by Tanya Bird
The two men glanced at Nona, who had fallen asleep at the table, her head resting on her hands.
‘Had she really nowhere else to go?’ Marcus asked.
‘If she did, I would have sent her there. My sisters will take her in.’
‘They do love a stray.’
Nerva gently woke Nona so they could get moving again, and Marcus asked for the food to be wrapped so they could take it with them. He also managed to buy some waterskins from the owner.
It was an hour past sunrise when they finally tasted the salty air of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Their horses’ heads hung low to the ground, legs trembling beneath them. Nerva and Nona dismounted, and he patted the mare’s neck. ‘You can rest now, girl.’ He turned to Marcus. ‘See what you can get for the horses.’ He looked at Nona. ‘Do not leave his side.’
Nerva went straight to the merchant ships to find out what their options were.
‘None sailing to Alexandria today,’ said the third captain he approached.
‘I see. Where are you headed?’
‘Barcino.’
Not ideal, but they needed to go somewhere. ‘Do you have room for three passengers?’
The captain looked him up and down suspiciously, taking in his expensive clothes. ‘For the right price, I can make room.’
Nerva nodded. ‘We can pay our way. We have a young girl travelling with us. I trust she will be safe aboard your ship?’
The captain smiled. ‘All part of the service.’
After Nerva had paid the man three times what that service was worth, he went to buy some supplies for the voyage.
‘What the hell are we going to do in Spain?’ Marcus asked him as they prepared to board. He was carrying the wool blankets they had purchased from a merchant.
Nerva glanced back at Nona, who was chewing her lip behind him. ‘Hopefully find a way to Egypt.’
The three of them were silent as they made their way up the gangplank, every step putting more distance between them and Rome.
Three days later they arrived in Barcino, where they were told they would need to take a ship to Carthago, then another to Alexandria. It would be a seven-day wait for the next voyage. Nerva raked his fingers through his hair when he heard that part. He did not like the idea of sitting idle for seven days.
The three of them wandered along the port until they spotted a ship preparing to leave with the tide. ‘Where is this ship going?’ Marcus asked its captain.
‘Britannia.’
Nerva turned back at the word, and his heart stopped beating in his chest for a moment. Britannia. That ship they were standing in front of would dock just a few hundred miles south of Hadrian’s Wall. Why he let his thoughts go there, he had no idea.
‘What is that look?’ Marcus asked him.
‘What look?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘You know exactly what look.’
‘You do have a look,’ Nona agreed.
Nerva cast a disapproving glance in her direction. ‘I am simply trying to figure out the most effective route to Egypt.’
‘Well, I can tell you this,’ Marcus said. ‘It’s not via Britannia.’
The captain spoke up. ‘Londinium, to be exact.’
‘Oh, he’s not fussed about the details.’ Marcus crossed his arms in front of his chest and continued to watch Nerva with an amused expression.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
Nerva tilted his head. ‘I know what you are thinking, and you are wrong.’ He looked down at Nona. ‘I told you I would take you to Giza, and I will.’
Marcus just continued to watch him.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Because the moment our captain friend here said he was headed to Britannia, your eyes went as wide as spoons.’
Nerva looked away. ‘They did not.’
‘They did,’ Nona said.
Even the captain was nodding in agreement.
Nerva rolled his eyes. ‘So?’
‘So, after all this time, you still want to go to her,’ Marcus replied.
‘Who?’ asked the captain.
‘Brei,’ Marcus and Nona replied in unison.
The captain’s eyebrows came together. ‘Who’s Brei?’
‘His one great love,’ Nona said.
The captain pulled a face. ‘Living in Londinium?’
‘No, she is north of Hadrian’s Wall,’ Nerva said. ‘Which is why, even if I wanted to, I could not go to her. In case you have forgotten, Rome’s troops are now south of that wall.’
The captain still looked confused. ‘The north is nothing but a graveyard now.’
‘Do not worry yourself, as I have no intention of travelling there.’
The captain was still trying to piece the story together. ‘You fell in love with a barbarian?’
‘She is not a barbarian.’ Nerva’s tone was abrupt.
‘He could not make it work,’ Marcus continued. ‘Too many complications, commitments, and responsibilities in Rome. Isn’t that right, friend?’ He squeezed Nerva’s shoulder.
Nerva stared at him. ‘I know what you are doing. I am not going to travel blindly through the highlands and, on the odd chance I find her, disrupt her life all over again.’
‘You wouldn’t live long enough to find her,’ the captain mumbled.
Nerva gave a small nod of agreement. ‘We are sailing to Cathargo in seven days.’ As he spoke the words, he glanced up to the grey sky above them.
That enormous sky.
He turned away from the others as an icy breeze came off the water, whipping his clothes. ‘We go to Giza as planned.’
Chapter 41
The snow was relentless, but it did not stop Brei from going outside. She loved nothing more than layering up in furs, her sleeping daughter tucked against her chest as she hunted with Drust and Lavena. Never mind the fact that they usually came back empty-handed thanks to Adhar making noises at the most inopportune moments. It had been fine when all she did was sleep, but now that she was a few months old, she seemed to have decided that sleep was for the weak.
The pregnancy had dragged on forever, made longer due to the fact that her father had not spoken to her after learning the news. But the two months following Adhar’s arrival had flown by in a blur of sleeplessness and adorable first smiles. Her father’s resolve to shun her and the child had lasted all of five seconds from the moment Keelia put the tiny baby under his nose. Now Seisyll was fine—as long as Brei never mentioned him.
It was mid-January when they finally got a day’s reprieve from bad weather. A thick layer of snow covered every surface of their village, and every person living there was trying to jam months’ worth of chores into one day. Brei worked alongside her mother, dyeing leather that would be used for clothing. She cleared a work area with a shovel and laid a blanket over the icy ground so Alane and Adhar could watch her. Her sister was always happy to be the caregiver while Brei worked, an arrangement that suited everybody.
‘Did Father leave early this morning? He was gone before I woke,’ Alane asked.
Brei finished hanging a section of leather, then brushed her hair off her face with the back of her hand. Seisyll had gone to meet with the chief from a neighbouring tribe and would likely be gone a few days. ‘He didn’t leave early, you just slept late.’
Keelia looked up from her work, eyebrows raised. Brei looked between her and her sister, who was also staring at her. ‘What?’
Alane looked down at Adhar.
‘You replied to her in Latin,’ Keelia said, resuming her work.
‘No I didn’t.’
‘Yes you did,’ Alane said, looking up at her. Adhar let out a squeal as though agreeing with her aunt.
Brei wiped her hands as she watched her daughter try to push herself higher off the blanket. ‘Do I do that often?'
‘Yes,’ Keelia and Alane replied together.
‘It puts your father in a mood every time,’ Keelia added.
Brei picked up another section of leather. ‘So strange. It’s been months.’
Alane picked the baby up and sat her on her legs. ‘And yet you think about him every day.’
Brei dunked the leather while glaring at her sister. ‘How would you possibly know that?’
‘Because you spend most of the day looking off down the hill, like you’re waiting for him to appear.’
Brei flicked some water at her sister but stopped when she realised she was getting her daughter also. ‘Do you blame me? It wasn’t that long ago that Romans came through those trees and killed half the people who lived here.’
‘But you are not waiting for an army, are you? Just one man.’
Brei did not want to discuss Nerva, because every thought of him took up another section of her mind. Soon there would be nothing else in there. It was a good thing no one was brave enough to say his name aloud or she might spiral. ‘She will bring up her milk if you keep bouncing her like that.’
Alane’s legs stilled, and she looked at Brei with pity. ‘I don’t blame you, you know. It’s hard to forget a man when you’re reminded of him each time you look at your daughter.’
Adhar’s eyes were the exact shade of grey his were. She also had his light hair and devious smile—and Brei’s ears.
‘You have lovely ears,’ he had told her that day on the ship, fevered out of his mind.
Brei squeezed her eyes shut as her chest tightened.
‘Are you all right?’ Keelia asked, her tone gentle.
Brei opened her eyes and looked up at the sky, and the air returned to her lungs. ‘I’m fine.’
Nerva insisted that Marcus take Nona to Giza as planned. It was his foolish decision to return to Caledonia, his risk, possibly his biggest mistake. He did not want them to be a part of it.
It took ten days to sail to Londinium. When the ship docked, he went in search of a horse and supplies, then rode north to Eboracum. It was tempting to call upon people he knew there, but he could not risk news of his whereabouts getting back to Caracalla. The man had sole control over the Roman army now, and if he wanted information, he would get it.
After a day’s rest, Nerva began the 130-mile journey to Hadrian’s Wall. Despite all that thinking time, he struggled to come up with one logical reason why he was proceeding with his insane plan. Simply wanting to see her was not an adequate reason to disrupt her life again. Needing to know she was home and safe came close, but there were other ways to get that information without him travelling halfway around the world. His family was waiting for him in Giza, his mother had no idea where he was at all, and he was about to ride solo into hostile territory with only a few names and a marked-up map. It was not uncommon for tribes to move around, especially during times of conflict, which meant there was every chance he might die from cold or hunger before he ever found her—if he did not receive an arrow through the chest first.
And yet he did not turn back.
When he reached Hadrian’s Wall, he gave the guards a fake name and told them he was a horse breeder in search of highland ponies. The men exchanged a doubtful look.
‘You are going to round up wild horses by yourself?’ one man asked.
‘My job is to locate the herds and make a note of their numbers and condition.’
‘You understand there are no troops past this point?’
‘Yes.’
The guard shook his head and went to open the gate.
It was another one hundred miles to Antonine’s wall, and while the days passed without incident, the air grew colder and his mind more fragmented. When the wall finally appeared in front of him, he stopped his horse and stared at it from afar, feeling a strange sadness creep over him. He remembered it alive with soldiers, and now there was nothing but ghosts.
He slept the night in the abandoned fort, and in the morning, he ate in silence while reading the graffiti on the eroding walls. When he finally passed through the gates, he stopped his horse on the other side and gave himself one more chance to turn around. No harm done at that point, only time wasted. Brei would never know he had been that close to her.
His gaze travelled up to the low-hanging clouds. Pressing his heels into his horse’s sides, he continued on.
Nerva travelled north-east for two days before he realised he was being followed. He tried not to panic. The fact that he was still alive meant they probably wanted to know who he was before killing him. He kept riding, bracing for an arrow in the back. Only when his horse was too tired to continue did he stop, forced to acknowledge the presence. The feeling of being watched climbed his spine. He could sense them amid the trees, as he had done many times before. This time he did not have an army to intimidate, to fight for him, to tear roots from the ground until there was nothing left to hide behind. He had no armour or real power of any kind. In that moment, he was vulnerable.
Dismounting, Nerva slowly removed his sword and laid it on the ground in front of him. Then he did the same with the dagger strapped to his leg and the one hidden in his bag. Afterwards, he raised his hands and stepped back from them. His gaze swept the trees. ‘I do not mean you any harm.’ He spoke in their language. ‘I am searching for a woman, a friend. Her name is Brei.’
Silence.
Nerva remained patient, not moving as he gave his watchers time to evaluate his story. Just as he was losing hope, a man emerged from behind a tree, holding a spear. His clothing looked distinctly Maeatae. His thick brows were drawn together as he eyed Nerva with suspicion.
‘Tell me again the name of the woman you search for.’
A few more men emerged from behind trees, watching him with interest.
‘Her name is Brei. Her father is Seisyll, chief of one of the tribes. I am not even certain he is alive, or if she is, for that matter.’
Of course she was; he would have felt her death as though it were his own.
The man’s expression darkened. ‘And how do you know this woman?’
Nerva swallowed, wondering what answer to give. We met on the battlefield, I took her from her home, sent men to destroy her village. I made her my prisoner, put her on a ship, locked her up, abandoned her, found her again, loved her. Instead, all he said was ‘We met during the war. I just want to make sure she is all right.’ That was partly true. He also wanted to feast on the sight of her happy, back home where she belonged.
The man’s fingers moved on the spear as he processed the new information. ‘You are very foolish to set foot on our land, Roman.’
Nerva looked down at his weapons, dusted with fresh snow. ‘Foolish. Desperate.’
The man continued to study him. ‘Tell me your name.’
‘Nerva Papias, formerly General Nerva Papias of the third Britannia legion.’ It came out like a confession. He watched the man’s eyes widen slightly and braced for that spear to pierce him.
‘Tie him up,’ the man said.
As two men came for Nerva, his gaze went to the weapons, barely visible through the snow now.
What had he done?
Chapter 42
Brei was sitting on the stump of an oak with Adhar on her knee, bouncing her daughter extra fast just to see her laugh. Whenever the baby squealed, her eyes shone a little brighter.
‘Why do you get to have all the fun?’ Alane called. She was crouched beside their goat, taking milk.
‘Because I’m her mother,’ Brei replied. She brought her nose to Adhar’s, causing another fit of hysterical laughter. Brei could not help but laugh also. ‘Was I this cute as a baby?’ she asked her mother.
‘No,’ Keelia replied flatly. She was skinning a deer Brei had caught that morning. ‘You were the most serious child I’d ever come across.’
Alane laughed. ‘Adhar clearly gets her easy nature from her father.’ The moment she said it, the smile fell from her face. ‘Sorry.’
Brei rolled her eyes. ‘It’s fine. I won’t fall apart at the mention of his name.’ Not true. Sometimes just the thought of him knocked the wind from her lu
ngs.
Alane was about to say something when Drust and Lavena burst through the trees, running up the hill towards them. ‘They’re back!’ Drust shouted. Lavena tripped in the knee-deep snow, and Drust pulled her straight back up. He was too young to travel with the warriors, and Seisyll had convinced him the reason he had to remain behind was for the protection of the village. Drust took the responsibility very seriously for a boy of eight. The moment he had risen that morning, he had woken Lavena, and the pair had rushed off to climb the tallest tree they could find. They had kept watch all day.
‘Good,’ Alane said, straightening. ‘Now maybe you can help me for a while.’
The children came to a stop, Lavena desperately trying to catch her breath. ‘They have a prisoner,’ she said. ‘A man.’
The three women turned to look at them, and then Brei rose, slowly. Her eyes went to the clearing as she settled Adhar on her hip. ‘What man?’
Drust’s eyes were wild with excitement. ‘A Roman.’
A cold sensation gripped Brei. There would have to be good reason for him to be venturing that far north in the dead of winter, and an extraordinary reason for her father to bring him into their village. Her heart was racing as she watched the clearing, her mind going to places it should not have ventured. The disappointment would crush her.
Alane walked over to join her, knowing better than to say anything. Keelia had not moved, her expression pensive.
‘There,’ Drust said, pointing down the hill.
A group of men emerged onto the snowy plain below. She recognised her father, and the four warriors who had travelled with him. One of the men led a horse she did not recognise. In the middle of the group walked a bearded man, hands bound behind his back. He was not a soldier, but even at that distance she could tell his clothes were distinctly Roman. Brei took a few steps forwards, hands clammy as she tried to focus harder on him. The prisoner’s gaze travelled up the hill, and she felt the moment it landed on her. A warm sensation spread though her. He was too far away to see his face properly, but she knew it was Nerva.
He stopped walking, and his stance changed. She could tell he recognised her also, felt the same draw that she did. All the men stopped too, looking up the hill to see what held his attention.