An air of nervousness and insecurity was around during the entire afternoon. Marcus Lucius didn’t agree to the plan until Julia asked him to trust her.

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House of the Tragic Poet, Pompeii

Marcus Lucius briefly flinched a bit, but long enough to raise suspicion. The old commander didn’t comment anything. It wasn’t necessary. Then, he added surprisingly:

-Julius didn’t tell me much about you.

Marcus Lucius was almost sure that the idea of pretending to be Maxentius was a complete flop. He was sure that the hint was a part of a series of checks to identify and confirm the real nature. Apparently, the puzzles of information that Cornelius had about Maxentius didn’t match.

-Everyone says it to me. – Marcus Lucius lied without batting an eye. – It’s the marriage, I guess.

Cornelius seemed to be relieved and somewhat happy about how the situation developed. Marcus Lucius judged that he was convincing enough. He couldn’t remember Maxentius at all. He saw a dead, bloody body dressed according the status of a noble, Roman man. There hadn’t been enough time to look at the details and then, Marcus Lucius was too injured. He had never spoken about Maxentius with Julia or Appius’s soldiers. It came to his mind only in the moment when Cornelius marked his hands. Marcus Lucius regretted that he didn’t take it into consideration. It could disturb the entire plan. After waiting a moment, Marcus Lucius had the feeling that Cornelius was all right. He couldn’t be sure about it, but his intuition that saved him from getting killed for years told him quietly to trust that Cornelius accepted the remark as being true.

Fortunately, the statement didn’t have any consequences. However, it was a bad sign and Marcus Lucius didn’t want to risk nothing else. With an unsettled look, he went through the main room of the house, a broad, stony lobby, and gazed at Octavian every now and then. They didn’t exchange a word, but they were both edgy.

Julia stepped into the room covered in a blanket and with question marks in her eyes.

-How did it go? – She asked and Octavian summarized the meeting with Cornelius.

She hardly remembered the uncle, who was in Britannia for years already. As far as she knew, Cornelius rather stayed in Londonium, where he could easily take a ship and travel to Rome anytime. Octavian explained to her that Maxentius was supposed to take the leadership in Eboracum and Cornelius was there only temporary. The last tribune in Eboracum was killed in fights with local warriors. Generally, it was a safe area, but every now and then, some dangerous groups from North Britannia attacked Southern Britannia. Eboracum and Deva were the last camps located at the farthest ends of the empire. They marked the border and were left at the mercy of the more or less peaceful attitude of Barbarians.

Julia shook her head, but nobody was able to understand what she really thought. As she heard the suggestion to prepare a dinner for her uncle, she stepped back two steps, as if her insecurity pushed her away from the place she stood in. She was more scared of her uncle coming into her house than the Barbarians that could attack any moment. Cornelius’s presence was more perceptible in that moment. However, she understood the solemnity. After a moment of consideration, she spoke quietly with a trembling voice:

-So, we’ll prepare the dinner. My uncle wasn’t present during the wedding, so he doesn’t know how Maxentius looked like.

-Still, his soldiers could recognize Marcus Lucius, because he looks similar to his father. Maximus spent many years in Britannia and it’s probable that one of Cornelius’s guards will find out about our masquerade.

Wearing a helmet in the lobby would raise too many questions. Additionally, nobody knew how to cover Marcus Lucius’s face. Bandages were allowed, but inconvenient. The creepiness of the situation couldn’t get worse in Julia’s eyes. She had to put her mask of political correctness on and behave properly.

-The only solution is having the dinner without Marcus Lucius. – Julia spoke aloud what nobody dared to say. – When he won’t be here, he won’t be recognized.

Octavian wasn’t convinced. Finally, Marcus Lucius was bandaged the same way he appeared at Cornelius’s. Octavian wasn’t sure whether the meeting was a good idea. Too many bad consequences could follow and Octavian wasn’t happy about it. He niggled:

-How do we explain it all to Cornelius?

-I simply say that the way up to here and today’s talk was too exhausting for my husband. It’s probable enough, isn’t it?

Marcus Lucius and Octavian kept silence. The first convinced man seemed to be Marcus Lucius.

-It is. If it won’t work, then we have to prepare an alternative plan. – Marcus Lucius said. – And don’t forget the wine. I send a slave to bring as much wine as possible. Cornelius’s glass should not get empty.

An air of nervousness and insecurity was around during the entire afternoon. Marcus Lucius didn’t agree to the plan until Julia asked him to trust her. He wasn’t sure whether she was right, but she insisted to follow her plan. Marcus Lucius was able to fight against the entire world, but he wasn’t able to start a fight with the girl. She had a strange kind of power that didn’t allow him to oppose her. He would stop her, if her arguments wouldn’t be powerful enough. Her short speech was logical and rational. There was no emotional issue. It was imposing.

-How good do you know your uncle? – He asked her.

-I don’t know him at all. I heard about him. My father told some stories, but nothing worth mentioning it. – She answered slowly and using all words with purpose.

She sounded strange as if she would be far, far away with her thoughts. Marcus Lucius didn’t intend to push her. She told him the truth and it was crucial. He left her alone. She didn’t notice it at first. As she brought up her father, she became nervous. She wasn’t sure what to think about him. She wanted to be sure that Julius had given her to Maxentius with good intentions and not knowing how awful man Maxentius was. Finally, it was her father, a person whom she used to trust and she used to look up to him as if he was a kind of god. His decision was confusing and Julia struggled internally.

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She tried to believe in Marcus Lucius’s good intentions, but she was too deeply hurt to be able to trust anyone. If the innocence is stolen once, it can’t be given back by anyone.

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Ancient Roman costume

During the ambush, she wished to be killed when she realised that there were chances to die quickly, easily. She could pretend to be the happy wife as she did during the last weeks. She had become a professional liar. With every day, that passed, it was easier to smile politely and to pretend being the proud Roman woman everyone wanted to see. Even if her internal state got worse with every further heartbeat, it didn’t influence her visibly. However, she started losing her internal colours. The process of fading out was already progressed so far that she didn’t care about staying alive anymore. Earlier, she didn’t want to die and every thought about death was scary. After half a year of a socially successful marriage, her heart was empty and doomed. The worst thing about it was that she didn’t care. She wasn’t scared anymore. The whole world became irrelevant.

A kind of recovery happened in the moment, when Julia noticed Maxentius’s evanescent look in the eyes and the sliding walk to the other side of the life. It was a revival for Julia. The lesser life was in Maxentius’s body, the more power she got. As she saw his dead body, her whole plan changed into one big question mark. She was relieved when Appius ordered her to play the game, because she could pretend everything she wanted. She became the great simulator. She was adult and marked by life experience already.

While she took care of Marcus Lucius, she was satisfied and happy about his unconsciousness. She even liked the situations, when he didn’t recognize her or called her Decima. It was unimportant as long as she felt safe. She had started living on the reduced level compared to how vivid she used to be until her marriage. However, the amount of power and willingness to live after the ambush was incredibly high compared to the almost dashed off remains of resources she deployed as wife. She discovered a new goal in her life and she was happy as long as she could take care of the wounded man.

She didn’t notice when the situation changed rapidly. She was a victim of her phobia, again. As Marcus Lucius helped her stand the journey on the ship, she discovered that he actually cared about her. He didn’t hurt her, even when he had the chance. He was supportive, cautious, nice. She didn’t expect him to be this way. She was sure that all men were bastards without respect for beings weaker than themselves.

Analysing Marcus Lucius wasn’t easy. There were so many aspects that could influence his behaviour crucially. He could feel forced to stay straightforward, uncomplicated, truthful so that she was convinced about his good intentions. He could also respect her the way he treated his wife, because he loved Decima. Furthermore, he could act the way he did all his life, because he was that kind of person being really nice and supportive to others. Julia was occupied by the contingency analysis of how much all these possible aspects could have an effect on her situation. She tried to believe in Marcus Lucius’s good intentions, but she was too deeply hurt to be able to trust anyone. If the innocence is stolen once, it can’t be given back by anyone. It’s like a jug that fell on the floor and crushed into millions of pieces. Even by gluing all pieces together again, the jug will never be the same as before. Julia’s heart was overexerted and she wasn’t able to switch back to the safety modus anymore. A shadow of insecurity would always exist in her internal, emotional space until the day she would die. However, by noticing the good in Marcus Lucius, she took giant leap forward for herself.

She claimed the Song of Ilion in Greek telling the story of more than just few weeks in the final year of the Trojan war.

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Woman´s ilustrations of the different hat and hair styles of the Ancient Roman

One day, he was longer awake and perceived more of his surrounding than before. He saw a girl, maybe 18, maybe 20 years old, who immediately went away when she noticed his state of mind. When she was sure he fell unconscious again, she washed his wounds very attentively, concentrated and tenderly. She used to quote Homer’s works as far as Marcus Lucius could notice. She claimed the Song of Ilion in Greek telling the story of more than just few weeks in the final year of the Trojan war.

“Take courage. State what your powers tell you.

By Apollo, whom Zeus loves, to whom you, Calchas,

pray in prophesy to the Danaans, I swear this—

while I live to look upon the light of day,

no Achaean will raise violent hands against you,

no, not even if you name Agamemnon,

who claims he’s by far the best Achaean.”

Her lips were moving slowly, barely noticeable. They were full and nicely pink. Her cheeks were faint and noble, but they showed she spent a lot of time outside. Her eyes weren’t watchful, rather concentrated on the pieces of Marcus Lucius’s body that she had to clean again. Her voice was pleasant and enjoyable. It worked like medicine. Her fond touch was desirable.

At first, Marcus Lucius hoped that she was his wife. They looked similarly. Decima had long, dark red, curly hair and sun-bathed skin, too. She wasn’t shy towards sun like the Roman noble ladies, who used to avoid any fresh air and sun rays. Decima liked to stay in the garden and meeting her best friend on one of the markets in Rome. She had a nice, slim, and curvy body and a wonderful, catching smile. The unknown girl was a little bit smaller, more daintily. Her fingers were longer and her look was sadder, but she showed a special kind of patience and power. Her moves were more insecure compared to Decima’s. His wife used to stroke him stronger, more confident. The unknown girl apparently didn’t have much experience with men.

-Who are you? – He asked finally.

She noticed his watchful eyes and her cheeks turned red immediately. She jumped away like a wild, timid animal. Her reserved attitude was shown in her body position, reaction and her eyes. At speed, she was many steps away from him and stared at him with an insecure look. Her breath was faster and her hands trembled. She was visibly nervous.

-Julia. I am the daughter of Julius Fabius. I was Maxentius’s wife. – She answered quickly, but proudly. Her hands still trembled.

As a person who was in love with Julia, he wished her to be happy. His own well-being was secondary matter.

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This is one of the oldest doors in ancient Rome, Italy

Marcus Lucius didn’t follow anyone for a longer while. He sat on his horse and contemplated about what Octavian had said. There was a kind of confusion within him that he didn’t know up to now. Normally, he would go with Octavian anyway, without thinking about a girl, he didn’t even know really. He was a dead man already, so he didn’t care about himself. He ignored the strange, unknown pain in his chest. It wasn’t any wound he had. It wasn’t any wound he could ever get from anyone.

When he ran out of the house this morning, in the last shadows of the night, all he could feel was the wish for revenge. His past forced him to look back in anger. He wanted to go back to Brigetio, find Quintus and kill him. It wasn’t his wish to kill Quintus in a slow way anymore. Just a simple deprivation of Quintus’s life would be enough, after Julia ignored his presence. She closed the imaginary doors and he needed to open an imaginary window to have an exit in sight. He felt incomplete for no reason. He doubted so many things that he almost freaked out completely. He wondered why all his strategy from the very beginning, was put into question. He loved Decima, but a question put itself into his mind: was it right to go away anyway? He wasn’t sure and this doubt was scary. He didn’t have a free mind and he wasn’t able to decide what to do. Once a doubt surfaced, it didn’t let allow peace of mind anymore. Doubts have a bad habit to sneak up slowly, continuously through the backdoors of subconsciousness. When the suburbia of rationality has already been affected, they conquer the parts of the brain responsible for feeling safe and sure about what a person was thinking. Suddenly, nothing has the same value anymore. The doubt asks your feeling of certainty “Is it sure what you convey?”, then “How sure are you anyway?” and “What makes you feel so sure about it?” follow. The strategy of doubt is to take apart every piece of a statement including its promises and its consequences. Then, putting every detail into question ensues. The cheeky and treacherous way of doubts had brought souls apart. The mills of God grind slowly. Constant dripping wears the stone. The march of doubt is unavoidable.

Marcus Lucius couldn’t fight back. Staying in the field, just a few yards away from the house in Britannia where Maxentius and Julia were supposed to live, he thought about the girl he shouldn’t have in mind. Up to now, he tried to ignore her presence and the slim chances of a further coexistence. It was obvious to him that there was no common future for them. He had his reasons and she had her reasons to keep on living a separate life. He had to take vengeance for Decima. She had to go back to Julius Fabius and probably, she would remarry. Everyone had obligations derived from his or her own past. Following the road of obligations was prescribed as a consequence of former actions.

After the short conversation with Octavian, Marcus Lucius thought about the circumstances of Julia’s marriage. The seed of doubt was already implanted. It was indeed strange that her father gave her – of all human beings – to Maxentius. Everybody knew that Maxentius wasn’t the best or even a good match. The members of the Fabii family usually picked potential husbands and wives carefully. They were the best example for using the strategy typical for families with both wealth and political standing, whose largely inherited money would follow both their sons and daughters. It was called consortium, what meant sharing of property, usually used in a technical sense, but also in the context of marriage. Both parties had to be willing and intend to marry, and both needed their fathers’ consent. If all other legal conditions were met, a marriage was arranged. The more prominent her family, the less it was likely that the girl would have much choice regarding age, appearance or character of her first husband.

Marcus Lucius knew it, but he cudgelled his brains with the question “Why Maxentius?” It appeared increasingly irrational to him to give up the strategy used for years, and the improbability of this fact, made him think about what Maxentius had to offer to buy into the Fabii family. It was impossible to find out the reasons without a better analysis, without more time. If Marcus Lucius came to Brigetio to kill Quintus, he would reveal at least two points: his existence and Maxentius’s death.

The moment of cheerfulness was over. The seriousness came back to the room.

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Sorrento, Italy

 

After a short talk, they disappeared into the woods and Marcus Lucius waited a while before he turned to Julia and politely but decisively ordered to ride back. She nodded automatically, without deliberating. Within seconds, he sat directly behind Julia on Hiberus. Hiberus stayed mostly calm since that stranger, who tried to steal him, was killed by Marcus Lucius. The spontaneous and strange meeting with the people from the woods didn’t impress the animal at all.

Then, Marcus Lucius clapped on the horse’s neck and they started riding back to Eboracum. The way seemed to be shorter than before. Julia felt the wind on her face and it wasn’t pleasant. It whipped her strongly and she had to cry. She felt that Marcus Lucius was tense but quiet. Hiberus was galloping so fast that the girl thought the animal was almost flying. It didn’t seem like the wished for flight on a Pegasus. She wanted to go back to Italy, where the air was warmer and people were friendlier.

As they returned, Marcus Lucius was still quiet and if Julia knew him better, she would have even described him as a bit nervous. He accompanied her quickly to her chamber and went out. Julia followed him secretly and saw how he shortly talked to Nerva. Nerva nodded hastily and seemed to be worried. Then, Nerva went to another part of the villa, apparently searching for Octavian, and Marcus Lucius turn around to come back to Julia.

When she saw this she quickly went back to the chamber. She didn’t want him to know that she followed him. She was fast: she ran like thunder to be in her room before Marcus Lucius. She didn’t mind the bruises she got while she hooked twice on columns. Hastily, but with a lucky smile, she landed on her bed with a rapidly moving chest. She was tired and tried to make an innocent impression when Marcus Lucius stepped into the room again.

-You need to rest. – She said.

He gave her a short look and noticed her excitement, but he didn’t comment on it. She was sure that she tricked him, so she smiled brighter, satisfied. He didn’t want to upset her right now. She needed a cheerful moment, during such hard days.

Instead of coming to her, Marcus Lucius stared at her and stayed like a sculpture for a longer while. Her smile vanished and he went to the heavy, wooden desk and sat down at the table next to the massive piece of furniture. The moment of cheerfulness was over. The seriousness came back to the room. He laid his arms on the desk’s surface and seemed to be completely absorbed in thoughts.

-I’ll bring you something to eat. – Julia suggested, but he didn’t react. There was something in his look that made her uneasy.

Actually, it wasn’t a task for a Roman lady to serve food, but she needed to go out and talk with Octavian. She had already a structure of a plan, but she needed to clear some details with herself.

She stopped trembling and started looking somewhere, where her eyes didn’t meet his. She had a runny nose for the first time. She didn’t like it at all.

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Ancient Greece, Athens, book sample, ebook sample, Julia Fabia, Mediterranean warmth, Nerva, Roman soldiers, The Acropolis

The Acropolis, Athens, Greece

Marcus Lucius waited patiently for her to move. She pressed her right side against the wooden, cold wall for some more minutes. She trembled, because it was chilly. She was used to Mediterranean warmth and she wasn’t comfortable with the bleak weather of Britannia. It was rainy and moist. She didn’t have proper dresses for such muggy places. Marcus Lucius attentively covered her with another blanket. She stopped trembling and started looking somewhere, where her eyes didn’t meet his. She had a runny nose for the first time. She didn’t like it at all.

Soon after the talk, Nerva appeared feeling insecure. Marcus Lucius assumed that Nerva and Octavian had already exchanged the latest news and instructions from Appius. Nerva looked indeed exhausted. He was wet from sweat and the dust of the road collected on his tanned skin. His short, completely black hair was wet, as well. He introduced himself, not sure whether Marcus Lucius remembered him. Nerva saluted, Marcus Lucius nodded with his head while sitting on the floor next to Julia. It wasn’t a proper behaviour to let your subordinate sleep in your bed. Nerva was totally surprised and unsure what was happening. It felt like in a trap, but Marcus Lucius gave him an impression of assurance. He didn’t treat Nerva as an inferior, but as a peer. It showed in the sound of Marcus Lucius’s voice as he said:

-You should wash yourself. When you come back here, tell Octavian, we’re ready to go.

Nerva nodded. Before he left the wagon, he gave Marcus Lucius and Julia their letters from Appius. Julia didn’t read her letter immediately. She held the paper cautiously, gently. She stared at it for a while. In the meanwhile, Marcus Lucius had scanned his message. It wasn’t long. Appius wasn’t a person using a lot of words. Then, Marcus Lucius kneaded the paper powerfully. Apparently, he didn’t have to read it twice to brand the information in his mind.

After a couple of minutes, Nerva re-appeared, with the same insecurity in his eyes, but without dust and sweat on his face. Julia didn’t notice his stunned, perplexed state of mind, because he stood straight and proudly like a typical soldier, who shows discipline and respect.

-Take two blankets from over there. – Marcus Lucius ordered while showing at a plain dresser in the room. – You are allowed to rest. Lie down and sleep.

Nerva thanked him without words, with a simple nod. He followed Marcus Lucius’s orders and the minute, he laid down, he immediately fell asleep. He snored loudly, blustering. In the silence of the room with limited light and space, Julia had to laugh about the sound of snoring. She tried to control herself, but she wasn’t able to hold back the quiet laughter. For the very first time Marcus Lucius heard her laugh. It was cheerful, simply pleasant. He had to laugh a little, too. It was a bit painful, but he wasn’t able to stop himself, either.

They sat next to each other on less comfortable pillows. Marcus Lucius wondered how she could sit here for so long without complaining. As a girl from a noble family, she used to stay in more comfortable places. He wondered why she never uttered a word of objection, even rudimentarily. Marcus Lucius was a soldier and familiar with very limited, basic conditions. He had spent some nights in the fields, without any linen, simply lying on the solid ground. Once, when he was wounded, he had spent some time on a wooden board without any comfort. He knew what discomfort felt like.

We know that your soldiers rested last months and are not prepared to fight. – The other elder spoke.

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Ancient Tattooing, book sample, Cunobarro, Cunobarros, ebook sample, Iron Age, Maximus, Pictish, Picts, speech of Cunobarros, Tattooing

Pictish – It was the Romans who gave the Picts their name. Tattooing was probably a common practice among several peoples of the Iron Age and earlier, and perhaps one continued by the Picts longer than by other peoples

-We are hunters. We don’t fight. We hunt.

-I understand. – Marcus Lucius added shortly.

The older man hawked and continued:

-They are known as men from Pictavia. They try to conquer southern and central parts of the island every now and then. We try to live our lives. We avoid the fights, but when we’re forced to fight, then we fight. Our fate is simple and predefined. We appreciate the support of everyone who follows the same goals.

Marcus Lucius nodded, but kept silence. The old man’s fingers trembled a bit.

-We know that your soldiers rested last months and are not prepared to fight. – The other elder spoke. He had snowy brows and white hair. His eyes glued. It wasn’t easy to understand his intentions.

-Attacks of the men from North are rather less probable in the time of winter. – The third elder spoke. He had eyes like coals and he seemed to be the youngest and burly. His statement could be analysed from different perspectives. Marcus Lucius couldn’t estimate the attitude of the speaker.

-I understand your worries. During the winter, we keep training our soldiers. You have my word for it. – Marcus Lucius promised. – We keep patrolling the surrounding and will protect you as far as we can, with every day even better.

The elders looked at each other. There was an unknown tension, not mentioned yet, and it hung in the air and bounded the local inhabitants with a touch of missing trust. It was their piece of information that didn’t suit to what was said in this meeting.

-If you are the son of your father, why don’t you use his name as yours? Why are you hiding behind a name of another man? – Cunobarros formed aloud the thought that occupied everyone here.

Marcus Lucius smiled brighter, but sadder.

-That is right what you say. I am hiding behind a name of another man. You remember my father and his friend. My father fell during a battle as a real warrior. His friend needs my support and therefore, I act under false name. However, my promise given to you is binding with the same power independent from the name I use. I give you my word for that.

Cunobarros nodded politely, but inconclusively.

-Give us time to confer. We will give you our answer soon.

Marcus Lucius nodded and stood up slowly.

-Fair enough. – He said and bowed out.

Nerva followed his example. The local villagers went to the side so that Marcus Lucius and Nerva could leave the building. Then, they took their horses and rid away. The late afternoon began and they were happy to come back to the villa before the darkness came. After the ride, they had to confer themselves.

-Give me a moment. – Marcus Lucius said and sent for Julia.

He was strictly confused as she couldn’t be found. The slaves acted nervously and Marcus Lucius didn’t like the kind of tension. He felt under his skin that something wasn’t right.

In the meanwhile, he took Nerva aside, but they didn’t start talking. Marcus Lucius looked to the slaves that ran from one room into next and couldn’t find Julia. His internal tension raised quickly, but his face expression didn’t change. He stood calmly and just his eyes betrayed his unease. He thought about his impression of the meeting. It was hard to estimate whether the locals were going to accept his offer and whether they would keep the secret for themselves. The first option seemed to be probable. The second one could be a premise for the first one. Marcus Lucius wasn’t sure what to think about reminding his father. Cunobarros remembered Maximus, but Marcus Lucius didn’t know the context of the memory. The problem was that Maximus negotiated in Britannia, but he was displaced later. It wouldn’t be supportive when the elders would be convinced that Marcus Lucius didn’t keep his word. It would reflect negatively on his attitude. He knew that he had to wait for the answer and he hated to wait. Patience wasn’t his strength. He ignored Nerva and his questions:

-What do you think? What shall we do? What do you plan?

Book sample: One of the elders, the smallest one, with white hair and long beard, with trembling fingers and wrinkles of wisdom, spoke aloud in his own dialect.

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barbarian tribes in northern Great Britain, book sample, Cunobarros, ebook sample, Hadrian's Wall, Head Hound, hunter, Picts, Roman Empire, Roman Fort Ruins on Hadrian's Wall, Roman man, Roman soldier, Roman soldiers, speech of Cunobarros

Roman Fort Ruins on Hadrian’s Wall- Housestead was one of many forts built along Hadrian’s wall to protect the Roman empire from barbarian tribes in northern Great Britain

One of the elders, the smallest one, with white hair and long beard, with trembling fingers and wrinkles of wisdom, spoke aloud in his own dialect. He welcomed the gesture of the Roman soldier and liked the openness towards the local villagers. Then, he spoke in Latin, because he noticed that Nerva didn’t follow, which made him a bit nervous. Indeed, Nerva made a stressful impression. Marcus Lucius was calm and smiled friendly. Everyone smiles in the same language and Marcus Lucius used the power of interhuman relationships.

-My Father hunted this forest before me and tilled the soil before me. My name is Cunobarros, Head Hound. I am a hunter. This is my land. And I will give my land to my sons, who will hunt here with their sons after I am gone. I am no soldier. I don’t fight with men. I hunt.

Nerva followed Marcus Lucius and bowed his thanks. He recognized the respect for the old man. Marcus Lucius didn’t break the speech of Cunobarros, so the elder continued:

-I remember one Roman man, who spoked with me years ago. He was accompanied by his best friend, as you do, and he spoke about peace, as you do.

Marcus Lucius trembled shortly, because he thought about his father.

-You know the man I am talking about, I see it in your eyes. – Cunobarros said. – You have it written on your face. Your face looks like his…

Nerva got scared. He didn’t know what to do. Marcus Lucius held him gently from getting up. Nerva kept his position and sat down again. Marcus Lucius bowed his head once again and started talking calmly:

-Your memory is right. It was my father. As my father, I wish to keep the season of peace as long as it is possible. I came here to say it to you directly, so that you know my face and my intentions. I came here to assure you that we can fight together against the men from North.

-We are hunters. We don’t fight. We hunt.

When the whole story will come to light, we all can be dead men. – Nerva replied, not even sadly, rather freely

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Appius’s legionnaires, Arnside, book sample, Cumbria, ebook sample, Fairy steps in Cumbria, falling in love, journey back to Aquincum, Marcus Lucius's willingness to help, Nerva, Octavian, Roman legionnaires, Sample from Vengeance and Remission, The Fairy Steps, The Fairy Steps in Arnside, when do you fall in love

The Fairy Steps, Arnside, Cumbria, UK. Legend has it that if you can walk up the Fairy Steps without touching the sides any wish will come true

-She’s married. She’s out of your league. – Nerva added again.

Octavian wasn’t happy to hear it. As a man of logic and discipline, he hated the rules he had to follow.

-She lost her husband. When the whole story will to light, she won’t be married. She will be free.

-When the whole story will come to light, we all can be dead men. – Nerva replied, not even sadly, rather freely. – If we’ll survive by any miracle, she will remarry someone from her social background. And, as you said, she hates you. Do what you have to do, but don’t get involved emotionally. Women are not worth it.

Octavian nodded sadly, with disappointment. Finally, he heard what he needed to hear: a voice of sanity.

On the journey back to Aquincum, Nerva thought about sharing his worries with Appius. It wasn’t normal that Octavian was analysing his state of being single and it was a sign of him falling in love. It was a warning to Nerva. It was ridiculous. It was dangerous. It had to be discussed with Appius. In a clearly murky, gloomy situation, there was no place for further unknown or variables. Apparently, Appius had the same opinion, but he balanced between possibilities. Taking Octavian off the task could harm the dainty micro system that had been developed in the last days. Octavian had the best view at the local part of the entire situation. Appius was sure that Octavian wouldn’t purposely harm the mission in any way. Therefore, he decided to keep Octavian in Britannia for some more days. Then, Nerva should take his place. Nerva was reliable, too, but there was no risk of him falling in love to any woman. Additionally, Nerva was on the way for so many weeks and he had to rest. He wouldn’t dare to think about having a longer pause, so Appius had to arrange it for him.

Taking into consideration the mixed feelings of Octavian, knowing that Marcus Lucius simply calmed down the girl, and planning that Nerva could replace Octavian on site, Appius wrote some unusual sentences in the letter to Marcus Lucius. Marcus Lucius had to pretend being Maxentius, but he shouldn’t get involved or show his involvement for Julia to anyone. Octavian shouldn’t get affected by the situation too much, otherwise his emotions could influence the plan unwillingly. Above all, Julia was supposed to keep her integrity.

Marcus Lucius read the message after two weeks, because that was how long it took Nerva to reach the convoy on its way to Eboracum. Nerva was tired and needed a rest. As long as his distances were limited to a three-days’-rides, everything was fine. With the increasing distance, it was harder to stay trim and fit without having any pause. The convoy moved forward at a constant, normal speed. Nerva tried to deliver messages as fast as it was possible. His horses were extraordinary tired and he had to rest as well. Appius ordered two more soldiers to accompany Nerva on his way and to slow him down.

Octavian wasn’t sure how to make sure that his friend would catch a longer rest during the journey, so he appreciated Appius indirect way to influence Nerva’s stops. It was shortly after morning’s habits were finished. The convoy just started to move forward when Nerva appeared with two legionnaires by his site. Octavian stopped the journey for a short break. He went to Marcus Lucius, who was already conscious and whose wounds were healing better with every day.

-Nerva’s back. – Octavian reported shortly. He was out of breath from joy and his wrinkles showed his sorrows about his best friend.

Marcus Lucius understood the problem without any further explanation. Julia was sitting in her corner of the wagon and watched the conversation between the soldiers.

-Im feeling good enough to leave the bed. – Marcus Lucius suggested. From the time they left Londonium, he got better with every day. He wasn’t able to pretend to be unconscious anymore. Julia was happy for him, and she stepped back more and more. He wanted to leave the wagon and breathe the real, wet, foggy air of Britannia. After weeks spent in limited space, he needed the feeling of freedom.

-You won’t get a horse, you’re too weak for that. – Octavian replied and wondered about Marcus Lucius’s willingness to help a simple soldier. He was aware that Marcus Lucius was a tribune and could have been accustomed to giving orders without hearing any kind of veto.

-Then, I will sit here. Your messenger should rest in my bed. The escort should rest in another wagon.