Marcus

by Nhys Glover

  “Hold onto him!” cried the voice of authority.

  Hands grabbed me up again, but they were slippery with mud. I took advantage of that., My back muscles screaming as I fought, I writhed and twisted like a snake. Physical pain meant nothing now. I had entered the place a soldier went to when about to enter a battle. All my focus was on the fight. And this fight, against an unseen enemy, was the hardest of my life.

  Squirming, I tried to kick out as best I could. Although I was not a large man, my time in the army had strengthened me. I was no weakling and was determined to prove it.

  A sharp backward thrust of my head gained me a cry of pain as my skull collided with a nose. I heard a litany of swear words muffled by a hand over my victim’s face. I would have smiled in triumph had I not been gagged.

  But fighting and breathing through a blocked nose was taking its toll. I could not keep up my struggles for long. When the blow came again it was almost a relief.

  I dropped once more into oblivion.

  Chapter Five

  ACCALIA

  We made our way off the small ship, which had carried us across the Mare Germanicum, onto the busy dock a short distance from the colonia locals called Camulodunum. I was caught between relief and dread. It had been a long and arduous journey to the end of the empire, and I was glad it was finally over. Yet I dreaded what was to come next. I had been freer and happier during the last months than at any time in my life. I did not want to lose my freedom or the close bond I now had with my pack.

  But no matter how good this time had been, I could not extend it. Pater’s slaves and his legacy were dependant on me.

  “You should change,” Orion said quietly as we strode along, my balance no longer affected by the shifting of the ground beneath me. I still felt sick occasionally but the rolling dry land no longer bothered me. That was what time did for you. It made you grow accustomed to things that would otherwise upset you.

  But no amount of time dimmed the upset of Pater’s death, or the threat that remained from the Parthians. I woke up on many nights covered in sweat, having dreamt I was recaptured by dead men and raped for the trouble I had caused them.

  “You are no longer a virgin,” the leader would snarl at me with disgust. “Our prince will not mind if we make use of you now.”

  I shuddered, remembering that dream.

  Talos glanced across at me and frowned.

  “All right?” he asked, cringing as he did so. He knew I did not appreciate him asking this question.

  “Yes, of course. I am just not anxious to don my women’s garments again. And that wig we picked up in Gallia does not seem the best fit.”

  “It’s not the wig that’s a poor fit, but the life it promises,” Typhon commented sagely.

  I shrugged. “I am looking forward to going home and being myself again there. I will be able to be me all year around, not just when Pater is gone.”

  I fought back the sob that immediately threatened whenever I thought of Pater.

  “Your people will be glad to have you back,” Talos said, pressing my arm.

  “I am sure Ariaratus is serving them well enough.”

  All four men gave a grunt of amusement.

  “What?” I demanded in annoyance.

  “He is an old man almost past his usefulness. He filled in well enough for you, but when emergencies came it was always you the people asked for,” Orion answered.

  It was gratifying to know that I was of use to my people. Other patricians might see their slaves as the useful ones, but I knew it was a two-way arrangement. If I cared for the interests of my slaves, they cared for mine by producing the best offspring, becoming the best gladiators, and harvesting the best crops. Pater taught me that, as his pater had taught him.

  We had reached the end of the dock and showed our documents. Mine had been purchased in Antiochia from a man whose son had died. It said I was free born and twelve years old. If anyone looked too closely at the document it would be easy to see that I was older than twelve and was not dark enough to be of Syrian decent. But most people did not bother to look too closely. And from now on I could throw away those papers and assume my own identity.

  Of course my identity would shift and change yet again in the next days. I would become Ennia Natalina, the wife of Marcus Valerius Natalinus. Once that deed was done I would be free again. My uncle would have no control over me. I would be part of Marcus’ paterfamilias.

  The journey to the township passed quickly, and I was surprised when Orion announced we had arrived. I looked around me in bemusement.

  This colonia was the most depressing settlement we had yet come across in our travels. Memories of the recent rebellion sprung to mind, but the extent of the devastation was far greater than I had expected. There were half-demolished buildings standing next to hastily thrown up stone huts and tents that would have looked more at home on a battlefront. Mixed in were the round dwellings favoured by the local tribes. There was little evidence of the civilization Rome was so proud of bringing to its empire. Only the late afternoon sunshine gave the place any kind of ambience.

  “This reminds me of Rome after the fire,” I muttered in dismay.

  “A little smaller though,” Asterius joked, trying to ease my mood.

  I tried to tell myself it did not matter what this place looked like. I would not be here long. Once I had found Marcus and we had gathered our seven witnesses for the wedding, I could leave again and go home. Wives of officers did not journey with their husbands. Only the camp followers and local women did that. Life, even in established colonia like this one was considered too primitive and unsafe for delicate matrons. My presence, even for a short time, would lift brows.

  “Maybe we should have found accommodation at the port,” Talos commented with a sigh.

  Although Marcus had seen me dressed as a boy on many occasions, I could not go to meet him as I was, so I needed to change and become Ennia. This I would do in whatever accommodation we could find that provided a little privacy for my transformation. Once I was dressed as a woman again we could go in search of my husband-to-be. Though I would dearly love to have a bath first, I knew that in places like this the public bathing facilities would be all male. I had to hope that the governor’s residence had private facilities. It was where I would be expected to stay.

  As we strode through the muddy streets with the late afternoon sunshine on our backs, I noticed the movement of troops among the crowds still out celebrating the Floralia. They hastened with speed and determination, not the steady stride they used to get from one encampment to the next, and people jumped out of their way with weary looks and gritted teeth.

  My men must have noticed too, because they frowned and exchanged glances. Something was afoot. Something that spoke of danger.

  However, everyone we had spoken to on our travels had said the colonia in Britannia was now pacified. There was no more danger in the settlements, even if there was in the outlying areas as yet unconquered.

  “What is it? Why are the soldiers on the move?” Orion demanded of a man standing nearby, also watching the legionaries with interest.

  “An officer went missing. Kidnapped they say. They’ve been turning the place upside down all afternoon. Ruined the festivities, they did. Flora won’t be happy,” he answered in a disgruntled growl. It was not loud enough for any of the soldiers to hear him, I noted with interest.

  “Kidnapped. But how is that possible?” Orion went on, more concerned than I understood.

  The man shrugged and turned away. He was clearly not in the mood to gossip with strangers about something as sensitive as this topic.

  “Do you have a name? Do you know who this officer is?” Orion demanded, grabbing the man’s arm to halt his escape.

  The man, a shopkeeper by the looks of him, took in Orion for the first time and blanched. I did not blame him. Orion was a formidable sight, standing taller than anyone around him besides his fellow pack-mates. His blonde hair shone bright in t
he sunlight, and his blue eyes were all the more conspicuous because of his tanned skin. As always, he was in stark contrast to the dark heads all around him.

  “Tribune Valerius Natalinus. One of the staff officers working on the wall.”

  It was as if the whole world went suddenly still in that moment. I turned to stare at first one and then another of my pack-mates, not sure I had heard the man correctly.

  Marcus? Marcus had been kidnapped?

  My mouth must have fallen open, because Typhon nudged my ribs in warning. I closed it with a pop, my mind reeling.

  We were hurrying forward before I had time to think about our next move.

  “What will we do?” I asked plaintively, not liking how whiney I sounded.

  Marcus was my friend. Even if I had not been marrying him, I would have been upset by this turn of events. I knew only too well what it was like to be kidnapped. But why? Why would anyone take Marcus? He was not politically important. He was the lowest grade amongst the tribunes and his administrative role made him even less important.

  “We go to the forum and find someone who can tell us what in Hades is going on,” Orion said gruffly, his expression like a thundercloud.

  “Should I not get changed? I will get better answers as his promised wife,” I suggested, panting at the pace we were setting. I had to run to keep up with my men’s long legs.

  “We’ll see how far we can get as we are. If that isn’t far enough you can get changed.” Orion spoke tersely, not wanting to be bothered with insignificant matters when our world was suddenly turning on its head.

  Already the ramifications were becoming clear to me. If I could not marry Marcus I would become my uncle’s charge and all of Pater’s property would pass to him, including my pack. This was more dire than I had first thought. Not only Marcus’ life was at risk, but so were the lives of all those I loved.

  “This is Etruscus,” Typhon said through gritted teeth. “It has to be.”

  I turned to stare at him, my mouth dropping open again.

  “Think about it,” he snapped, correctly interpreting my utter bemusement. “Marcus has no importance to the politics of this area. Why would the local tribes, already quelled, take a minor officer captive? But Marcus is the only thing standing in the way of your uncle gaining everything his cousin worked for. If you can’t marry him then you belong to Etruscus, as do we.”

  “He is cannier than I thought,” Typhon went on. All this time I thought he would come after us, steal Accalia away, and return her to Rome. But that required finding us, and we could have been anywhere. But Marcus was easy to find. All Etruscus had to do was find a way to keep Marcus from marrying you.”

  “But not even my uncle would kill a member of the equestrian class,” I argued between gasping breaths.

  My men had finally realised what they were doing to me and slowed considerably. I was grateful for it, although I wanted to hurry as much as they did. But my side was already cramping. After so long without exercise, this short sprint was taking its toll.

  “He doesn’t have to kill him, just keep him away from you. We need to be doubly vigilant now. His next target will be you. Once he has you, he can let Marcus go,” Typhon explained, addressing me, though his words were for all of us.

  Orion was nodding his agreement. “It makes sense. It makes too much sense. He would have been told of the proposal, of the marriage contract sent to Marcus and signed by his father and yours. But it is not completed until seven citizens of Rome witness the exchange of words.”

  My mind was racing now, taking in all the possibilities. Typhon had the fastest mind, but none of us was stupid. And he made horrifying sense. There was no good reason why Marcus would be taken except to stop our marriage.

  “If this is the case then you are better off remaining as Tahir for now,” Orion decided.

  I considered the suggestion. Though I thought I would have more influence as myself, if my uncle’s men were really on the lookout for a young woman called Ennia Corva, they would not look twice at a youth called Tahir.

  “It might not be my uncle,” I argued, even though I did not believe a word of it.

  “I know,” Orion replied. “But until we have more of an idea of the situation, it’s better if you stay in disguise. The man may have been wrong. Marcus might not have disappeared. Gossip can be wrong.”

  I nodded, holding on to that hope like a drowning man clings to flotsam. But in my heart of hearts I knew, just as my pack did, that the man had not been wrong.

  We reached the small forum, a mismatch of towering temple, half rebuilt administrative buildings and crudely constructed temporary structures and entered the first we came to. The guards at the door seemed out of place in front of such a place.

  Inside was like a disturbed hornets’ nest. People were dashing about, eyes wild with concern. Orion caught the arm of one tall, distinguished looking slave who was rushing by. He had a presence about him that marked him as someone of significance. Surely he would know about Marcus.

  “We have come looking for Marcus Valerius Natalinus,” Orion said with authority.

  The man’s face lost all colour as he took Orion in and then glanced quickly at the rest of us. His dark eyes rested longest on me, his brows arching in surprise at the sight of me.

  “He is missing. Someone has taken him. You are the Wolf Pack?” the man said, his words cultured and elegant even if his tone bordered on desperate.

  It was our turn to be surprised. How would this slave know who my men were?

  “How do you know that?” Orion answered the question with a question of his own.

  The man shook his head, as if annoyed by his mistake. “I am Phaedrus, slave to the governor. I have had the pleasure of assisting Tribune Valerius Natalinus since his arrival. He mentioned you were bringing his bride to him.”

  He looked at me again, as if he knew exactly who I was.

  “You must be close for Marcus to have discussed us with you,” I said softly, too aware there might be ears listening.

  “We... He is an impressive young patrician. I have been proud to assist him with his work,” came the correct reply, though I thought there was a lot more to their relationship than he implied. Marcus would never have discussed me with just anyone. He might tell the governor, who would be expected to be one of the witnesses to our vows, but not his slave. Unless, of course, this slave overheard talk of us. But that did not feel right.

  “Tell us what has happened,” Orion asked more than demanded this time, clearly also picking up that this Phaedrus was not just any slave.

  “He went out to inspect the building site at midday. He is involved with the construction of the wall, which has become a priority since the uprising. Two guards, auxiliaries, accompanied him. He went behind the partially constructed wall and was out of sight for no more than a few moments. When the guards went to investigate, they found him gone. After scouring the area, they then reported back here. The governor has had all his forces out searching ever since. There has been no sign of him.” The worry in the man’s voice was only too apparent.

  “Has there been any unrest among the tribes?” Orion asked again.

  Phaedrus shook his head. He was a handsome man in his late twenties or early thirties, with intelligent eyes and graceful movements. I could imagine Marcus falling for a man like this.

  “No one has any idea who has taken him or why,” Phaedrus answered, his voice catching.

  “We do. How much do you know of Marcus’ marriage plans?” Orion asked.

  Phaedrus glanced around anxiously, before indicating we follow him. Clearly, this discussion needed to be held somewhere a little more private.

  He led us into a small, shabby room that had a collection of stools arranged around a bench table. It was primitive and in keeping with the rest of the place, though I imagined the senior officers and governor had far better rooms allocated to themselves.

  We sat and waited in silence for Phaedrus to start. “I
know that you, Mistress,” he looked at me and nodded, “are in need of a husband so your father’s legacy can be protected. I know Marcus was willing to go through with this marriage because he is your friend, and he knows how important it is to you. I know he was concerned about your kidnapping but knew the Wolf Pack would rescue you. How are you faring?”

  I blinked a few times in surprise. “I am no worse for the experience. But the death of my pater is not as easily put behind me. Now this...”

  He nodded. “You are just as Marcus described. And you have travelled as a slave boy with these men all the way from Asia Minor?”

  I nodded. “A free youth, but yes. It has been a long journey. And now to find we are just half a day late... It defies imagination. My uncle has taken him, of course. Or his men have. That is the only reason for this to have happened.”

  Phaedrus opened his dark eyes wide in surprise, but I could see his mind was already working with this new information. “To keep him from marrying you?”

  I nodded again. “It makes perfect sense. If there is no unrest here at the moment then there is no other reason for him to be taken. My uncle is making sure I cannot marry Marcus.”

  “Why take him rather than kill him?” Phaedrus mused aloud.

  “Killing the son of a powerful equestrian would be his last resort. He simply needs to keep him away from me until I can be captured and returned home.”

  “How do you know this?”

  I looked at my men. “We do not know it for certain, but it makes the most sense. Natalinus is a powerful man. No one would want to be responsible for the death of his eldest son. And suspicion would fall on my uncle, just as it would if I were to die.”

  “But to take him in the first place. It is a reckless move.”

  “A desperate move,” Asterius said. “Etruscus wants his cousin’s wealth and believes it is rightfully his. He likely thinks Corvus arranged this marriage to thwart him, which he did. It would have infuriated him. Driven him to make rash decisions.”

  “My uncle suffered greatly from the fire in Rome. Much of his investments were destroyed. Even though Pater helped him out financially, he would see his death as a godsend. As the head of the paterfamilias now, he believes he is entitled to all Pater owned,” I explained. “And, if I did not think he would destroy everything Pater built up, I would give it to him. But he is an ignorant and arrogant fool. I know that only too well.”