Avenger of Rome Read Free Page A

Crescens, junior tribune, on the way to join General Corbulo’s eastern forces, and may I venture to say that your fame precedes you.’
    Valerius studied him for any hint of mockery. He’d seen the pink-cheeked soldier dart a glance at his sleeve, where the walnut-carved fist replaced his right hand, the only visible scar of his encounter with Boudicca. The boy was what the legionaries called ‘frontier fodder’, one of the young officers Rome sent to the farthest points of her Empire to learn fast or die fast. Tiberius had the plump, earnest face and bright eyes of a teenager, but he must be past twenty and well connected to have been given such a prestigious assignment. Eventually, to the younger man’s relief, Valerius smiled acceptance of the compliment. ‘Then who is responsible for our good fortune?’
    His question was answered by a commotion on the far side of the harbour which alerted them to the arrival of a four-wheeled carriage escorted by a detachment of German auxiliary cavalry. The coach clattered over the cobbles and drew to a halt by the foremost gangplank.
    ‘About time,’ the
Golden Cygnet
’s master grumbled. ‘I’d have preferred to wait until the next grain convoy east, but my sailing orders were specific. The only consolation is that we’ll have a pair of galleys from the base at Misenum to keep us safe from any sea scum as far as Creta. The gods be thanked that she sent her baggage in advance. Still, we should make Neapolis by nightfall. Say a prayer to Poseidon and we’ll be in Seleucia Pieria in twelve days.’ He let out a roar. ‘Ready the sails!’
    The ship burst into life around them and Valerius watched as a slim figure in a blue veil dismounted from the coach and swept up the gangway accompanied by a pair of dark slave girls. The little procession was followed by another, older woman, and finally four of the cavalry escort relinquished their mounts and marched towards the ship. Tiberius Crescens laughed.
    ‘I almost forgot. I’m supposed to take command of her guard.’ He rushed for the top of the gangway, grinning over his shoulder. ‘The lady Domitia Longina Corbulo, the general’s daughter. It should certainly make the voyage interesting.’

III
    WITH A FAVOURABLE wind and light seas the
Cygnet
made good time on the first leg of her journey south, and as her captain had predicted she set anchor off Neapolis as dusk fell. There was just enough soft roseate light to show the bay in all its glory: the familiar sweeping curve of low grey cliff and white sand, washed by a gentle sea the colour of aged Niger wine. Above it, the rustic cloak of grey and green that garbed the great mountain which dominated the city shone gold in the dying embers of the day.
    Valerius was relieved that he’d seen little of his fellow passengers during the sedate, timeless run down the coast from Ostia. The guilt he felt over his unwanted mission was more than enough without being confronted by Corbulo’s daughter to remind him of it. He had spent his time trying to discover some kind of escape, but without success. For the moment, all he could do was carry on and make his decision when the moment came.
    Makeshift accommodation had been created in the bow for Domitia and her women, and they’d stayed there all day, behind screens, amid rumours that the lady and her entourage were stricken by the usual first-time sailor’s malady. Seasickness had never bothered Valerius and the same was obviously true for Tiberius Crescens, who had divided his time between his duties as guard commander and badgering his superior for stories of the British war. Valerius had told the tale a thousand times and had perfected a version that played down his own part in the defence of Colonia and gave credit to the real heroes: men like Falco, veteran centurion of the Twentieth legion and commander of the Colonia militia; brave Lunaris, who had stood at his side through the dark days of the temple; and the