The Warrior's Bride Prize. Jenni Fletcher

The Warrior's Bride Prize - Jenni Fletcher


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the realisation that he wanted, very much, to see them. When she’d tugged her stola up around her calves he’d felt an almost overpowering urge to glance downwards. Besides, he’d been impressed by the fact that she hadn’t simply run away after her mistake. Embarrassed though she’d been, she’d stayed anyway, asking her questions about Scaevola with an air of quiet determination. Clearly she was no shy and retiring Roman maiden, even if he’d been unable to give her the answers she’d wanted. Even his attempt at consolation had failed. Damn it all, he knew how to address a whole cohort of soldiers, to send men into battle when necessary, but he’d been unable to offer comfort to one woman!

      He quickened the marching pace, muttering a series of increasingly vehement denunciations against Lucius Scaevola under his breath. He was the one who ought to have come to greet her—she was his bride, after all! Albeit an unwanted one, if the look on that good-for-nothing’s face as they’d passed on the steps of the Legate’s villa that morning had been anything to go by. Nerva himself had looked none too pleased either when Marius entered his office a few moments later, his usually phlegmatic expression tense and agitated, as if he’d just been arguing.

      ‘You summoned me, sir?’ Briefly, he’d wondered if he ought to have waited outside, but Nerva had beckoned him forward with a wave.

      ‘Ah, Marius, a man of sense at last! Come in, I need your help. That boy is taking years off my life.’

      ‘Whatever you need, sir.’

      ‘What I need is a drink.’ Nerva had poured two cupfuls of wine and then given him a shrewd look. ‘You’ll have gathered by now that Scaevola wasn’t posted here by accident. His father is an acquaintance in the Senate and he asked for a favour.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’ Marius had nodded discreetly. He’d already guessed as much. It wasn’t uncommon for rich sons to be made Tribunes in the army, doing a few years of military service before joining the Senate, though Nerva’s tone made it sound as if, in this case, it had been more of a punishment.

      ‘His father wanted Scaevola out of Rome and out of trouble for a while.’ Nerva had dropped into the chair behind his desk with a sigh. ‘Only trouble found him before he ever reached us, it seems. You might recall that he was late arriving? Well, it appears that he broke his journey in Lindum for a week or so, tallying up a considerable gambling debt in the local taverns. Fortunately for him, the entire debt was bought up by the tavern owner. Unfortunately for him, he still couldn’t pay.’

      ‘Surely Scaevola’s family can afford it, sir?’

      ‘I get the impression that his father thinks he’s already paid more than enough. I’ll send a message to Rome, but it won’t get there in time.’

      ‘In time for what, sir?’

      Nerva’s expression had darkened. ‘It would appear that the tavern owner is a cleverer man than our Lucius. He’s an important man in Lindum, too, one of its wealthiest citizens with political ambitions to boot. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s after a brother-in-law in the Senate.’

      ‘A brother-in-law?’

      ‘Quite.’ Nerva had tossed back the last of his wine with a flourish. ‘The tavern owner offered his sister as a bride in exchange for discharge of the debt and Scaevola agreed, though needless to say he’s not happy about it. In any case, the woman’s on her way here now. A messenger arrived last night. She ought to be arriving today.’

      ‘But Scaevola arrived a month ago. Why didn’t he mention it before?’

      ‘Doubtless he thought that out of sight was out of mind, but if you’re asking me to explain what goes on in his head then I can’t. He’s a disgrace to the army and to Rome. It’s absurd that a man like that can be a tribune while you—’ Nerva had stopped mid-sentence. ‘Forgive me, Marius, that was tactless of me.’

      ‘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?’


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