Douglas Jackson: Enemy of Rome

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I will ensure he has the means, and more. It is the least I owe him.’ Valerius finished packing the bag and straightened, meeting her eyes for the first time. She realized that Serpentius was not the only one who had changed. ‘I will try to make sure that your property passes to Olivia,’ she continued, ‘and that the villa is rebuilt.’ She saw his bemusement. ‘It was burned. Deserters from one army or the other. She is safe, but a few of your people were killed.’

A bell tolled somewhere nearby.

‘I will …’

‘You should …’

Their words emerged simultaneously and faded in the same instant. She stepped forward into his arms and he held her, breathing in the fresh sweetness of her hair, trying to imprint every nuance of it on his memory. He felt dampness on his unshaven cheek and tasted salt on his lips. For a time it seemed neither could find the will to break the embrace, but eventually Domitia pushed herself away.

‘You must go.’ She turned away to the window.

He nodded. What else was there to say? He picked up the bag and walked to the doorway, hesitating as she spoke again. ‘He has pledged to leave you in peace, but he will send them after you.’

Them. Assassins: backstabbers and poisoners.

‘I will be ready for them.’

A soft current of air brushed the back of her neck.

‘Valerius …’ She turned back, not ready to let him go despite her entreaty. But where he’d stood was only darkness.