LITMIR.BIZ

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was going to be their last leave before sailing south again, and so Septimus had decided to visit his family home one last time. Atticus, a stranger in the city, had asked to accompany him and Septimus had quickly agreed.

      An hour after leaving the camp at Fiumicino, Atticus and Septimus arrived at the Capito home. As before, and aware that her son was visiting for perhaps the last time, Salonina sent a messenger for her daughter. Hadria arrived in time for the evening meal and the family sat down together, the probable finality of the occasion neither acknowledged nor discussed.

      The meal lasted three hours; however, when Salonina finally announced her intention to retire, Atticus was filled with disappointment at the shortness of the evening. Her husband Antoninus rose with her and both took their leave of the group before departing. The table before them was clear except for wine goblets and a half-filled amphora, the servants having cleared away all traces of the meal. Atticus, Hadria and Septimus sat in silence. Atticus leaned forward and picked up his wine, his smile returned by Hadria. He willed Septimus to go, to leave him and Hadria alone, although he was unsure what he would do if such an opportunity presented itself. The silence dragged on.

      Hadria felt lightheaded. The pleasure of the evening combined with the wine she had drunk filled her with an enormous sense of wellbeing and she smiled unabashedly. She had noticed Atticus look at her again during the evening, his gaze intense and searching. Hadria recalled her first impressions of Atticus weeks before, how handsome he was, his dark Grecian complexion made striking by his green eyes. She also remembered becoming acutely aware of Atticus’s sidelong glances at her that evening and the touch of his gaze had sent shivers down her spine. For days afterwards she had been plagued by guilt, her attraction to Atticus feeling like a betrayal of Valerius; but now – as before – she did not want the night to end, and so she waited, content to know that Atticus was near her.

      Septimus fought hard to suppress his growing disquiet at what he was witnessing, all the while wondering if he was misjudging the looks being exchanged between Atticus and his sister. His boyhood friend Valerius had been dead less than a year and, although his mother had said that Hadria’s heart was free, Septimus felt it was wrong for his friend and sister to share any feelings of attraction.

      ‘Atticus?’ Hadria asked, her voice finally breaking the silence. ‘Tell me about your ship. Why is she called the Aquila?’

      ‘She is named after the star constellation,’ Atticus answered, and began to describe the positions of the five major stars that formed the figure in the night sky. Hadria leaned in close to follow his every word.

      ‘Aquila was a faithful servant of Jupiter, the king of the gods,’ Atticus explained. ‘During the king’s war with the Titans on earth the eagle carried Jupiter’s lightning bolts from the heavens to strike the Titans. After the war was won, Jupiter immortalized Aquila in the stars as a reward for his loyalty.’

      Hadria noticed that Atticus spoke in hushed tones, his deep, sonorous voice giving passion to the ancient story, a passion that reflected his obvious bond to his ship.

      ‘Loyalty …’ Septimus said suddenly, breaking the spell around Hadria, ‘the cornerstone of any friendship. Wouldn’t you agree, Atticus?’

      ‘What?’ he said, looking over at Septimus, the centurion’s expression unreadable.

      Hadria was also unable to read Septimus’s face, but she knew the tone of his voice, knew its portent with the absolute certainty of a sibling. The underlying menace was undeniable. Her mind raced to understand its cause until she suddenly realized the reason for Septimus’s animosity. Valerius.

      ‘Septimus,’ Hadria said, cutting off her brother’s repetition of his question, ‘it’s late and I’m tired. Would you kindly escort me to my room?’

      The suddenness of the request and the sweetness of the tone in which it was made arrested Septimus’s comment. Hadria stood up and made to leave the room, her brother falling in beside her. She glanced over her shoulder at Atticus who looked confused by the sudden turn of events.

      ‘Goodnight, Atticus,’ she said, trying to make her voice sound dispassionate.

      ‘Goodnight, Hadria. Goodnight, Septimus.’

      The centurion did not return the platitude and the brother and sister left the room.

      The abrupt end to the night and Hadria’s hasty departure had caught Atticus off guard. He had been acutely disappointed when Septimus had not left after the meal, but he had still held out hope that he would be able to engineer a moment alone with Hadria. Despite his frustration he smiled to himself. Perhaps there would be another chance.

      Hadria turned at her door to say goodnight to her brother. He still looked slightly aggravated but she pretended not to notice and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The intimate gesture returned a slight smile to his face.

      ‘Goodnight, Septimus,’ she said.

      ‘Hadria?’ Septimus said, catching his sister lightly by the forearm, arresting her departure. ‘Do you no longer mourn for Valerius?’

      Hadria sighed, her expression kind, sensing the question had been on her brother’s mind.

      ‘I think about him every day, Septimus, but I have learned to live without him in my heart.’

      Septimus nodded, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance, his memory on the Battle of Agrigentum a year before, standing shoulder to shoulder with Valerius in the centre of the line as the final assault of the Carthaginian heavy infantry rushed towards them.

      ‘So you will marry again?’ he asked softly.

      ‘I have little choice, brother, but yes, I will marry again. I can only hope to someone worthy of Valerius’s memory.’

      Again Septimus nodded, this time his eyes looking to Hadria’s.

      ‘And I hope you will never feel that pain of loss again,’ he replied, gently squeezing his sister’s forearm in affection. ‘Goodnight, Hadria,’ he smiled.

      Hadria returned his smile before closing her door. She stood in the darkness of her room, listening to the receding sound of her brother’s footsteps, remembering his parting words, sensing that his hope encompassed them both. It was only then that she recalled the lie she had just told her brother. There had been many days over the previous weeks that she had not thought of Valerius; she had thought only of another man, a man who had crept into her feelings and into her heart.

      ‘Well, where in Hades are they?’ Marcus cursed, his hand instinctively going for the hilt of his gladius as his eyes scanned the near-impenetrable line of trees.

      ‘I don’t know, Centurion. They followed a deer into that copse about ten minutes ago,’ Corin, the optio, replied, indicating the island of dense woodland at the top of the rise.

      ‘Just the two of them?’

      ‘Yes, Centurion. Legionaries Gratian and Nerva.’

      Marcus immediately pictured the two men in his mind.

      ‘I left strict standing orders that no group smaller than a contubernia was to detach from the maniple.’

      ‘Yes, Centurion,’ Corin replied, knowing that terse answers and complete agreement was always the safest option when addressing a superior officer, especially an officer with Marcus’s reputation for discipline.

      Marcus cursed again and walked forward towards the copse, his shield raised slightly to cover his flank. He searched the line of trees again, suppressing the urge to call out the men’s names. With the Roman encampment at Makella three miles behind him, his maniple was deep in enemy territory, and any overt betrayal of their position could be fatal.

      Marcus unconsciously flexed the muscles of his sword arm, the cramps becoming more frequent as his body reacted to the lack of salt in his system. The ration had been halted more than a week before and so now Marcus, like every other legionary of the Ninth, was experiencing the onset of salt deprivation. The movement of his arm relaxed the

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