The Warrior's Bride Prize

Eboracum—two months later

‘At last!’ Hermenia looked up from her weaving as Livia traipsed wearily into the small tablinium of their borrowed villa. ‘I was starting to worry about you. You’ve been gone for hours.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She kissed Julia first and then dropped down on to a couch, rubbing her eyes with exhaustion. ‘I meant to send word, but we were almost overwhelmed in the hospital this morning. Some more carts arrived and the surgeon needed help.’

‘You’re working too hard. You need some sleep, too.’

‘I’m all right.’ She leaned back against the cushions. ‘At least I’m healthy, which is more than can be said for some of those poor legionaries.’

‘Any news?’

‘No.’ She shook her head despondently. They’d received word that Cilurnum had been overrun by the rebels the month before, but there had been nothing specific about Marius. None of the wounded who’d come back from the wall had been able to tell her anything about him either.

‘Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.’ Hermenia’s tone was reassuring.

‘No, I suppose not.’

‘At least the rest of the garrison should have arrived at the frontier by now. That will put an end to the rebellion once and for all, you’ll see. The fighting will be over in no time.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Try not to worry.’ Hermenia reached out a hand sympathetically. ‘Nerva always said that Marius was one of the best soldiers he ever knew.’

Livia took the proffered hand with a heavy heart. Hermenia’s confident tone sounded all too familiar, although it was reassuring to know that reinforcements had arrived at last. The last remaining units of the British garrison had marched through the city a month before, their shining armour a stark contrast to the battered and beaten-looking men coming back from the frontier.

But how could she not worry when Marius might still be fighting for his life? If he was even still alive at all! No matter how things had ended between them, with him lifting her on to a horse and practically pushing the animal out through the fortress gates, she still cared about him. Even if the bond between them was broken—his side of it anyway. Her side was damaged, but just as strong as ever. She had a feeling that it always would be. No matter what he’d said or how much she resented him for it, she couldn’t help but worry about him. She resented that, too.

‘It’s the lot of a soldier’s wife, I’m afraid, waiting for news.’

‘I know.’ She smiled at the older woman gratefully. ‘And I know that you would never have left Coria if it hadn’t been for Julia. I can never thank you enough for taking care of us.’

‘There’s no need. I had to make sure you found somewhere decent to stay here. There are some advantages to being the Legate’s wife, after all. I’ll stay until Marius comes to reclaim you.’

‘When will Marius come, Mama?’ Julia looked up from where she was sprawled on the floor beside Porcia, kicking her heels in the air.

‘I don’t know, love. Hopefully soon.’

Livia turned her face away, looking out into the courtyard beyond, trying to hide her expression. Julia asked about Marius every day, almost as if he were her real father, and every time she felt a stab of guilt, answering as if they really had a future together when in reality there was no hope for them. Even if he survived, there was none. Because she was a barbarian and he didn’t trust her—and because he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was either. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say it, to admit that her second marriage was over, not as acrimoniously as her first perhaps, but even more painfully. She hadn’t even told Hermenia.

At least she had a purpose here in the town, helping tend to the wounded in the hospital. She had a plan, too, for after the rebellion was over. She wasn’t going to go south again. She was going to stay in Eboracum and use the skills she’d learned from her mother to open her own kitchen and cook meals for soldiers in exchange for a few coins. It would be a way for her and Julia to be independent at last.

‘There’s a man here to see you, lady.’

‘Oh!’ She leapt to her feet at the servant’s words, so quickly that she almost lost her footing and stumbled forward.

‘Careful.’ Hermenia reached out to steady her. ‘There’s no need to fall into his arms.’

‘Marius...’ Her heart was already racing. Could it be him? And if it was, how ought she to greet him? She could hardly kiss him, not now. A polite embrace maybe, though perhaps even that was too much... She clutched at Hermenia’s sleeve, breathless with anticipation, her gaze turning towards the door at the sound of approaching footsteps...

‘Sister.’

Her hopes hit the floor with a jolt. It had been three months since she’d last seen Tarquinius, but he hadn’t changed at all. He still looked more like a bird of prey than a man, regarding her as if she were some stranger and not a blood relation, his pale eyes just as cruel and disapproving as ever. Only this time, she decided, she wasn’t going to be intimidated by him.

‘Hermenia.’ For the first time in her life, she held his gaze, lifting her chin up rather than bowing her head. ‘This is my half-brother, Tarquinius.’

‘My respects.’ His voice was an inexpressive monotone.

‘Perhaps I ought to leave the two of you alone?’ Hermenia looked at her enquiringly, but she shook her head.