The Lion and the Lark (28 page)

     “You must go,” Lucia said anxiously.  “You have to be out of the fort before it gets light.”

     He pulled her close again.  “I don’t want to go,” he murmured, wondering how this slip of a girl had become so important to him, so quickly.

     She shoved him toward the door.

     “I’ll come to you myself, or I’ll send a message through my sister,” he said, walking backward.

     “Your sister?”

     “Bronwen, the wife of Tribune Leonatus.”

     “Oh, yes, of course.”  She still hadn’t absorbed who he really was, and what implications his true identity held for their future.

     He was standing still, looking at her.

     “Will you go?” she said insistently, handing him the helmet and the cloak.  She ran ahead of him and opened the door as he put them on, adjusting the helmet, which didn’t fit.

     “I’ll be back,” he said fervently, kissing her lips lightly as he brushed past her.

     Lucia watched him leave, then closed the door smartly and hurried back into her bed.

     Three days later Claudius entered the dining room where Bronwen was waiting for him and kissed her.  She could tell by his distracted air that something was bothering him.

     “What is it?” she asked, handing him a goblet of wine.

     “The detail sent south to clear the snow was massacred, every man dead.  And the tribune coming here to replace me was killed in another skirmish, near Lugdunum.”

     Bronwen stared at him blankly.  “It wasn’t the Iceni, Claudius.  It couldn’t be.”

     Claudius shrugged.  “Somebody’s moving against us.  It could be any of the lesser tribes who weren’t party to Borrus’ treaty.”

     “Why do you look like that?  What does it mean?”

     “It means we’re staying here.  Nobody’s traveling from the fort as long as the treaty’s been violated, and my replacement is dead.  I hope you like this house because we’ll be in it for a good while.”

     Bronwen turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face.

     They would not be gone when Brettix led the raid on Camulodunum.  Claudius would be present, an officer defending the fort and a prime target for Celtic retribution.

     She could not protect Claudius; the attack which had left him near death had taught her that.

     Bronwen knew her brother would not change his plans, not after waiting for months for the most opportune moment to strike.

     She set down the goblet she held, afraid that her trembling hand would spill it.

     She wished with all of her heart that she had never told Brettix what she knew.

 CHAPTER ten

     “Don’t be so arrogant,” Borrus said to his son sharply.  “You can’t strike at the fort without the Regni and the other tribes.  We don’t have enough men.”

     “With the Trinovantes we will,” Brettix said.

     “You can’t trust the Trinovantes,” Borrus said disgustedly.

     “They want the Romans gone as much as we do.”

     “They’ve been trading with the Romans since they landed here ten years ago!”  Borrus said.  “They’ve lined their pockets with Italian denarii and work voluntarily in the Roman homes as servants.”

     “That doesn’t mean their loyalties have changed,” Brettix said, thinking of Ariovistus.  “They sold us the weapons we used to fight the Romans last fall.”

     “So they’re whores who will deal with anybody,” Borrus replied, lifting his shoulders. “They’re making money on both sides and hope the conflict will continue indefinitely so they’ll become rich in the process.”

     “I want to talk to Bubista anyway,” Brettix said stubbornly, naming the king of the Trinovantes.

     Borrus looked at Parex, who had said nothing.  Then the king shook his head, climbing the ladder that led to the loft of his house and disappearing from sight.

     “Maybe he’s right,” Parex finally said.  “Maybe we should try to get the southern tribes together and forget the Trinovantes.”

     “I know something he doesn’t,” Brettix said quietly.

     “What?”

     “It was the Trinovantes who attacked the Romans clearing the snow in the southern pass and killed them all.”

     Parex stared at him, amazed.

     Brettix nodded.

     “So they’re with us?”

     Brettix shrugged.  “It was a gesture to get our attention, and it did.  I’m going to meet with Bubista and see what he wants in exchange for joining us in the raid on the fort.”

     “He’ll never bring his people over to our side.”

     “If he thinks the Romans will be driven out, he will.  He doesn’t want to be on the losing end, that’s why he directed his men to wipe out that detail.  He’s playing both sides, trying to judge who will come out on top.  What will happen to his tribe if the Romans pack up and go home?  His people will be left to get along with us again, and we have long memories.”

     “Do you really think there’s a chance they’ll abandon the garrison?” Parex said doubtfully.

     “It’s what I want Bubista to think,” Brettix said.  “And yes, there’s a chance.  They’re thinning the troops at Londinium to half, they may have plans for Camulodunum too.”  He smiled grimly.  “Perhaps Britain has not been as rewarding for them as they thought it would be.”

     “Why didn’t you tell your father about the Trinovantes killing the Roman detail?”

     “It wouldn’t have mattered, he hates Bubista.”

     “He does?”

     Brettix smiled.  “Bubista was a suitor for my mother’s hand twenty-five years ago, and my father has not forgotten.”

     Parex chuckled.  “So I guess we go to the conference without him.”

     “I’m sending messages out to everybody to attend a meeting at the Drunemeton three days from now.  We have to see who’ll stand with us and then set the date for the attack.”

     Parex took a sip from the cup before him and said, “What about the girl?”

     “Lucia?  I have to get her out of the fort before we strike.”

     “She’ll come with you?”

     “She said she would,” Brettix replied.

     “Do you plan on bringing her back here?”

     “Where else?”

     Parex said nothing.

     “What is it?  Do you think she won’t be safe?”

     “Maybe not, Brettix,” Parex said reluctantly.

     “Do you think I can’t protect her?”

     “Every moment of every day?  She’ll be hated, reviled.  How do you feel about the Romans, except for her?  And everyone else around here won’t be bedding her, Brettix, so they won’t have your special reasons for thinking well of her.”

     “Watch your mouth,” Brettix said tersely.

     “You know exactly what I mean.  You’ve done nothing but complain about your sister and her Roman paramour, and now you’re playing the same game.  And you’re even worse, you think you can bring the daughter of an imperial general to this village and set up house with her.  You’re dreaming, Brettix.”

     “People will feel differently when we’ve won significant concessions from the Romans.  If we are successful with this raid I think we’ll have them on the run.  And anyway, I can’t leave Lucia to the tender mercies of her father.  He’ll send her back to Rome and marry her off to some coot she hardly knows.”

     “Is that why you want to save her?”

     “It’s not just that.”

     Parex looked at him.

     “I want her,” Brettix said flatly.

     Parex sighed.  He had seen Brettix before when his friend had made up his mind.

     There was no talking to him.

     “Is she some fabulous beauty?” Parex asked curiously.

     Brettix smiled slightly. “No.  Not like Bronwen, an eye catcher.  She’s small and dark and sort of...boyish.”

     Parex raised his brows.  “Are you looking for a catamite?”

     Brettix threw his empty cup at him.

     “Well, what’s so special about her?” Parex said, laughing.

     “She takes on her father, for one thing, and that’s no mean feat.  And she is the toughest, most determined...listen to this.  When her father wanted to send her to Londinium to get her away from me she drank salt water and wood ash to make herself sick, so she’d be too ill to travel.”

     Parex inclined his head, impressed.

     “And when she wanted to learn horse jumping she kept at it until she was black and blue and ready to drop.  Even I told her to quit, but she wouldn’t listen to me.  I tell you, Parex, I’ve seen men running into battle with less courage.”

     Parex nodded.  “You’re in love, all right.” He paused.  “And so is your sister.  What are you going to do about her?”

     “I’m going to tell her the date of the raid once we decide upon it and then leave it to her to get out.”

     “That’s all?”

     “It’s wasted effort, anyway.  She won’t leave her tribune, Parex.  I know it.”

     “Are you sure she won’t tell him when we’re coming?”

     “No, she’s loyal to us but she’ll want to stay with him.”

     “You don’t think she’ll do anything to alert the Romans about the raid?” Parex said.

     Brettix shook his head.  “She loves Leonatus, not the Roman empire.  She won’t care what happens to the rest of them as long as she can save him.”

     “What if she can’t save him?”

     “Then she can’t.  She knew what the situation was when she agreed to marry him,” Brettix said flatly. 

     “She didn’t know she would fall in love with him,” Parex pointed out reasonably.

     “She knew even then that she had feelings for that man.”

     “What do you mean?” Parex demanded, surprised.

     “I was with her when she first saw him.  He made an impression, I can tell you that.”

     “What are you talking about, Brettix?  She met him on their wedding day!”

     “She SAW him when the Roman reinforcements first arrived.  She and I were watching from a bluff when the column paused to take a break just below us.  She got a good view of him on that day and I remember her reaction.”

     “Are you telling me that she knew her husband-to-be was this tribune? She fancied him and went through with the wedding for that reason?” Parex asked incredulously.

     “No.”  Brettix shook his head.  “Before the ceremony the name Leonatus meant nothing to her, she thought she would be marrying an older officer like Scipio.  But once she saw who the groom was she wanted to go through with it.  I saw her face and I know my sister.  She recognized him.”

     “Then she’s in a very hard place, isn’t she?” Parex said softly, sympathy in his tone.

     “We all are,” Brettix replied briskly.  “Now let’s get going on that meeting.  We’ll see Bubista first.  If he agrees to come the others will fall into line more easily.”

     Parex sat back in his chair and listened to Brettix talk, wondering how his friend would survive the multiple conflicts swirling around him.

     Claudius awoke in the middle of the night to a cold room.  He gently dislodged Bronwen, who was sleeping with her head on his shoulder, and rose from the bed, drawing the sheepskin over her again carefully.  She stirred slightly and sighed, then slipped back into slumber.

     Claudius pulled a fur lined tunic over his head and walked across the frigid floor to the fireplace.  The fire was dead; there was a thin film of ice forming on the jug of water standing on the hearth.

     He quickly built a new fire, feeding twigs to the feeble flame until it sprang up and then tending it until it was going well enough to add logs.  When it was blazing he held his hands out and warmed them, shivering and wishing for the hot breath of the Mediterranean sun.

     Would he ever return to Rome and feel it again?

     When he turned back to the bed Bronwen was sitting up, the coverlet clutched to her breasts, watching him.

     “The fire went out,” he said, sliding under the sheepskin and embracing her.

     “That’s not what woke me.  I missed you,” Bronwen said, pressing her face into his shoulder.

     “I think the temperature had something to do with it, too,” he replied, smiling.  “I usually wake up when it gets chilly and build the fire again, but this time I must have been sleeping very deeply.” He stroked her hair.  “You have that effect on me.”

     Bronwen lifted her head.  “You mean that I’m boring?”

      He grinned.  “I mean you satisfy me so thoroughly that I fall into an exhausted, dreamless, but refreshing slumber.”