Jenni Fletcher - The Warrior's Bride Prize

‘It’s only the truth, sir.’ He’d pulled his shoulders back purposively. ‘My father’s dishonour is mine, too. It’s only right that I pay for it.’

‘You’ve already done more than enough. If it were up to me, you’d be a senior centurion by now. There’s not a finer soldier in the whole Roman army.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Which is why I’m trusting you to go and meet the woman. We need to do the right thing, but Scaevola is too reckless. Unless he finds another way to clear the debt then she’s his only way out of trouble, but I can’t trust him not to do something stupid. Meet her on the road, bring her here and then we’ll see if we can’t find a way to resolve this situation...’

So that was what he was doing there, Marius thought bitterly, marching his men through Carvetti territory—friendly territory, at least—in order to clear up another man’s mess. It had seemed an easy enough mission at first, but now his peace of mind was shattered and not simply because she was arguably the most desirable woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The worst of it was that she was clearly anxious, too, and with good reason. He wouldn’t wish a spiteful, mean-spirited youth like Scaevola on any woman, let alone her... The very thought brought him to a standstill.

‘We’ll stop here for a while.’ He raised a hand, bringing the column to a halt. ‘Tell the men to get something to eat.’

‘Already, sir?’ Pulex looked faintly surprised. ‘Shall I send out some scouts?’

‘No.’ He frowned at his own order. Usually that would be the first thing he’d do, but today his priorities seemed to have shifted. ‘Post sentries, but keep the men here as protection.’

‘Yes, sir.’

He waited for Pulex to walk away before turning his attention back to the carriage. Scaevola’s bride was already climbing down, accompanied by a girl of around fifteen with waist-length black hair, a winsome face and the expression of a startled deer—a slave or a maid most likely. Seconds later, another smaller figure followed them, a child with flaming red hair around a face that looked strikingly familiar, an almost identical miniature of the one he’d seen earlier. He felt a jolt of surprise, his feet moving before he’d even ordered them to.

Nerva hadn’t mentioned anything about a child.

‘Centurion?’ The woman regarded him steadily as he approached. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier distress, though there was a distinct wariness in her manner now.

‘Lady.’ He was irritated by how stern his voice sounded, but he needed an explanation at least.

‘This is my maidservant, Porcia...’ she gestured to the black-haired girl before placing her hands firmly on the child’s shoulders ‘...and this is my daughter, Julia.’

‘Daughter?’

‘Yes.’ Her gaze flickered slightly. ‘Is that a problem, Centurion?’

He didn’t answer for a few moments. Was it a problem? Not for him, but Scaevola was another matter. Was this something else the fool hadn’t bothered to tell Nerva or didn’t he know himself? Marius had the discomforting suspicion that it was more likely the latter. He wouldn’t be pleased, that much was certain... He was still considering what to say when he noticed the girl’s frightened expression.

‘It’s not a problem at all, lady.’ He crouched down, bringing his face level with the child’s. ‘I just wasn’t aware that we had such an important guest travelling with us. Pardon my neglect. Are you enjoying the journey?’

‘No.’ The girl pressed her cheek against her mother’s skirt. ‘It’s too long.’

‘It is.’ He nodded in agreement. ‘When I first came to Britannia I thought the road north would never end, but it’s a great honour to come here. Not many Romans ever get to see the great wall. Even our new Emperor hasn’t yet. You’re very lucky.’

The girl smiled shyly and then leaned forward, studying his face with a serious expression. ‘Are you my new father?’

‘Me?’ The words almost made him tumble backwards in surprise. Apparently both mother and daughter had a knack for asking difficult questions. ‘No, my name’s Marius.’

‘I’m Julia.’

‘That’s pretty. You know our new Empress has the same name. Should I call you Empress, too?’

She giggled and he inclined his head with a feeling of satisfaction. At least he’d made someone feel better. ‘But now you need to stretch your legs and eat. We have tack biscuits and dried bacon.’

‘Perhaps I can offer something else?’

The woman sounded different all of a sudden and he looked up, surprised to find that she was smiling as well. It made her look even more alluring and his sense of satisfaction increased tenfold.

‘We have olives and bread, baked fresh in Vindomora yesterday.’

‘That sounds delicious.’ He stood up to face her again. ‘I haven’t had olives for a month.’

‘Then we’d be happy to share, wouldn’t we, Julia?’

The girl nodded and skipped happily away, following the maidservant around the back of the carriage.

‘You have a good manner with children.’ The woman was still smiling at him. ‘Do you have many of your own?’

‘None.’ He stifled a bark of laughter at the very suggestion. ‘But I like children. They see the world in a different way to adults.’

‘Maybe in a better way.’ Her face clouded for a moment and then cleared again as Porcia and Julia came back with a basket, spreading a blanket over the ground beside them. ‘Will you join us?’

Marius threw a quick glance over his shoulder towards his legionaries. There would be comments later if he sat down to eat with a woman. Not in his hearing, perhaps, but it didn’t take long for gossip to spread round a camp. He wasn’t known for being sociable at the best of times, especially with women. But surely there was no harm in a short respite...

‘I won’t ask any more awkward questions, I promise.’

The obvious embarrassment in her voice decided him. Clearly she thought it was her earlier behaviour making him hesitate and he felt the strange need to reassure her.

‘Then I’d be glad to, lady.’

‘Livia.’ She sat down on the blanket, curling her legs up beside her and tucking her stola beneath. ‘Mother of the Empress Julia.’

‘Livia,’ he repeated. He liked the name, not to mention the way her tongue flicked to the front of her mouth as she pronounced it. ‘Then you may call me Marius.’

Her lips curved again and he crouched down on his haunches beside her. That seemed a reasonable compromise. He wasn’t sitting down, not exactly, and if anyone asked—not that anyone beside Pulex would dare—he could say that they’d simply been discussing the journey.

‘She seems like a good child.’ He gestured towards the girl, leaping and dancing around the moorland now like an animal newly released from a cage.

‘She is.’

‘How old?’

‘Four years last autumn.’

‘You’re a widow?’

‘As opposed to?’ Her smile vanished and he winced at his own tactlessness.

‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply anything else.’

She gave him a long look and then shrugged. ‘It’s all right. At my age I suppose I could just as easily have been divorced.’

He lifted an eyebrow at the words. A lady didn’t usually mention her age, let alone the possibility of divorce. The laws around marriage had been tightened considerably over recent years, so that a man could no longer readily divorce his wife unless he could prove adultery, but for some reason he didn’t want to think about that.

‘Have you been widowed long?’

‘Two months.’

‘Only two?’

He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. If Scaevola had arrived in Coria a month ago and the betrothal had been arranged before he’d left Lindum then it meant that her brother must have betrothed her within weeks of her husband’s death.