by Tanya Bird
‘Nerva.’ His name came out choked, but she felt instant relief at finally saying it aloud after months of swallowing it down.
Alane frowned. ‘What?’ She brought her hand to her brow, as though that would improve her vision somehow. ‘Is that—’
Brei passed Adhar to her sister before she had a chance to ask the question. She needed to run, and it was not safe with a baby in her arms. She started down the hill towards him.
‘Where’s she going?’ Drust asked his mother.
Brei’s feet sank deep into the snow, slowing her down, but she did not look away from him the entire time for fear she was hallucinating. Her pace quickened, her heavy breaths sending puffs of steam into the frigid air. Nerva tried to move forwards but was abruptly stopped with a harsh jerk on his arm. They all stood watching her approach. She could feel her father’s eyes on her but could not tear her gaze away from Nerva long enough to look at him.
‘Nerva!’ His name was out there again, the sound warming her aching ears and melting the snow between them. She was just ten feet from him, oblivious to everything else, every disapproving stare.
Slam.
She gasped when she hit a hard chest and looked up to see her father glaring down at her.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
She shook her head. He was blocking her view of him which panicked her. Move, she wanted to scream at him. ‘Please.’ One word that seemed to shock her father.
‘Is he who he says he is?’
She tried to look around him, but he continued to block her with his body. ‘It’s Nerva.’ She said it like his name would explain everything.
Seisyll drew a long breath and finally stepped aside. To Brei’s relief, Nerva was still standing there, his face pale and lips blue from the cold. Those grey eyes watched her with the same intensity they always had.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, unsure of what else to say.
The faintest of smiles tugged at his lips, and he shook his head, searching for an answer. ‘You.’
She waded towards him, the last few steps closer to leaps. Then he was in front of her. She threw herself at him, wrapping him with her arms and legs. With his hands tied, all he could do was bear the weight of her in his fatigued state and bury his face in her.
The men looked between each other, then to Seisyll.
‘I love you too,’ Nerva whispered into her damp hair. ‘I should have told you that before you boarded.’
Brei pressed her eyes shut, holding him tighter, if that was possible. She did not care who was looking as her skin soaked up the warmth of Nerva’s words.
‘Untie him,’ her father said, his tone resigned.
Nerva jolted as the rope was cut from his wrists. Then his hands were free and his arms went around her. The strength of his embrace made her suck in a breath.
‘Geta is dead,’ he whispered.
She opened her eyes but did not move.
‘Caracalla ordered damnatio memoriae.’
She blinked. ‘Damnation of his memory.’
‘It will be as though he never existed.’
Brei let go of him, and he lowered her to the ground but kept his arms around her. The men continued to watch on with disapproving expressions. ‘And I suppose you are part of that memory.’
He nodded. ‘I was headed to Giza.’
Her mouth twitched. ‘This seems a little out of the way.’
Nerva’s eyes drank her in. ‘You are worth the detour.’
Seisyll cleared his throat. ‘Go inside.’ He gestured for them to start walking. ‘We will talk then.’
Nerva finally let go of her, and she took his icy hand between hers. The rest of her family stood with worried expressions on top of the hill. Nerva was about to discover that he had a daughter.
The group walked in silence. Every few paces, Nerva’s thumb rubbed the back of her hand, as though reassuring her it would be all right. He should have been fearing for his life, not offering her courage. The raw joy that had surged through her a moment ago was compacting into a hard ball of fear. She was about to reveal a secret she had thought would die with her.
The walk up the hill seemed eternal. About halfway up, Brei heard Adhar’s familiar squeals. She was feeling playful. Brei glanced up at Nerva. His face was serious as he took in the village, but it softened when he looked down at her. She let go of his hand as her family came forwards to meet them. Alane still had Adhar on her hip, and Keelia’s hands were planted firmly on the shoulders of Drust and Lavena, holding them in place. She let go to embrace Nerva, but when Seisyll cleared his throat, she stepped back.
‘It is good to see you safe and well,’ Nerva said to her. His eyes went to Lavena. ‘And you.’
Lavena smiled, then looked at Drust. ‘He was the nice one,’ she whispered.
‘I see you’ve met my husband,’ Keelia said.
Brei’s father stood with his arms crossed and bushy brows pulled together in a deep scowl.
‘Yes. He was kind enough to escort me here.’ Nerva rubbed his wrists where the rope had scratched his skin raw.
‘He’s lucky it was me who found him,’ Seisyll said, ‘or he’d be just another Roman corpse rotting beneath the trees.’
Nerva nodded a greeting at Alane. ‘Nice to see you again under slightly less hostile circumstances.’
Alane smiled weakly, looking nervously down at Adhar, then at Drust. She cleared her throat. ‘That’s my son, Drust.’
Nerva gave another nod in his direction. ‘I saw you running ahead of us. You are even faster than Brei described.’
The boy pushed out his chest and grinned at Lavena.
Nerva’s gaze fell to Adhar. ‘Is this your little sister?’
Drust looked up at his mother, and a painful silence followed. Nerva looked around, confused by people’s reaction to his question. Brei opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
‘Right,’ Keelia said, walking over and taking her husband by the arm. ‘All of you inside before you freeze. Quickly now.’
Seisyll glanced at Nerva, a warning in his eyes, before reluctantly following after his wife. The rest of the men dispersed also, their hard gazes on Nerva as they left.
‘Ah, come on you two,’ Alane said, grabbing Drust by the arm. ‘I need your help inside.’ As she went to leave, she realised she was still holding Adhar. She handed the baby to Brei, and Adhar nestled contently into her mother’s shoulder.
Nerva did not take his eyes off the infant.
‘This is Adhar. She’s…’ The words stuck for a moment, and Brei coughed. ‘She’s your daughter.’
Nerva continued to stare at the baby with an expression Brei did not recognise. It was difficult to read him with all that facial hair. The only sound was the hushed conversation drifting out from the huts.
Brei could not take the silence any longer. ‘Please say something.’
Nerva’s gaze travelled up to meet hers. ‘She has your ears.’
Brei blinked with relief. ‘She does.’
Nerva swallowed, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. ‘Can I hold her?’
Warmth flooded her. She had expected him to be angry, but if there was one person in the world who would understand, it was him. ‘Of course.’ She held the baby out for him to take. He looked like he had held her every day of her life, perching her on his forearm and shifting the woollen blanket back just enough to see her face properly. They studied one another for a moment, and then Nerva’s mouth widened into a grin. Just when Brei thought her heart could not get any fuller, Adhar smiled back at him.
‘Look how easily Maeatae women fall for your charm.’
Nerva drew Adhar close to his chest, cradling her head in his giant hand. Brei felt the heat of tears on her cheeks and brushed them aside.
‘You are not angry, then?’ she asked.
He looked at her. ‘I do not have the right to be angry. I told you to go. Knowing about the child would have only hardened my res
olve.’
She nodded. ‘I didn’t know until after…’ After they had broken each other’s hearts. She attempted a smile. ‘Now what?’
He reached out a hand and ran his finger down her cheek. ‘I have no idea.’
‘I can’t believe you’re here, and that my father didn’t kill you on sight.’ She smiled, but it faded quickly. ‘How am I supposed to let you go? How will you walk away?’
His expression turned serious. ‘I will not.’ He drew a breath and pressed his lips to the blanket covering his daughter’s head. ‘I will not,’ he said again. He pulled Brei to him, holding them both close.
‘What about your family?’ Brei asked, her chest heavy. ‘What about Rome?’
Nerva kissed the top of her head and exhaled into her hair. ‘You and Adhar are my family too.’ He pulled back to look at her. ‘Rome belongs to Caracalla now. I cannot return while he is alive.’
She kissed his chest repeatedly, fighting back tears. ‘I promise you, the day he dies, I will take you back to Rome myself.’
Nerva looked out at the white-capped mountains, then back at his daughter. ‘Adhar. What does it mean?’
Brei turned her face up to him. ‘It means sky.’
His hand went into her hair, pulling her closer. ‘As ridiculous as this love story is, as illogical, improbable, as completely inconceivable, I love you anyway. What other woman ever stood a chance against you?’ He brushed his nose over hers. ‘Look at this precious gift the gods have bestowed. We should take it as a sign.’
‘A sign of what?’
‘That the hate has passed and the war is over. I know now that I was not sent to Caledonia to destroy you. I was sent here to find you.’
Brei pushed herself up on her toes and kissed him, long and deep. He was right. Their fight was over.
‘Inside,’ Keelia called from the doorway of the hut. ‘Let’s get Nerva warmed up and fed before he falls down.’
Brei moved back but kept an arm around him. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dragged you to safety.’
Nerva draped an arm over her shoulders, the weight of it making her feel untouchable. The three of them headed to the hut just as snow began to fall. Brei turned her face up, enjoying the sting of snowflakes on her skin. Nerva’s arm tightened around her, and he brought his lips to her ear.
‘How much work will it be to win your father over?’
She smiled up at him. ‘He’s not as easily charmed as the women.’
‘I figured as much when he tied me up and marched me through the mountains on foot, despite the perfectly good horse I arrived on.’
Brei suppressed a smile. ‘You’re not afraid of a bit of hard work, are you?’
‘Would I be here with you if I were?’ His eyes shone at her.
Brei took Adhar from him. ‘In you go, General.’
Nerva gave her a tired wink, then entered the hut.
Epilogue
Seisyll had warned him it would not be an easy life, but Nerva found highland living far easier than the previous life he had grown to resent. He found satisfaction in the simple existence, the physical work, the routine. There were no mind games around the dinner table or constant looking over his shoulder, only honest interactions, and eventually, acceptance. For five years he lived happily among the Maeatae.
Another child came along, a boy they named Rufus in memory of his father. They both taught the children to speak, read, and write in two languages, to ride a horse, fight, hunt, fish, and love their mother as fiercely as he did.
He wrote letters to his sisters, filling pages and pages so they would not miss out on knowing his children. The letters to his mother were much shorter but frequent enough to put her mind at ease. He never told her where he was, but he knew she was smart enough to figure it out. As much as it hurt him not to hear from his family, he would not risk any harm coming to Brei, the children, or the tribe he had grown to love.
In April that year, Nerva was outside helping Rufus make a bow when three men appeared through the clearing on horseback. One of the men was Marcus Furnia.
‘Who that?’ Rufus asked.
A wide grin spread across Nerva’s face. ‘An old friend of mine.’
Once he had assured everyone in the village that Marcus was a trusted friend, the pair went off to talk in private.
‘Gods, look at you.’ Marcus said. ‘Please tell me you are not covered in tattoos.’
Nerva laughed, clapping him on the back before turning to him. ‘You look good with a beard.’
Marcus laughed and looked around. ‘As do you. Where’s your lovely wife?’
‘Hunting with Adhar.’
Marcus’s amused gaze returned to him. ‘Of course she is.’
Nerva looked him over, realising how much he had missed his friend. ‘Want to tell me what you are doing here?’
Marcus’s expression suggested whatever he was about to say was big news. ‘I wanted to tell you this in person.’
Nerva waited, not moving.
‘Caracalla is dead.’ He paused, giving Nerva a chance to absorb it.
‘How?’
‘Killed by one of his own soldiers, on his way back from taking a piss.’
Nerva linked his hands on top of his head, exhaling. ‘A fitting end.’
Marcus chuckled, then turned serious again. ‘Five years I’ve been drifting about. Now I’m finally going home.’
‘What of Cordius?’
‘Emperor Macrinus wasn’t a fan. Sent him to Africa. Don’t think he’ll be back in Rome any time soon.’
Brei had returned from hunting and stopped in front of them. A dead deer was draped over the horse’s shoulders. ‘Marcus?’
They both turned to look at her, and the smile fell from her face.
Brei sat in silence as they broke the news. Afterwards, Keelia took Marcus away to eat while Brei and Nerva sat processing the news.
‘You have given me five years. Now it’s time to return to Rome.’
‘I am not going to leave you.’
‘Who said anything about leaving me? We’re a family. We go where you go.’ She reached out and took his hand. ‘I told you that the day that man died, I’d take you back there myself.’
Every day Nerva fell a little harder for her. He looked over to where Adhar and Rufus were playing with the bow. ‘You think they are up for the journey?’
‘Are you joking? Ever since our Adhar learned where you’re from, she’s talked about going to Rome to stay in the palace you were raised in.’
‘It is hardly a palace.’
‘Look around you. This is all they’ve ever known.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘They should know something of the world you come from.’
Nerva glanced in the direction of the hut. ‘And what of your family?’
‘They’ll miss us, but they’ll understand.’
And so the decision was made.
One month later, the family travelled to Eboracum with Marcus. Nerva no longer had to hide his identity, his past, or his wealth, which made everything simpler. While it was by no means an easy journey with children aged five and three, no one fell ill. They finally arrived in Ostia Antica at the beginning of summer.
From the port they made their way to the city on horseback—a city now ruled by Emperor Macrinus. They went straight to the house. Nerva knew his mother had returned to live there but did not know what kind of reception they would get. He entered the domus with a sense of nostalgia, panicking the servants, who had not known to expect him. They waited in the atrium, the children looking about in awe at the overpriced art and expensive furnishings.
‘Are you a king?’ Adhar asked.
Nerva bent and picked her up, kissing her nose. ‘No, my love, just a man.’
‘Your father is not just a man’ came Aquila’s voice.
Nerva turned to the doors that opened out to the garden and saw his mother standing there. While she had aged since the last time he had seen her, she still had that famous grace
and wore the same superior expression.
‘He is a patrician of Rome,’ she continued, ‘a former senator, and a celebrated legatus legionis. A man of noble birth is a king of sorts.’
‘Hello, Mother.’ He watched the emotion play out on her face before she caught herself.
‘You came home.’
He nodded, then walked over to kiss her with Adhar still in his arms. Aquila turned her attention to the girl, her expression guarded.
‘And who is this?’
‘This is our daughter, Adhar.’ He then turned to the others. Rufus was wrapped around Brei’s leg. ‘That is our son, Rufus. And you remember Brei.’
Aquila’s expression was hard as she looked Brei up and down, but when her gaze fell to the boy, it softened a little. ‘Of course.’
Nerva looked around, feeling as though his mother was reaching her limit so far as polite conversation was concerned. He did not want the children to be around when she turned. ‘Well, we just wanted to see you on our way through.’
Aquila’s gaze snapped to him. ‘On your way through to where?’
Nerva cleared his throat. ‘We thought we might stay in Antium.’
‘Antium?’ Aquila struggled to maintain her composure. ‘Do not be foolish. This is your home. You will all stay here for as long as you please.’ She waved in Brei’s direction. ‘Come along. Refreshments will be served in the garden.’
Adhar wriggled free of Nerva’s arms and went to collect her brother, dragging him in the direction of the garden.
‘Slowly,’ Brei said.
Aquila followed them outside. ‘You are not to touch any of the plants,’ she called to their backs.
Nerva looked at his wife, who gave him a reassuring smile.
Aquila would never admit it, but Nerva could tell she enjoyed the company of the children during those weeks. She was always spending time with them, showing them things, and even had her new seamstress fit them for clothes. Brei did not object, as she knew Aquila was bonding with them the only way she knew how. As if Nerva needed more reasons to love her.