Vulcan's Fury: The Dark Lands (4 page)

Paulus responded with a thoughtful nod. The
cursus honorum
was the sequence of offices that any young man who wanted to rise to a position of political influence had to navigate, beginning with ten years of mandatory service in the cavalry or on the staff of a general, typically a friend of the family. While some had privately grumbled about unfair influence, no one had publicly complained about him serving on the Emperor’s personal guard to fulfill this first requirement.

“And you, young lady,” Tiberius said to Valeria, “could benefit from a bit of travel, and for much the same reasons. As a woman, you might not have any opportunity to hold high office, but you know as well as I do that while a man may sit upon the throne or occupy a seat in the Senate, more than likely a woman played a key role in putting him there.” Women were still largely relegated to the duties of wife and mother, although the influence women could have over the actions of their husbands and lovers could not be underestimated.
 

Octavia gave her daughter a sly smile. “The woman puts him on the throne
and
keeps him there.”
 

Valeria began to shake her head, horrified by what she was hearing. “Oh, no. I will not be paraded around the provinces like some gilded statue! I would rather be locked in my chambers and die a maid!”

“Stop being so melodramatic,” Tiberius chided. “We have no intention of ‘parading’ you anywhere. You may find this difficult to believe, but your tyrannical parents do want you to enjoy yourself. But,” and he wagged a finger at her, “you will have an obligation to meet with the governors and senior functionaries in the provincial capitals through which you may pass. Like it or not, you are the daughter of Caesar, and doing these sorts of things is part of the price you must pay for the privileges you enjoy. You can’t simply go gallivanting around like that Greek merchant you spoke of earlier.”

She was about to argue when she remembered what Pelonius had said to her earlier about what it meant to live in a gilded cage, and the fight went out of her. “Yes, Father. I’ll be good.”

Beside her, Paulus snorted, and he and Tiberius exchanged a knowing look while Octavia simply gave her daughter a wicked grin.

“I’ll have Marcus make the arrangements,” Tiberius said. “All the men of your personal guard will be going, of course, and I leave it up to Marcus to decide if he wants to take more. I’m also going to send Pelonius along.” Valeria opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Just because you’re traveling doesn’t mean you can neglect your studies. And he’s been to every province in the Empire and speaks a dozen different tongues, so he can help you understand the local customs where those of Rome haven’t fully taken root, and act as interpreter where necessary.”

Valeria nodded, in truth deciding that Pelonius going along would be a good thing, despite having to endure the gentle tyranny of his lessons. While the old scribe was as merciless in his teaching as Marcus Tullius was with training his soldiers, she always enjoyed his company. Upon reflection, she couldn’t have imagined him
not
going. Who better to help her unravel the mysteries of whatever was happening in Aquitania?
 

“When would we leave, sir?” Paulus asked.

“How about tomorrow?”

Valeria’s eyes flew impossibly wide. “Tomorrow, Father? Really? So soon?”

Tiberius glanced at his wife, who nodded. “I don’t see any reason to delay this great expedition of yours,” he told her. To Paulus, he said, “After you leave here, and before your lesson with Pelonius, please inform Centurion Tullius that he is to make travel arrangements for the princess to Aquitania, leaving on the morrow.”

Paulus smiled. Despite his giving Valeria a hard time about it, he, too, was looking forward to the trip. “It will be done, sir!”

With a sudden stab of worry, Valeria looked over her shoulder at the huge mound of orange, black, and white fur that was now snoring loudly on the floor. “I can bring Hercules, too, can’t I?”

“Of course you can, dear,” Tiberius told her, favoring the sleeping hexatiger with a thoughtful gaze. “And wherever you go and whatever you do, promise me that you’ll never let him stray far from your side.”

***

After the two children, accompanied by a yawning Hercules, had departed to inform Tullius of their travel plans and then attend the day’s lesson with the waiting Pelonius, Tiberius leaned back in his chair and blew out a long breath. “That couldn’t have gone any better had we planned the entire affair. If either of them even suspected what was really happening, neither would want to leave.”

Octavia took her husband’s hand, her face a mask of worry. “Will they be in danger?”

“Of course, they will. They’ve been in danger every day of their lives since I accepted the rank of general, and more when I took the throne. But they’ll be far safer on the road where Tullius can use his soldier’s skills to best advantage than here in the capital where the children could be set upon by a mob from around a corner or an assassin in a crowd. I’m terrified every time they venture from the palace, and even when they are here I worry.”

“You’re sending more than just her personal guard, aren’t you?”

“Just as I told Valeria, that’s up to Tullius,” he told her. “A larger escort is not necessarily better. It slows them down, attracts far more attention, and nearly guarantees that one or more pairs of unfriendly eyes or a hidden dagger is in their ranks.” He frowned. “Tullius and I have done all in our power to guarantee that those in her personal retinue are loyal, but that being said, this is still Rome. Most men have a price, and many senators who would see my head on a platter have enough wealth to pay it.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry, my love. Tullius will keep the children safe.”
 

“And what of you, husband? What danger do you now face?”

Tiberius hesitated. He could not, and would not, lie to his wife. While he was more than adequately skilled in the necessary Roman political arts of concealing the truth and telling lies, his wife saw right through to his soul. There had been rare occasions when he had withheld information from her, but if she asked if he was doing so, he would tell her, and she knew him well enough that it must be for good reason. When she asked about the danger he faced, it went unspoken that it was danger that she shared in equal part. Their marriage, typical among the patrician families, had been arranged, but they had fallen in love the first time they had met, and their love had only grown stronger over the years. “After my discussion with Julius Livius earlier today about the tax issue, I give even odds that the Senate will move against me, and soon.”

“Oh, no,” Octavia whispered, putting her free hand to her mouth. “How could things have come to this over such a thing as taxes!”

He snorted. “You know perfectly well that it isn’t about taxes. It’s about accruing more wealth and, through that wealth, power. Many of those backing Livius have already suffered major financial setbacks since I began freeing slaves from Imperial service and hiring them as free men, and they stand to lose everything if the emancipation proposal ever gains enough support to be passed into law. The tax issue is real enough, but its true purpose is to drive a wedge between me and the emancipation supporters in the Senate, nearly all of whom are from provinces that are in great need of the improvements that Livius claims the tax would provide.”

“So,” she said, “he’s painting you as the villain, denying the taxes that would benefit their provinces, even though in truth they would get little or none of the funding because Livius and his cronies will pocket the money themselves.”

“Exactly.” His gaze met hers. “We are at a crossroads in the Empire’s history, perhaps as momentous in its own way as was the First Spring. We have no more lands to conquer, no one from whom we may extract wealth through plunder, nor new sources of cheap slaves, for that matter. The entire world from sea to sea, save for whatever may inhabit the Dark Lands, now lives under the rule of Rome. So now the Empire is turning inward, feeding upon itself. Some of our most ancient patrician families stand to lose some of their vast wealth if the changes I am putting forward go through. And as you know, more than one of my predecessors has lost his life for far less.” He leaned close to his wife, putting his forehead against hers. “I would beg you to go with Valeria,” he whispered. “I would be so much more at ease knowing you were away from this pit of vipers and under the protection of Tullius’s sword.”

“But you know better than to ask me, beloved husband,” she told him before she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, “for my fate is to be by your side, whatever may come.”

CHAPTER THREE

“It’s time, my darling.”
 

Valeria blinked her eyes open to find her mother looking down at her, face lit by the muted glow of a single candle. Other than that, the chambers were completely dark. Even the low flames that normally flickered in the sconces had been extinguished. Only the stars in the heavens glittered through the window, and she knew the stars well enough to know that sunrise was yet two hours off.

“I thought we were leaving in the afternoon?” Valeria was surprised, but not disappointed. She had spent the rest of the day after the lesson with Pelonius trying to decide what to take with her. Marcus Tullius had given her very strict instructions to “pack light.” She had spent hours trying to cram in scrolls, statues, drawing tablets, more scrolls, and a few armloads of clothes and jewelry into as little space as possible, which meant three large trunks instead of the seven that she would have liked to take.

Her mother smiled. “That is what everyone is to think.”
 

Sitting up, Valeria reached out and took her mother’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, my dear. But since this is the first time you’ve traveled on your own, Marcus is being extra careful. You know how he is. The carriage bearing your things and an escort will indeed leave this afternoon with the requisite fanfare, but you’ll already be well out of Rome.”

“So we’re just going to ride out in the dark?”

“Something like that.”

It was then that Valeria noticed that her constant companion was missing. “Where’s Hercules?”

“Pelonius fetched him a short time ago. Don’t worry, he’ll be with you the whole way except for here in the palace. And now, you’re going to have to don a disguise.” She held the candle out to reveal a complete set of armor on a stand beside Valeria’s bed.
 

Valeria’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Really?”

Octavia nodded. “Come, let me help you put it on.” Octavia had helped her husband don his armor countless times, and she quickly accomplished the same for her daughter in the light of the candle. “You’ll look just like any of the soldiers. And you’ll be taking your sword.” While it went completely against Roman custom, Tiberius had insisted that Valeria learn how to defend herself. Under the tutelage of Septimus, she was easily a match for a typical soldier and could fend off a gaggle of dagger-wielding senators. She was not as good as Paulus, who had also been taught by Septimus, but that was only because of his greater size and strength. To accommodate her slighter stature, Septimus had a special sword made that was smaller and lighter, that she could wield more easily. But the sword fit into a standard scabbard, so its outward appearance would not be noticed unless she drew it.

“There.” Octavia stepped back and checked her handiwork. From head to toe, her daughter was the likeness of a Roman soldier. Someone might recognize her face in the light of day, but not in the darkness. “You’re not as tall as most soldiers, but I’ve seen shorter.”

“What’s this?”

They turned at Tiberius’s voice to find him and Paulus standing at the entrance to Valeria’s chambers, their smiles floating like ghosts in the darkness.
 

“I come and find a soldier in my daughter’s room?” Tiberius went on with mock severity. “I’ll have his head! Or make him marry her.”

“The poor sod,” Paulus moaned, ignoring Valeria’s glare.

“Are you ready to go?” Tiberius asked in a more serious voice.

“I suppose,” Valeria told him. “And while this is all very exciting, it’s rather extreme, isn’t it?”

Tiberius put his hands on her armored shoulders and drew her close to plant a gentle kiss on her nose, which was about all he could reach with her helmet on.
 

“Father, please promise me there’s nothing wrong.” She looked at her mother. “I already asked that of mother, but she’s better than you at keeping the truth from me when she wants to.”

“She knows us all too well, my love,” Tiberius told his wife. Then, to Valeria, he said, “I promise. Just go along with Marcus’s little drama. Like I told you before, your protection is in his hands, and you know what an old hen he is when it comes to you. But there is no better soldier in all the Empire, so whatever he says to do is what shall be done. Understood?”

With a frown, not much liking his answer, she nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“Now, off with the both of you. Marcus is waiting. Enjoy yourselves and make sure you write us often.”

“And remember, my daughter,” Octavia warned in a serious voice, “you are playing the role of a soldier of Rome until Marcus tells you otherwise. Let no one be able to tell the difference.”

“Yes, Mother.”

With a kiss from Octavia, who Valeria could see even in the dim candle light was trying very hard not to cry, she and Paulus turned to leave.

Making their way to the palace stables, they found five groups of twenty soldiers each were standing by, the reins of their horses in hand.
 

Paulus led her to the first group, and she approached one of the stable hands, who handed her the reins to one of the palace cavalry horses. She had her own beloved horse, but it likely would have given away the game for her to take him on this silly charade.
 

Her mouth dropped open when a soldier moved up beside her. It was Marcus, but he wore the uniform and armor of an ordinary cavalryman, not a centurion. She began to say something, but he shook his head in quick, barely perceptible movements. On the far side of Paulus she caught sight of Septimus, who somehow held his head fairly still while his eyes seemed to be watching everything.