stood up, went and got Bronwen’s fur-lined cloak, and told her to come with me while I addressed Algaia, asking, “Do you have any apples?”

  She instantly knew why I asked, and she clapped her hands with delight, which she explained, “I take Iras to see him every day, and we haven’t gone today.”

  “Then I guess we’ll all go,” I said, and while we waited for Iras to bundle up the baby, Bronwen kept trying to find out what was happening, to which I would only tell her she would find out shortly.

  I was still in my uniform, although I suspect that even if I had not been, the handful of civilians with whom I had had some form of interaction would have recognized me, but while they nodded or hailed me, it was always from a distance and never more than that. Despite the reason for their circumspection, I could not help chuckling at this reminder how there are no secrets in a military town, and they undoubtedly knew that I was, at the very least, in some sort of trouble. The stable where I had moved Latobius before we left for the campaign was not far from the apartment, and when we entered through the gate, before we had gone more than ten paces into the open area between the three sides lined with stables, I heard him an instant before his head thrust out in a huge cloud of vapor that billowed from his lungs because of his neighing, and I felt my throat constrict. The others stopped, I suppose to give me a moment alone, and I realized that with my armor on, we could not play our game, so I held the apple in my palm, which he completely ignored, thrusting his long neck out instead, then bowed his head. Latobius, my father’s horse, had only done this with me once before, shortly after my father’s death, but I knew what he wanted, and I took my helmet off so that our heads could touch, whereupon I stood there with him for only the gods know how long, neither of us moving.

  “I missed you too,” I whispered, feeling a bit foolish, but when I glanced over to Bronwen, Algaia, and Alex, I saw they were similarly affected.

  Only then did he take the apple from my hand, and as always, I reveled in the feeling of his soft mouth against my palm, laughing at the tickling sensation as I always did. I beckoned to Bronwen, who seemed hesitant, which I found unusual, because we had learned that she was a skilled and experienced horsewoman.

  “Latobius, this is Bronwen. She’s my woman,” I said to him, and I made my tone stern, “so you need to behave yourself with her, do you understand?”

  His response was to completely ignore me, but this time, he did something I had never seen him do; he again ignored the apple, except that this time, he thrust his nose directly into Bronwen’s belly, his nostrils dilating as I stared at Bronwen, who stood there calmly, stroking Latobius’ forehead as he snuffled.

  Thinking I understood, I explained, “We usually play a game where I hide an apple in my tunic and he finds it. Since I’m wearing my armor, I suppose he’s just playing the game with you. Although,” I laughed, “he must be getting old if he didn’t see it in your hand.”

  She gave me an amused look as she held out the apple in her palm and said confidently, “That is not what he is doing. He just found out I am carrying your child.”

  I laughed in disbelief, but while she was smiling, I could see that she was serious. And, given how Latobius behaved around her afterward, I have become convinced she was correct.

  The only person put out by our reunion was young Iras, who did not get to feed Latobius his apple that day, and I was forced to promise her mother that since we would be leaving the day after the next, she would get one last chance.

  “Now, we better get some rest,” I ordered with a grin. “I suspect that we’re going to need it tonight at The Faun.”

  There is not much of the rest of that night I recall, although I do remember having my arms draped around the sagging shoulders of Alex and Macer; more than that, I remember their complaining about my weight. Oh, there are bits and pieces, mainly involving bumping my cup with one of the men as we toasted each other, over and over, and of course, of Bronwen glaring at me for my never refusing another cup. Perhaps the best memory of that night is how, for a brief period of time, I forgot what lay ahead and just enjoyed being surrounded by comrades once again, even those men who I normally thrashed for some sort of misdeed. The next morning was every bit as unpleasant as the night before had been enjoyable, but even in my misery, I silently thanked Primus Pilus Sacrovir for his foresight. Unfortunately, there was one more unhappy moment coming, when Bronwen and I returned to Alex’s apartment as we, after taking Iras to give Latobius his apple, walking into the middle of a screaming argument, and once more Algaia came charging at me.

  “Tell him he cannot leave me to go with you to Rome!” she shouted, and after I ducked the punch she aimed at me, I gaped at Alex in astonishment.

  For his part, he was sitting at the table, arms crossed but refusing to look in my direction, while Iras immediately began doing her best to compete with Algaia in volume from her spot on Bronwen’s hip. I glanced at my woman, who understood, moving to Algaia’s side as Alex’s wife’s anger dissolved into tears, handing Algaia the baby while I went to sit across from Alex.

  “I thought we had settled this,” I told him. “We both agreed that you should stay here! Licinius already said that he needs you back with the Fourth!”

  “No, you said I should stay here, and I didn’t say no,” Alex shot back, but I noticed not only were his arms crossed, he was looking everywhere but at me, or Algaia, who I could hear sobbing behind me as Bronwen tried to comfort her. “That doesn’t mean I agreed.”

  “Oh, don’t act like a lawyer,” I snapped. “If you didn’t intend to agree, you should have said so.”

  This made him look uncomfortable, and he said nothing for a moment, his eyes going to Algaia and Iras; I do not think I have ever seen him look so unhappy.

  “I thought I could do it,” he said finally. Turning his head to address Algaia, he said, “I want to stay here with you, meum mel, I truly do. But then I asked myself, ‘What would my father do’?” He returned his attention back to me, and his tone turned accusing as he said, “You of all people should understand that.”

  And once he said it, I did. It was more than that, however; the truth was that I did not want to leave him here in Ubiorum, something that I had confessed only to Bronwen because, while I wanted him to come with me, I also understood that Algaia and Iras needed him.

  Alex got up from the table, walking over to Algaia, and while she resisted at first, she left Bronwen’s embrace
and stepped into his arms.

  “I don’t know what to do.” He was addressing Algaia, but I heard him, and this shook me, because Alexandros Pullus always seems to know the right course of action. “You need to believe me, wife.” He held her at arm’s length so he could look down into her eyes. “I have no desire to be apart from you and the baby, but I can’t deny that I feel certain that, if he was alive, my father would tell me that I am a Pullus by duty if not by blood, and that means my place is with Gnaeus.”

  Algaia said nothing for a span of heartbeats, then she pulled away from his grasp, but I know I was not prepared for what came next, and judging from his reaction, neither was Alex.

  “Then,” she said simply, “we are going to Rome with you.” Alex, as I expected, shook his head, but before he could say anything, her tone sharpened. “If you leave us here, I will wait a day, then follow you, Alexandros Pullus. I,” she declared proudly, “am no longer a slave. I am a free woman, which means I can choose to come and go as I please. And,” Algaia looked over at Bronwen, who made no attempt to hide her pleasure, “I have a friend who is expecting her first child, and she needs me.”

  Alex did not say anything to his wife, turning to me instead with a pleading expression, but I held both hands up in a gesture of surrender, refusing to say anything even after he glared at me for a span of heartbeats.

  Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he said, “I suppose I need to go buy a wagon.”

  And this is where I must stop. We have been in Rome for some time now, and I am facing yet another decision that will affect not just me, but my wife, infant child, and Alex and his family. It has been an eventful time, and I am just thankful that I have survived my time as a Centurion of the Praetorian Guard, at least so far, but only the gods know what lies ahead of me, as I continue to be a hostage to Fortuna.