A Legate's Pledge

by Tanya Bird

  The guard fell quiet again, and then his eyes widened as though recalling something. ‘There was another, a Maeatae woman. Caused the men some grief, so we had her put in confinement.’

  That was definitely her. ‘Where is she?’

  The guard hesitated. ‘She’s quite aggressive, sir.’

  ‘I know.’

  Looking confused, the soldier turned and marched off in the other direction. Nerva did his best to keep up. The sound of retching followed them along the narrow passageway, all the way to the small door at the far end. Keys rattled in the guard’s hand, and Nerva gestured for him to be quiet. He wanted to see her before she saw him. Stepping up to the tiny window, he peered inside, searching for her. It was too dark to see anything, so he moved closer, his nose brushing the iron grid.

  Bang.

  Nerva flinched as a fist landed against the door. Even the guard behind him jumped at the sudden noise. Golden eyes flashed, just inches from his. The brightness softened as Brei took him in, and she stepped back from the door.

  ‘You.’

  ‘Me.’ He turned to the guard. ‘Open the door.’

  ‘Sir—’

  ‘Now.’

  The man reluctantly stepped forwards and unlocked the door. When he moved back from it, Nerva took the keys from his hands. ‘You can leave us.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The guard frowned at the door, still ajar, before marching off in the direction they had come.

  Nerva drew a breath, then pushed the door open. It whined in protest. He hesitated before entering, eyes moving over the shadows. Just because she had not killed him once before, that did not mean she would not try to kill him in the future. He waited for his eyes to adjust and spotted her leaning on the bulkhead in the far corner, watching him. ‘What did you do to end up in here?’

  She shrugged. ‘I taught your men some much-needed manners.’

  ‘I see.’

  Brei's gaze fell to his bandaged leg. ‘I’m surprised to see you alive.’

  ‘I heard you saved my life.’

  She looked away. ‘It’s not in my nature to kill an unconscious man.’

  ‘Not even a Roman one?’

  Her eyes returned to him with interest. ‘I thought I’d let your injuries do the heavy lifting.’ She watched him for a moment. ‘Is that why you came here? To thank me?’

  He limped over to hold the wall. ‘I am sorry about the others, about Lavena.’ He was quiet a moment. ‘What happened?’

  Her eyes clouded, then cleared. ‘I left her behind.’

  His eyebrows came together in a firm line. ‘Because she died?’

  ‘She was alive. Injured, but alive.’

  He shook his head. ‘I do not understand.’

  Brei was silent a moment. ‘I left her on the battlefield, amid the dead.’ She blinked. ‘The Romans were collecting the injured, men carrying men—hundreds of them. There was no one to tend the dead.’

  ‘You planned it, then.’

  She drew a breath. ‘My people were watching from the trees. I could feel them. So, I told her to stay hidden until the Maeatae came for her.’ Brei’s voice cracked. ‘I don’t know if she made it. I only know that no Roman would have seen to her wounds while their own lay bleeding. And I have no idea how to remove an arrow.’

  ‘So, you gave her a chance.’

  ‘Maybe. Or maybe she died alone because of me.’ She looked to the hull as if there were a window there instead of more darkness.

  He struggled to find words. ‘For what it is worth, I hope she made it.’

  Brei looked back at him. ‘Me too.’

  Straightening, he took a moment to get his balance before limping back to the door.

  ‘I was indebted to you,’ Brei said, stopping him. ‘That’s why I saved your life.’ He turned to look at her. ‘And I feel sorry for you.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘For me?’

  ‘Your heart’s not in this war.’ She looked over at the door, which he had left open. ‘Not smart, General. Even at your fittest, I could outrun you.’

  ‘You will not get far. Unless you have fins I am unaware of.’ He could have sworn he saw amusement flash in her eyes. She was certainly more relaxed around him than she had been in the past. ‘Some of the other prisoners are sick. You might be better off staying in here for now.’

  She regarded him for a moment. ‘You don’t need to worry about me, General. You’re the one who looks ready to fall down.’

  He reached out and took hold of the doorframe for a moment. ‘How do you find the energy to talk back? I expected you to be a grieving mess.’

  She tilted her head. ‘Why? My family aren’t dead.’

  ‘Even if by some miracle they survive this war, you will never see them again.’

  ‘Of course I’ll see them again.’ Her face hardened. ‘Do you think this is how it ends for me? I drown in my own self-pity and just surrender to the Roman way of life?’

  He stared at her. ‘I think you are naive. Assuming you do not fall ill and die on this ship, you will disembark into a world you cannot even fathom. The noise, the stench, the chaos. The city you are headed to is a stark contrast to the clean air and green mountains you have known your entire life. You will be taken to a market, given a number, and sold like livestock.’

  ‘Then I’ll find a way home.’

  Nerva exhaled. ‘You fought well, but you lost.’

  She swallowed, said nothing for the longest time. ‘I’ll see my family again, or I’ll die trying.’

  His finger tapped the edge of the door. ‘If that belief gets you through, then hold on to it.’ He limped through the door and pulled it shut behind him.

  Chapter 11

  The ship had hit bad weather, the type that nauseated even the strongest of stomachs and had men praying. Feeling useless, Nerva left his cabin and made his way slowly to the deck, where fifty or so men ran back and forth. Violent water sprayed them from each side. They shouted to one another, their words snatched away by the howling winds that carried them south. It was a good thing Nerva’s bed and table were attached to the wall and floor, or they would have broken apart.

  ‘Get below,’ one of the crew shouted at Nerva as he ran past, unaware that he was speaking to a legate. It was not the time to pull him up on the fact.

  Seeing that he would only be a hindrance in his condition, Nerva returned below, but instead of going to his cabin, he made his way down to the prisoners. He was thrown from wall to wall as he descended, his leg throbbing as he worked extra hard to remain upright.

  The smell of sick hit him before he reached the bottom. Looking around for the guard, he found him perched on a stool with his head in a pail. Nerva walked closer, using the wall for balance. ‘Keys,’ he said, when he reached the guard. The man looked up, and when he went to stand, Nerva put a hand on his shoulder. ‘At ease.’ He took the keys from the man’s belt, then made his way down the narrow passageway. It took Nerva a moment to locate the lock and even longer to get the key in. He peered through the small hole in the door as he turned the key, ready for Brei’s usual antics. But as he pushed the door open, he was met by the sound of retching. She was crouched in the corner with her back to him, one hand pressed to the wall for balance while the other gripped the pail.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he called to her.

  He could tell by her expression when she turned around that she had not heard him enter. She collapsed against the wall, ghostly pale with an unnatural shine over her skin. ‘Have you come to gloat?’

  The ship leaned suddenly, forcing him forwards. ‘Just wanted to check if you are still alive.’

  ‘Barely.’ She ran a hand down her face. ‘What are my chances of getting off this ship?’

  He sank down onto the floor beside her. ‘Not very high, I am afraid.’

  Brei pulled her legs up and rested her cheek on her knees, looking at him. ‘I never get sick.’

  He smiled and swallowed down his own rising nausea. ‘They are not faring
any better out there.’

  ‘I can hardly breathe in here.’

  They both closed their eyes as the ship rose once more.

  ‘I might let you out if I could trust you not to assassinate the crew.’ The sound of the side of the ship hitting the water made them both flinch. Brei grabbed hold of his arm for a moment, then quickly let go.

  ‘You Romans have a god for everything. Isn’t there a weather god you can pray to?’

  He breathed out a laugh. ‘That would be Tempestas, goddess of storms.'

  She glanced across at him. ‘A woman?’

  He could hear the amusement in her voice. ‘Of sorts.’

  ‘She’s angry.’

  ‘It certainly seems that way.’

  Brei drew a slow breath. ‘I really need to get out of here.’

  He looked up at the roof. ‘I have enough on my plate without worrying about you being loose.’

  Her eyebrows came together. ‘What plate?’

  ‘It is just an expression.’

  ‘An expression of what?’

  His gaze returned to her. ‘To have a lot on one’s plate means one has enough to worry about already.’

  She flattened her shoulders against the wall as the ship rose again. ‘It would be much easier if I could just kill you.’

  ‘Why don’t you?’

  She was quiet a moment. ‘You have saved my life too many times. It’s a matter of honour.’

  He rolled his head to look at her. ‘Right now, you are desperate, and desperate people are capable of all kinds of dishonourable atrocities.’

  ‘Atrocities?’

  He exhaled as the ship fell once more. ‘Terrible acts.’

  ‘How fitting that you people have a special word for it.’

  The ship rocked, and they were both silent again. It was surprisingly comfortable despite the circumstances, probably because he knew she was too sick to do anything foolish.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ she said after a long silence.

  ‘Yes.’

  Her hands went to her stomach. ‘Were you desperate when you committed all those atrocities?’

  He did not bother to ask which ones she was referring to. Every action she had witnessed since the beginning of the war could be viewed that way. ‘I was doing my job.’

  She glanced sideways at him. ‘That explains why Tempestas is so angry.’

  Nerva noted the sincerity in her expression. ‘Rome’s gods are for Rome. Perhaps she is angry that you stole my horse on the battlefield.’

  ‘You got him back.’

  ‘You shot an arrow at my head.’

  ‘You’re surprisingly agile.’ She rested her cheek on her knees again. ‘If I had been quicker, I wouldn’t be on this boat crippled by sickness.’

  ‘If you had killed me, you would have died at Cordius’s hand the day we arrived in your village.’ He faced forwards again. ‘He would have cut your throat. Though you are attractive enough, so he might have raped you first. They would have found the children hidden beneath the floor, and we both know what would have happened to them.’

  Silence rang out between them as Brei digested the brutality of his words. ‘I never thanked you for sparing their lives,’ she finally said. ‘My sister and nephew were among them.’

  He was about to remind her that the entire Midland was under Roman control, then thought better of it. ‘If you are still alive in the morning, I will get you out of here for a few hours.’

  She closed her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do not make me regret it.’

  Chapter 12

  Brei suspected Nerva was off somewhere having a good laugh as she cleaned fish on deck. She was not averse to the dirty work, but doing it beneath the watchful gaze of a Roman guard with her feet shackled was something else entirely. Where on earth did they think she was going to run to?

  ‘You’re slowing down,’ the guard said, poking her with the toe of his boot.

  She liked to pretend she could not understand him, watch his frustration grow and hear his voice get louder and louder, as though volume were the problem. But she really did not like him putting his feet on her. Rising from the crate, she regarded him for a moment. ‘You want me to slow down?’ She exaggerated her accent and fought back a smile when he rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated noise.

  ‘Not slower, faster.’ He gestured to the pile. ‘Now pick up that fish before I beat you with it.’

  She would have liked to see him try. Remembering the promise she had made to Nerva to behave, she sank back down onto the crate.

  ‘Barbarians,’ the guard mumbled as he leaned against the taffrail.

  Brei shot up again, and the man straightened. Before she had a chance to retaliate, Nerva appeared. She took a step back from the guard when Nerva stopped beside her, looking between them.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  The guard stood to attention, looking far less smug suddenly. ‘No, sir, only that the girl can’t understand me.’

  Nerva’s gaze drifted to Brei. There was amusement in his eyes. ‘Oh, I think the girl can understand you just fine. Perhaps she would prefer to be back in her cell.’

  ‘No,’ Brei said. ‘I would prefer to work.’

  The guard eyed her suspiciously because her speech had suddenly improved.

  ‘Leave us,’ Nerva said, glancing back at the guard.

  The man cast a filthy look in her direction before stepping away. Nerva waited until they were alone before reaching into one of his pockets and pulling out a rolled-up sheet of parchment. Opening it, he held it out to her.

  ‘Can you read it?’ he asked.

  Brei took a step towards him. The clink of the heavy chain around her ankles drew Nerva’s eye, but he said nothing of it. He had likely requested them. She took a moment to study the marks on the page. ‘No.’ She knew she smelled of fish guts and felt oddly self-conscious being that close to him. ‘What does it say?’

  He rolled it back up and returned it to his pocket. ‘It is a letter. I wondered if you knew how to read.’

  ‘I can read, just not Latin. You Romans are always assuming we’re stupid. Perhaps to make yourselves feel better about killing us and stealing our land.’ She nodded towards his pocket. ‘What does it say?’

  ‘It does not matter. I wondered, is all. If you could read, it would greatly improve your prospects when we arrive in Rome.’

  ‘My prospects?’

  ‘Your value. The higher the value, the better the household.’

  She looked down at her hands, wishing she could wash them. ‘They are just marks right now, but if I studied them for long enough, I could probably find meaning.’

  He looked out at the water. ‘Perhaps I could teach you. You are smart, and I suspect you learn fast.’

  She searched his face until his grey eyes returned to her. Then it was her turn to look away. ‘What do you care if I can read or not?’ she asked in Brittonic.

  ‘You should speak in Latin from now on. Practice is important.’

  He had managed to avoid answering her question. ‘Can all of your slaves read?’

  Nerva shifted his weight from one foot to another. ‘Some in my father’s household. Not all.’

  ‘What about your household?’

  ‘When I am not sleeping at the barracks, I stay with my family. I have no need for my own domus. When I marry, perhaps.’

  She cleared her throat. ‘All right. Teach me to read if you think it will help.’

  Nerva nodded. ‘Get cleaned up, and then I will send for you.’

  Her eyebrows rose. ‘I’m to go to your cabin?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where you sleep?’

  ‘Yes.’ He crossed his arms and waited.

  She searched his face for a hint of anything untoward. ‘I won’t lie with you.’

  His eyes creased at the corners, like he was laughing at her. ‘You have a rather high opinion of yourself.’

  ‘Not really, just a ve
ry low opinion of Roman men.’ She stood a little taller. ‘You are the one who said that I was pretty.’

  ‘It was an observation, not a proposition.’ He moved as if to leave. ‘If you are not interested in learning, then just say, “No, thank you”. Now is also the time to brush up on your manners.’

  Her cheeks flushed. ‘I just wanted you to know where I stand.’

  His gaze fell to her feet. ‘Ankle deep in fish guts.’

  She looked down also. ‘It masks the smell of the crew. They sweat wine.’

  He laughed, then covered it with a cough. It was the first time she had heard him laugh, and she felt oddly proud of being the cause of it. He gave her arm a pat, like one does a child.

  ‘I am rather fussy about the women I invite to my bed. You are quite safe.’

  The colour in her cheeks deepened.

  Grinning, Nerva added, ‘You know, you do not smell so great yourself.’ With that, he turned and limped off in the other direction.

  ‘What do you mean, you’re going to teach her to read?’ Marcus said, a smile tugging at his mouth.

  Nerva was lying on the bed with his leg elevated in hope of reducing the throbbing. ‘It will improve her value, and valuable slaves are treated better by their masters.’

  Marcus shook his head and sat on the edge of the table. ‘I thank you for that brief lesson on the workings of slavery. If you don’t mind me saying so—’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘This seems like a rather complicated path to wherever it is you two are heading.’

  Nerva closed his eyes, feeling hot suddenly. ‘We are not headed anywhere.’

  ‘Pfft.’ The tribune picked up one of the letters on the desk and began reading it. ‘You did not tell me Dulcia had another baby.’

  Nerva turned his head and looked. ‘They are private letters.’

  ‘Another girl.’

  Nerva gestured for the letters to be brought to him. Just as Marcus dropped them into his hand, there was a knock at the door. He went to open the door on Nerva’s behalf. Brei stood with a guard either side her.

  Marcus turned to look at him. ‘I shall leave you to your lesson.’