Successio

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Successio Page 3

by Alison Morton


  ‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ came a voice behind me. That tingle ran across my shoulders again. The blonde sergeant I’d last seen at the check-in table was standing in my blind spot. I hadn’t heard her approach in the noise of the talking, joshing and laughter around me.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The Colonel’s compliments and would you and the senior members of your detachment care to join him in twenty minutes’ time for a pre-supper drink?’ Her face was neutral, but despite her pleasant tone, I was strangely reassured to be holding my fifty centimetres of carbon steel.

  ‘Er, yes, of course, we’d be delighted.’

  Showered, changed and relaxed, I made my way over to the staff tent. I enjoyed the social stuff that went with military life. It was far less hypocritical than civilian parties; you had straight talking and the chance for genuine friendships based on common experience.

  I exchanged smiles with the dozen women and men loitering outside holding plastic cups containing different coloured drinks. The entrance flaps on the tent had been pegged back for air circulation; it was a warm evening. I ducked through and found the rest of our officers and non-coms talking to their hosts.

  ‘Major. Here, take this.’ Captain Browning materialised beside me and handed me a cup of what turned out to be warm white wine.

  ‘Thanks, Captain. Hey, what’s your first name?’

  ‘Michael,’ he said grinning. ‘And it’s not shortened.’

  ‘Okay, Michael,’ I smiled back. ‘Carina.’ We shook hands. He really did have the nicest smile.

  ‘That was an impressive display earlier,’ he said, standing near to hear my answer. The alcohol and testosterone in a confined space made it pretty noisy. ‘Do you teach it?’

  ‘Only to the most agile and those who can handle the emotional side, otherwise the casualty rate is too high.’

  ‘I suppose it’s the chain that induces the desperate need to fight so savagely,’ he mused.

  ‘Yeah, it’s pretty much do or die. Well, it was in the old days.’ Criminals awaiting a death sentence had been offered the option of link fighting. If they won, they got off. But the state had usually put a champion gladiator on the other end which weighed the odds steeply against the likelihood. These days, because of the danger of emotions racing out of control, only the military or licensed gladiator schools sanctioned it, and under restricted circumstances. ‘It was illegal until a few years ago. I was, er, instrumental in re-introducing it.’

  ‘Yes, after a spell in the cells for illegal fighting, if I remember correctly,’ a cool voice added. I shut my eyes, suppressing both irritation and pleasure at the sound.

  ‘Sir,’ said Michael, finding our legate in front of him. He took in the other man’s tall, athletic frame, dark blond hair slicked back behind his ears and hazel eyes which glinted more green than brown at this precise moment.

  ‘Captain Michael Browning, Legate Conradus Mitelus.’ I vaguely waved my hand from one to the other.

  Michael, being a Latinist, got it immediately. ‘Ah, I see. If you’ll excuse me…’ He nodded and left us in our group of two.

  ‘Well, that worked,’ I said, rolling my eyes at the legate.

  ‘He was getting a little too friendly, I thought.’

  ‘For Juno’s sake, Conrad, he was being collegiate.’

  ‘Does staring down your front count as collegiate?’

  ‘He was not!’

  He snorted. Although a bone-and-blood Roma Novan, despite his foreign name, my husband of fifteen years was still prone to jealousy attacks. I smiled to myself but I wasn’t going to let him off too easily.

  ‘What in Hades are you doing here, anyway?’ I said. ‘I thought you were in London with the children, and Stella.’ I found his daughter, Stella, from his previous relationship awkward and difficult. I didn’t like it one little bit that she’d joined the PGSF as a cadet officer and had accompanied her father today. But I knew how to be civilised.

  ‘That’s not a very friendly welcome – I thought you’d be pleased to see me. I came to see how you were all getting along.’

  ‘Right, like we’re a load of kids, needing our babysitter?’

  ‘You seem a bit tense, love. Are you all right?’ He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. A wave of warmth rolled through me. How could he have the power to do that after all this time? We were an old married couple.

  ‘I’m fine, really. Maybe a bit tired. But there’s something else. Probably nothing to worry about, but—’

  ‘Ah, Legate,’ interrupted a muscular man of medium height, with a self-important air. He was a Brit, around mid-fifties, his neck chafing on the collar of his new-out-the-stores fatigues jacket which carried red tabs. So some kind of general. His eyes flicked over me casually. ‘I’m sure your officer will excuse you. I’d like you to meet some people.’ Our host, the local commander, Colonel Stimpson, hovered behind him with a totally neutral expression on his face which to me signified he thought the other guy was a pain in the fundament.

  Conrad’s expression contracted and his mouth retreated to a straight line. ‘Just before we circulate, I don’t believe you’ve been introduced to my wife, Major Carina Mitela, who is leading the training detachment.’ He turned to me with a big smile. ‘Carina, this is Brigadier Furnell from the Department of Defense. Oh, excuse me, the Ministry of Defence.’

  ‘Oh, pleased to meet you, I’m sure.’ He looked as if he was eating grit. ‘Well, you’d better tag along, Major.’

  He turned away and set off through the crowd. Conrad looked furious. I laid my hand on his forearm. ‘It doesn’t matter. Really. They’re like that here, especially the top brass, as Michael calls them.’

  ‘Hades, I don’t know how you put up with it. I can’t remember it being like that when I trained here.’

  ‘Well, love, you’re a man. And you were very young. You wouldn’t have noticed.’

  *

  Eventually I broke free and went outside for a few minutes’ fresh air.

  ‘Aunt Carina?’

  I turned to see a brown-haired girl, slim to the point of skinny, in tailored fatigues. Her fingers on one hand twisted and twined around those on the other.

  ‘Hello, Stella. Are you all right?’

  She glanced away, then back to me, with none of the assurance of a normal twenty-one-year-old.

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Dad said we’d be staying here tonight, but I don’t know where I’m supposed to go.’

  At that moment, I felt sorry for her; she was alone amongst strangers and not very skilled at reaching out.

  ‘Let’s find Centurion Servla – she’ll know, or if she doesn’t, she’ll sort it out.’

  Back inside the staff tent, I cornered Paula. It was unfair, I knew.

  ‘Centurion, do you have space in your tent for an extra one? Cadet Apulia needs a bunk for the night.’

  Not one scrap of reaction showed on Paula’s face. ‘Of course, ma’am. I’d be delighted. I’ll go and sort it out right away.’ As she turned to make her way back to the accommodation area, her shoulders set, I knew I was going to pay for it later.

  ‘I thought I’d be in with you,’ said Stella. ‘Why can’t I?’

  ‘Really, Stella. That was rude. Centurion Servla may have heard you. You’re very junior. Just do as you’re told.’

  Gods, she looked truculent. She stuck her chin out and her dark brown eyes boiled. That was the problem with rich kids – they didn’t have a clue. Officer Cadet Stella Apulia had enjoyed a privileged upbringing – she was the eldest daughter of Imperatrix Silvia – but despite her mother’s best efforts, she hadn’t grasped that she needed to take on responsibilities in exchange. ‘Serve to lead’ was no empty slogan.

  ‘Centurion Paula Servla is a very senior soldier and I’m grateful to her for looking after you. You will treat her with maximum courtesy and fit in with her. She’s not there to run around after you. Nor is anybody else in the unit.’

  Stel
la looked mutinous.

  ‘If you want to stay, you have to knuckle down, work hard and accept discipline. You wanted to join. Of course, you always have the choice.’

  ‘Why are you so horrible to me?’

  ‘Oh, please! I’m trying to show you how to behave. Gods, Stella, you’re twenty-one, not twelve.’

  We stood there, glaring at each other. The trouble was, nobody wanted to cross her. I was one of the few who would. Not only did I have the social rank, but her mother, Silvia, was my cousin and friend.

  ‘Look, Stella, you’re not in the palace now. You’re a small, but promising, cog at the lower level of a very efficient machine. Once you’ve grasped the knack of working with others, and respecting them for what they do, you’ll find it very rewarding and you’ll make real friends.’

  ‘It’s alright for you, everybody likes you,’ she said, her face sullen.

  ‘Well, news for you – it didn’t happen overnight. I had to earn it.’

  I wasn’t about to tell her the full story of the difficulties I’d had; it was done and gone. But the twin burdens of being married to the boss and being joint head of one of the most powerful and wealthiest families in Roma Nova hadn’t made my initial path as a junior officer in the special forces very smooth. Navigating between the toadies and the spiteful in order to find true friends and comrades sure had honed my people skills. But the difference between me and Stella? I loved the life, the excitement, the sense of fulfilment, the buzz, from the work I did. She didn’t know what she liked or wanted.

  *

  Later as we lay together on sleeping mats in my tent, Conrad told me about the small act of vengeance he’d enacted against the pompous Brigadier. After the post-supper port at the senior staff table, the Brigadier had invited Conrad to stay at the local hotel where he and his Defence Ministry people were putting up. Conrad said he’d prefer to sleep with his wife, and begged to be excused.

  ‘I thought Furnell was going to have a stroke. Stimpson, who was standing a little behind him, gave a little smirk – not at me, love,’ he added, seeing my reaction, ‘but at the shiny-arse from the ministry.’

  I laughed, bent over and kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘Thank you. You really are the nicest man.’

  He didn’t say anything, but the warmth grew in his eyes. Even in the dim light, I could see them darken. He leaned over and kissed my eyelids, my jawline, making his way up gently but determinedly to my mouth. Oh, the warm pleasure of it. The graceful line of his throat stretched above me. His masculine scent overwhelmed me. His body always excited me. Although military bedrolls were not the most comfortable or sensual surroundings for passionate love-making, we managed to frighten the local wildlife.

  *

  Beginning the day with a fresh egg and bacon roll – hot, salty bacon coupled with the firm liquid of a fried egg bursting in your mouth – in the quiet of a pine forest with the sun starting to shed its early light on you took some beating. The cook grinned at me, sensing an appreciative customer.

  ‘Like another one, ma’am?’

  I swallowed the last piece and grinned back. ‘No. No, thanks. Nothing could better that.’

  ‘Coffee and tea are inside, but come back if you want another,’ and he winked.

  I pulled the heavy canvas flap of the mess tent aside and found a few other early souls. Passing on the muddy-looking coffee I filled a mug from the tea urn.

  ‘Sleep well?’

  Cute question.

  ‘Hi, Michael. Yes, thanks. I’ve always loved camping out and it’s so quiet here.’

  ‘We’re either not trying hard enough to make it sufficiently uncomfortable or you lot are tougher than we think.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I smirked at him. ‘Get over it.’

  He chuckled and raised his mug of tea, toasting me.

  The rest of that day, we packed up the camp into cargo trucks. Even Stella helped, acting as Conrad’s runner. That strange young woman, the admin sergeant, seemed to be everywhere, but as I stood up, pausing for a moment after securing the straps on my own pack, I caught her staring at Stella and Conrad. He turned away to sign Flavius’s el-pad, and Stella watched the two men, oblivious to the interest from the sergeant. What jolted me was the violence in the British girl’s scrutiny. Her mouth twisted in anger and her eyes shone hard and pitiless. Then in a nanosecond, it had all vanished and her serene expression was back. I blinked. What in Hades was that about?

  I watched her covertly for a little longer, but she disappeared after a few minutes. After personal farewells to our hosts and final parade, we drove back to the main barracks allocated for our use, until recently an RAF base given over to the EUSAF. I’d decided to grant the whole detachment three days’ local leave before going home to Roma Nova and Flavius was briefing them about observing local sensitivities. He organised them into groups of three or four, with the youngest guards paired with more experienced ones.

  ‘The gods help us when this lot hits London,’ he muttered under his breath to me while Conrad was giving them a lecture about English dos and don’ts.

  ‘No problem, Flav. I’m more concerned about the stuff they’ll absorb from the locals.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You haven’t forgotten Operation Goldlights, surely?’

  Flavius and I had met when I’d been undercover fighting the wholesale introduction of illicit drugs into Roma Nova. We’d stopped it then, but it was one of the biggest worries faced by our law and security forces.

  ‘Of course not!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘They’ve all been warned specifically – no tabs, no powder, no sprays or they’re out. They’re meeting up with some of the English we’ve been training with, so I hope that’ll help.’

  ‘You’re kidding! You know how they drink.’

  ‘C’mon, Bruna, they’re not kids.’

  I shrugged. I just prayed there was one particular English sergeant they were not meeting. If Fortuna was smiling on me, she’d sent that girl back to the Brits’ permanent base in the west and we’d never see her again.

  III

  On the second day in London, we arrived back at the hotel suite late afternoon after an activity-packed day; the Tower, the Battersea theme park, a burger stop, Skateboard Central and a browse through the City children’s farm. I thanked fate yet again for my cousin Helena. When she’d given up teaching and taken on supervising my kids, it had been one of the luckiest days of my life. She’d turned out three happy, inquisitive, healthy but immaculately mannered beings.

  Well, mostly.

  Allegra had started teenage grunting recently, which Helena assured me was perfectly normal. I wasn’t too sure. She was the child of my heart and until a few weeks ago, I had been almost smug about how much pleasure we gave each other. Most fourteen-year-olds, when I’d been one in the States, were beyond embarrassed to admit they actually had mothers. I hadn’t been so lucky; mine had driven herself off a cliff when I was three.

  But Allegra and I had been friends always. We’d sit together, she curled in my lap when little and close by my side when older, as we read books, talked, played on the games console together. I’d sit by her when I could, helping her with homework assignments, giving her confidence to try new things and consoling her when she failed or fell. She poured her heart out to me, sometimes teaching me things, and listening seriously to what I said. She’d send me a soft smile, followed by a chuckle then a full throated laugh. Then a few weeks before we came here she’d transformed, like she had a split personality; flirting with her father, still giving Helena respect and polite to everybody else, she saved all her grumping for me. Fabulous.

  The twins, Tonia and Gil, at ten were über-boisterous after an exciting day out in London but that didn’t entitle Allegra to drag along all day saying how bored she was. She knew better. And that made me angry. She knew it would be her turn tomorrow and we’d leave the small ones and Helena behind.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re worrying about, love,’ said
Conrad. ‘It’s just a phase.’

  ‘Right. A phase. Sure. You’re getting all the Daddy’s girl treatment and I’m Cruella de Vil.’

  ‘Forget about it tonight. We’ve got dinner with Andrew Brudgland later, so you can relax and leave it to Helena.’

  ‘You don’t think that’s the problem? I mean, Helena and not me?’

  ‘Carina, look at me.’ Mm, always a pleasure. Although he was gaining one or two more lines around those mesmerising eyes and tiny grey wings at his temples, his smile was so warm and sexy, I forgot everything else.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Yes?’ I said.

  ‘You are a great mother. You love our children unreservedly, you nurture them, help them, defend them. You have responsibilities, sure, but they know that and none of them feels any less loved because of it. So stop it.’

  ‘But why—’

  He laid the tip of his finger on my lip. ‘It’s not you. She’s just trying to work out who she is. She’s an adolescent.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Helena says I have to persist, keep talking, support her, talk to her as an adult. But all I get back are grunts.’

  ‘It’ll pass. Honestly.’

  ‘And what makes you the great expert?’ He had no sisters and only distant female cousins. Then I remembered. Stella. He saw I’d got it.

  ‘Quite. Remember her at fifteen? I know she can still be awkward, but she’s a great deal improved. I think living at the palace has kept her a bit immature. Hopefully, that’ll go when she gets to the officer training school.’

  Personally, I had my doubts.

  *

  Rules Restaurant belonged to another world. Welcomed by a smile from the top-hatted commissionaire, tall with the assured, disciplined air of a former soldier, we passed into the care of wonderfully polite, hyper-efficient servers sporting tab-fronted aprons and tailcoats. Light bounced between the gold-framed mirrors, reflected off the fabulous coloured glass ceiling and fell on our party dining in a discreet corner. The spaciousness, soft leather benches and thick carpet recalled a more comfortable and relaxed age.

 

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