Robert Fabbri: False God of Rome

‘Yes, and he should have been back five days ago,’ Flavia added, quivering her bottom lip.

Vespasian bit his, trying to banish thoughts of where that lip might go. ‘You should hope that he hasn’t made contact with them.’

Flavia looked at him in alarm. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Because they’re notorious slavers; they take whomever they can find and sell them, hundreds of miles away in the south, to the Garamantes, who apparently have massive irrigation works that enable them to grow crops down there; it’s very labour intensive.’

Flavia burst into fresh tears.

Vespasian fought to resist the urge to comfort her, knowing that once he touched that body he would be lost. ‘I’m sorry, Flavia, but it’s the truth. He was absolutely mad to go out there. How many men did he have with him?’

‘I don’t know for sure, at least ten, I think.’

‘Ten? That’s preposterous; there are thousands of Marmaridae. Let’s pray that he hasn’t found them and that his water hasn’t run out yet; how much did he take?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, if he doesn’t turn up in a couple of days then I’m afraid you’ll have to fear the worst. If he’s gone southeast then the first place that he can get water — if he hasn’t taken a local guide to show him where the wells are hidden — is the oasis at Siwa just before the Egyptian border; that’s over three hundred miles away and can take between ten and twenty days to get to, depending on the conditions.’

‘Then you’ll have to go and find him.’

‘Find him? Do you have any idea how big an area we’re talking about and how many men I’d have to take just to ensure that we’d get back?’

‘I don’t care,’ Flavia snapped. ‘He’s a freeborn Roman citizen and it’s your duty to protect him from slavery.’

‘Then he should have asked me for an escort before he went off on that idiotic trip,’ Vespasian retorted, aroused even further by the spirit that she was showing. ‘For a reasonable price I could have provided him with some cavalry.’

‘Then provide him with the cavalry now instead,’ Flavia insisted, rising to her feet. ‘I’m sure that he will prove generous when you find him.’

‘And what if I refuse?’

‘Then, Titus Flavius Vespasianus, kinsman or not, I will go to Rome and let it be known that you sat by and did nothing as a member of the equestrian order was abducted and sold into slavery. And I will furthermore allege that the reason that you did nothing was because you wanted to bed his woman.’ With that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

Vespasian watched her go appreciatively, drew a deep breath and exhaled, shaking his head; she was certainly right about one thing: he did want to bed her. But she could give him more than just pleasure and, as his heart continued to send the blood racing around his body, he knew that he would risk anything to possess her.

Reacting out of instinct, Vespasian punched his left arm up, catching the lightning-swift downward cut of a gladius on the guard of his pugio . Twisting the dagger left, he forced the sword aside and down as he thrust his gladius forward at belly height to feel it parried to the right by firmly held iron.

‘So we may get some lion hunting in after all,’ Magnus said, pulling away from the embrace that the move had ended in. He was looking pleased for the first time since arriving in Cyrenaica; sweat glistened on his scarred torso.

‘I haven’t decided whether or not to go yet,’ Vespasian replied, taking the on-guard position: standing crouched, almost square-on, gladius low and forward with his pugio to one side and slightly withdrawn.

They were exercising next to a pomegranate tree in the courtyard garden at the heart of the Governor’s Residence, taking advantage of the cool of twilight. A couple of slaves worked their way around the colonnade lighting torches; the smoke that billowed off the freshly lit pitch-soaked rags contrasted sharply with the clean, fresh smell of the recently watered garden.

Magnus feinted to the right and then brought his gladius back-handed slicing towards Vespasian’s neck; parrying it with his pugio, Vespasian launched a series of criss-crossing strokes, forcing Magnus ever back as he struggled to counter them. Sensing victory he lunged for Magnus’ throat; Magnus ducked under the stroke and, thrusting his sword down onto Vespasian’s dagger, blocking it, he pushed his right shoulder up under Vespasian’s extended sword arm, knocking him off-balance while curling his right leg behind his opponent’s left, sending him crashing to the ground.

‘You were too anxious to win there, sir,’ Magnus said, pressing the blunted tip of his practice sword against Vespasian’s throat.

‘My mind was on other things,’ he responded as he pushed away the weapon.

Magnus leant down to help him up. ‘Well, she spoilt your concentration. Anyway, if you don’t go she could make trouble for you back in Rome.’

Vespasian scoffed and brushed some dirt from his arm. ‘No, she couldn’t; everyone would understand why I did nothing. Who’s going to sympathise with an idiot who goes off into the desert with hardly any escort in search of a tribe of slavers?’

Magnus looked disappointed. ‘So you ain’t going to go?’

Vespasian walked over to the pomegranate tree and sat down on the bench beneath it. ‘I didn’t say that; I just said that I wouldn’t go just because Flavia was threatening me. If I go it’ll be for different reasons.’

‘Because it might be fun?’

‘Did you see her?’ Vespasian asked, ignoring the question. He picked a jug up from the table and poured two cups of wine.

Magnus joined him on the bench taking a proffered cup. ‘Yes, briefly; she looked expensive.’

‘That’s true, but it was a good look: pure woman. And she showed spirit and loyalty; imagine what sort of sons a feisty woman like that would bear.’

Magnus looked at his friend, astonished. ‘You’re not serious, are you? What about Caenis?’

The words of love in Caenis’ letter flashed though Vespasian’s mind and he shook his head regretfully. ‘As much as I’d want to, I could no more have children with Caenis than I could do with you. You because, no matter how hard and often I tried, you’d be barren; and Caenis because the children wouldn’t be recognised as citizens, being the product of an illegal union between a senator and a freedwoman.’

‘Yes, I suppose so; I’d never really thought about it like that before,’ Magnus said nodding and quaffing his drink. ‘So you’ll have to look elsewhere for your brood-mare?’

‘And Flavia seems to be perfect and to cap it all she’s a Flavian.’

‘What difference does that make?’

‘It means that her dowry will be staying within the clan and therefore her father is likely to make a larger settlement on her.’

‘Well, you’ll need it if you’re going to keep her in all that finery; she ain’t going to be cheap. So I suppose it’s pointless going to try and rescue her lover; much better to let him disappear out of the way.’

‘On the contrary, I’m going to take four turmae of cavalry and go and find him; if I don’t, then Flavia will never consider marrying me because she’s a loyal woman.’

‘If you don’t find him that will be fine, but if you bring him back then she’ll stay with him.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Vespasian grinned slyly at his friend. ‘If I do find him, I’ll give him the option of staying out in the desert and not having to pay the costs for his own rescue or returning with us to civilisation and a large invoice.’

‘What? The cost of keeping the cavalry supplied for however long it takes us to find him?’