The Governor's Man by Jacquie Rogers (best beach reads TXT) 📕

the army pancratium competitions. The man who had beaten him too many times after he’d got drunk. Who nevertheless believed in him, and encouraged Tiro to keep pushing till he reached optio status. The man who had been like a father, harsh but fair, and who had looked away with disappointed eyes when Tiro was disgraced and thrown out of the cohort.

Here was his hero, Felix Antonius, third in command of the venerable Augusta, marching immediately in front of the usurper Gaius Trebonius.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Julia lingered at the back of the basilica colonnade. Having Sisters nearby should feel more comforting than it did. She had explained the plan to the Corinium Sisterhood, who had whole-heartedly endorsed it. Their interests were in saving their town, and so were hers, along with saving the people she loved. But their success so far in persuading the legion they were among friends was not enough to stop her heart thumping under her breastbone. She told herself there would be another day. And at least Aurelia was safe at home. The thudding inside her chest continued, and she began to feel light-headed. Maybe today would be all there was, for her and Quintus. For all of them.

Pay attention, Julia! she told herself fiercely. The Lady Minerva despises the feeble of spirit. She forced her back straight and head upright, watching carefully now as the Second Augusta turned out of the high street and swept through the colonnade into the large forum square. The soldiers turned on command and lined up in their centuries to face their senior officers. It was an impressive and quelling sight. Tiro was near her, and as the tribunes and the camp prefect of the Augusta dismounted to await their commander, she sensed him stiffen. He was staring at the prefect, a man of obvious experience with a chest full of gallantry awards. A sudden cheer on cue from the Durotriges, masquerading as Dobunni volunteers, switched her attention back. Decurion Sorio and his primed friends were discreetly orchestrating the cheering. At his signal, the Durotriges began to chant: ‘Gaius Trebonius! The British Emperor! Gaius Trebonius! Our Governor for Emperor!’ Governor Gaius Trebonius stood with legs wide apart, arms raised, seeming to bask in the crowd’s loud approval. The soldiers in front called out too, and a few started to bang their javelins against their shields. The crash of the spears on wood was picked up and sent back in waves until it seemed every soldier was yelling in time, and every tribesman was calling, ‘Our British Emperor, Trebonius for Emperor!’ After a while Trebonius waved the noise down and moved forward to speak.

“Good people of Corinium Dubonnorum!’ They cheered again, long and loud.

‘Thank you for your warm welcome. Thank you for your support. Thank you for your loyalty.’

More cheering. Julia was proud of them. Amazing how two hundred or so Durotriges could sound like a whole nation. Trebonius clearly thought so. He took his time before starting his speech of sedition.

Julia had stopped listening. She signalled urgently to Tiro. He made his way to her side.

‘There, behind Trebonius, moving up from the street,’ she murmured. ‘Am I wrong, or is that Antoninus Labienus, back from the dead?’

Tiro looked puzzled.

‘Not sure. Better check.’ He left before she could stop him, slinking forward through the crowd of enraptured men like a fox in a hayfield. She watched him with her heart in her mouth, then looked again at the Labienus look-alike. This time she was almost sure she’d been mistaken. The man standing alongside the Governor was a stranger, wasn’t he? Still, there was something familiar about his height, his looks and the way he tossed his jade-green cloak back over his shoulder.

She was continuing to ponder, aware that Trebonius was still speaking, when her sleeve was tugged imperiously. Two young people stood behind her, one eager and impulsive, the other shy and anxious. Julia felt her stomach somersault. She motioned to Aurelia and Drusus Sorio to move with her out of the colonnade. She threaded her way as delicately as she could between her older white-robed Sisters. She wished she was invisible and was growing angrier every second. At last they were away from ears and eyes, and she grabbed them both by the shoulders and forced them to sit while she glared at them.

Drusus went white, pink, then white again, looking unhappy. Aurelia was her familiar nonchalant self.

‘Aunt Julia, I know you told me to stay at home, but wait till I tell you who we’ve seen.’

Julia opened her mouth to deliver an undertoned rebuke, then shut her mouth again. Too late for reprimands. Aurelia saw her chance.

‘It’s Lucius Claudius.’

‘Lucius?’

‘Yep. Right up there with the Governor - Emperor - thingie. That man whose taking over the Empire with a single legion. Ha!’

Julia opened her mouth again, in disbelief. Aurelia plunged on.

‘And who do you suppose is with him?’

Julia waited.

‘Go on, Drusus, you tell Julia.  It was you who worked it out.’

Drusus still looked miserable.

‘I’m very sorry, Lady Julia.  know I promised my father to keep Aurelia safe and hidden, but when Aurelia sneaked out of the house, I couldn’t not follow her, could I? I mean, someone had to stop her getting into trouble, and I thought…’

‘By the Goddess Minerva, Drusus, just spit it out. Tell me you’ve seen someone who looks like the man in the blue cloak, who died in the fight in Lindinis. Haven’t you?’

The boy’s unhappiness was replaced by chagrin. Julia felt sorry then. ‘All right. Good guessing,’ she said. ‘Tiro and I agree with you, and Tiro has gone to look closer. Now I want you to return immediately to your billet. It’s not safe here.’

Too late. Trumpets rang out, the brassy sound horribly loud in the enclosed forum. The Augusta was on the move again, marching