Chapter 1
The long line of soldiers gathering into the column watched three blue-black ravens burst from the distant tree line and race across the dismantled marching camp. After finding the bodies of the slaver Baxtius and his men mutilated on the side of the road and all the Iceni prisoners gone, Julius wondered, was this a warning from the gods.
The morning omens cited by the acting priest—him—had been good. The damn roosters ate the grain….all of it, he reminded himself yet again. Every grain and the centurions had agreed.
Julius Agricola swung up on the bay stallion and settled in the saddle, pulling his red cape from beneath him. Could it have anything to do with the Iceni women screaming curses as the men had raped them? That had been much earlier, before the slaver had taken the Iceni away to sell them in Londinium, before Catus Decanius left to rejoin with the Ninth legion, and leaving him to take the wagons full of Iceni plunder to Camulodunum.
Julius turned the stallion around so he could see the restless soldiers muttering about things as how high the ravens flew or the caws…were they distress or joy. It had been a silent swift flight. So, should they keep to the plan?
Felix had assured him that the road was not as well used, but they would be in Camulodunum in less time. The first scout reported earlier that morning that all was clear, that nothing seemed unusual. The villages along the way appeared to be doing no more than preparing for spring planting.
Jupiter Optimus Maximus, protect us. He turned the stallion around and waved to Marcus Equitus, a new and now trusted friend. “Decurion, send a group to check on the scouts. I want a constant report.”
“Yes, Tribune.” Marcus answered as he turned his new black Iceni stallion to his mounted guard, motioning ten toward him.
The lethal force behind him appeared more like farmers than soldiers. Each man wore a long brown wool cape and carried a pack pole of his belonging over one shoulder. Hoods shoved back revealed heads of mostly short brown hair and every variety of face possible, young, old, scarred and fresh. Their helmets were hooked to the hidden armor. Each also had a leather-covered shield strapped across over his shoulder like market baggage. In an instant, all could change.
He scanned the supply wagons positioned in the middle of the two cohorts and saw Kianna riding on his personal wagon, her golden hair gleaming in the morning sunlight. Like both stallions, Kianna had been plucked from the Iceni plunder, but he had purchased her to protect her from the likes of Baxtius and his men. What had happened to Kianna’s tribe was insult enough.
The whole insane turmoil flashed before him again. Catus Decanius had disregarded Prasutagus’s will, had their queen Boudica whipped, and then, when her people resisted, the bastard ordered them all taken back to camp and allowed the men to beat and rape the women while their men watch…all except for Kianna. He’d had her taken to his tent…to protect her. As a new tribune assigned to protect the procurator’s ass, that was as much he could do.
He’d never intended to fall in love with her or her to feel the same.
He drew Kianna’s gold chain with brooch of the Iceni symbol of a racing horse that she had given it him the night before. “It’s for the man I choose to give my soul to and. I give it to you. As long as you wear this, my soul will be yours.” He would never take it off.
He dropped the charm back under his leather cuirass and breathed in a fresh breath of late May to clear his mind.
Julius saw Felix standing at the head of the column. “So, Centurio, you don’t want to ride?” he asked, grinning He already knew the short crusty soldier wouldn’t climb on the back of any horse even if Jupiter himself demanded it.
“I’d rather ride the boat with the Ferryman than be on one of those monsters,” Felix snarled. “Unpredictable bastards.”
Julius laughed and watched Marcus loping back from the departing riders. “Ready, Decurion?” Aerie pawed the ground with one hoof, ready to move as he was.
“As ever,” Marcus answered as he worked the stallion into line.
It was time to start. The weight of his gold helmet and long black crest felt heavy as did the leather cuirass and red cape as he cantered Aerie into the field near the first section of men and halted. “Are you ready to fight?” he yelled, demanding the traditional answer to the question asked three times before leaving any camp.
“We are ready!” echoed back in answer.
Relishing the sound, he loped toward the middle of the column and the three overloaded wagons tents, gear, and plunder. Kianna sat beside Essex on his wagon, her brilliant blue gaze sparkling with pride as he rode closer. A smile ignited his face as well as in his soul as he halted to a rearing halt. “Are you ready to fight?” he yelled
“We are ready!”
He loped toward the rear of the line and halted for the third and final time, knowing he had waited for such a moment. “Are you ready to fight?”
“We are ready!”
The thunderous answer echoed hot through his veins as he released Aerie in a full gallop and raced toward the front of the column, his guard galloping behind him. His cape tugged at the shoulders of his cuirass as his black crest whipped his back like a lash. He drew the stallion to sliding halt and nodded to Felix.
The short, middle-aged centurion motioned to the two trumpeters. Horns sounded, filling the brisk, rain-washed air with their clarion command. The first cohort’s standard lifted and leaned forward. On down the column, other standards echoed the signal and soldiers adjusted the pack poles and started forward.
He felt Kianna’s charm move against his skin. Not only had he spent far more than he should have for Kianna, he also knew he’d have to break the betrothal with Domitia’s family even though Domitia would be the perfect Roman wife . She came with a dowry large enough to see him into the senate and she was a gentle soul as well as very attractive. No man should refuse such an offer. However, none of that mattered now. His soul belonged to Kianna as much as he held hers. He’d write his mother and uncle a letter and explain once he was in Camulodunum.
“Why the new orders?” Marcus asked as he swatted a fly feasting on his arm.
"All I know is they were orders to Camulodunum, no explanation.” He shrugged as the fly decided to feast on him. He slapped at it and missed. “At least, we’re away from Catus.”
Marcus sneered. “You mean, you don’t like protecting Catus’s greedy little ass.”
“Little?” Julius laughed. “I’d say it’s bigger than most senators back in Rome.”
The obscene marching ditties reached the front of the column bringing smirks and grins on faces around him. Many were directed at him. Julius grinned. Along with the nuisance of flies seriously feasting on any available flesh, his only concerns were the looming rain clouds growing above thick tree line and hoping Kianna not understanding any of the men’s ditties.
***
A Roman scout broke from his group and loped closer to the trees, sniffing for something.“Do we take him?”Cyric whispered as he crouched behind a thick evergreen.
Calgacus shook his head, praying the burning embers in buried clay pots remained hot enough in the ground and that the men kept the oilcloths on the arrows dry and well hidden.
Finally, the scout returned to his group of six men and shrugged and everyone hidden in the underbrush breathed.
“Wait for the column and kill all the Romans you want,” he whispered. “Just start with the tribune and make sure you cover me until I get to Kianna.” Heads behind him nodded.
He glanced at the gathering clouds. Seric had assured everyone that it was going to rain after high sun and the boy was never wrong about weather. The brewing storm would provide the perfect cover to get Kianna away from the tribune who had raped her. Kianna was his and he wanted her back with her people.
