The Pillars of Rome

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The Pillars of Rome Page 36

by Jack Ludlow


  The burning drawing was no more than a conjuring trick to terrify the gullible, and he could now dismiss from his mind the occasional fears it produced.

  EPILOGUE

  Claudia sat alone, as all over the house they prepared to commemorate, with prayers, the life of Aulus Cornelius Macedonicus. Senators were arriving and crowds had gathered in the street to mourn with the family. She knew once it was over she would have to decide what to do, and although not resolved, she had a fair idea of the course she should take. First, find the spot where her child had been exposed, then if there were bones, a proper, albeit secret burial, if not a priestly ceremony and a sacrifice to ease the passage of the child’s soul.

  If that talisman was still there she could consider a return to Spain. If not, she must track it down, working out a way to effect that without bringing disgrace on the Cornelii name. But let that wait; now it was time to see to the funeral rites of her husband, and to pray to the gods that he would have more peace and happiness in Hades, than he ever enjoyed here on Earth.

  The golden haired boy, now near a youth, with the dog Minca at his side, stood by the side of the Via Appia, the road that ran north to Rome and south to Sicily. He, despite his inclinations, could not travel in either direction. Having given what money Fulmina had bequeathed him to the guard, he was stuck here until something happened. Perhaps, with the news of victory in Illyricum, Clodius would come home, after all; yet the boy was not sure if he could face him. One thing he knew, that he would take food from Dabo, but never work in his fields.

  Aquila turned and walked away, past the burnt outline that was all that remained of the hut in which he had grown up. He continued on down the stream to stand, after a lengthy walk, at the spot where, according to Fulmina, he had been found. He stood there for an age, trying to conjure up an image of the woman who had borne him and the people who had abandoned him, a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes. Inadvertently, his hand touched the leather amulet, his fingers tracing the outline of the eagle’s wings, wondering if what Fulmina had said was true; that his destiny lay with what was stitched inside.

  Taking it off his arm, he looked at it intently, seeing the hooked beak and the wide wings of the eagle in flight. He would keep his vow to the woman who made it, and only open it when he feared no man; that was not now, but it would be soon. And then he would leave this place, to go where he did not know, and perhaps he would find the destiny that his adopted mother had seen in her dreams.

  About the Author

  JACK LUDLOW is the pen-name of writer David Donachie, who was born in Edinburgh in 1944. He has always had an abiding interest in the Roman Republic as well as the naval history of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, which he drew on for the many historical adventure novels he has set in that period. David lives in Deal with his partner, the novelist Sarah Grazebrook.

  By Jack Ludlow

  THE REPUBLIC SERIES

  The Pillars of Rome

  The Sword of Revenge

  The Gods of War

  THE CONQUEST SERIES

  Mercenaries

  Warriors

  Conquest

  THE ROADS TO WAR SERIES

  The Burning Sky

  A Broken Land

  Written as David Donachie

  THE JOHN PEARCE SERIES

  By the Mast Divided

  A Shot Rolling Ship

  An Awkward Commission

  A Flag of Truce

  The Admirals’ Game

  An Ill Wind

  Blown Off Course

  Enemies at Every Turn

  Copyright

  Allison & Busby Limited

  13 Charlotte Mews

  London W1T 4EJ

  www.allisonandbusby.com

  Hardback published Great Britain in 2007.

  Paperback edition published in 2008.

  This ebook edition first published in 2011.

  Copyright © 2007 by DAVID DONACHIE

  (writing as JACK LUDLOW)

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All characters and events in this publication

  other than those clearly in the public domain

  are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978–0–7490–4090–1

 

 

 


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