The Silver Eagle

And the haruspex had known what would happen to Bre

‘It may be my fate to go there,’ Tarquinius answered, moving to his side. ‘That remains to be seen.’

‘No man should die alone, facing insurmountable odds.’

Tarquinius thought of Olenus, and the ma

Unaware of the haruspex’ past, Romulus bridled at his instant response. ‘It would have been better for Bre

Romulus chewed a nail. How could he have forgotten the message that had burned so brightly in Bre

Tarquinius looked awkward for a moment, and then he put an arm around Romulus’ shoulders.

It was extremely rare for the haruspex to display such emotion and, sobbing like a boy, Romulus wept for what it meant. Tarquinius was grieving for their friend too. At last his tears dried, and he looked up.

Their eyes met. For long moments they stared at each other.

There was an ope

Remarkably, it was Tarquinius who looked away first. ‘I did know that Bre

‘Why didn’t you tell him?’

‘He did not want to know then, if at all,’ answered the haruspex, regarding him steadily. ‘You knew that too.’

Romulus flushed.

‘Advising you both to retreat with Longinus would have been interfering with your destiny,’ Tarquinius went on. ‘Would you have wanted me to do that?’

Romulus shook his head. Few things angered the gods more than trying to change the course of one’s life path.

‘And I was not the first to predict Bre

The memory of Romulus’ first real meeting with the big Gaul was still vivid. After killing a murmillo who was holding Bre

‘Apart from wanting the best for you, Bre

Romulus knew what Tarquinius would say next.

‘It was to regain his honour while saving his friends.’

‘As he had been prevented from doing before,’ Romulus finished. ‘With his wife and baby.’

‘And his uncle and cousin.’

A surge of faith filled him. ‘So the gods granted his final wish.’

‘That is what I believe.’

Both men sat for a while, honouring Bre

Below them, a fish jumped high in the air, catching a fly. There was a loud splash as it re-entered the water.

Romulus wrinkled his nose at the unpleasant smell which arose. Bizarrely, it reminded him of his former owner. The cruel merchant had bathed little. Abruptly he decided to test Tarquinius’ honesty. ‘What about Gemellus?’

The haruspex looked surprised. ‘His recent business ventures have not gone well. More than that I do not know.’

Satisfied and pleased with this simple response, Romulus ventured another question. ‘Are my mother and Fabiola still alive?’

This was his most deeply held hope, the burning ember of which he guarded like the font of life itself. For fear of the haruspex’ possible answer, Romulus had never dared mention it before.

Tarquinius’ expression changed, becoming sombre.

Romulus steeled himself.

‘Fabiola is,’ Tarquinius said at length. ‘I am certain of it.’

Joy filled him, and he gri

The haruspex shook his head once.

Romulus’ initial elation ebbed away, to be replaced by sadness. His mother’s death was not a complete surprise to him, however. While not particularly old at the time of his sale to the ludus, Velvi

‘Where is Fabiola now?’ Romulus nearly choked on his next words. ‘Still in the brothel?’

‘No.’

‘Where, then?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Tarquinius. ‘If I see more, you’ll be the first to know.’

Romulus sighed, wondering why, in his vision, Fabiola had been at the Forum. He would have to wait for the answer.

Overhead, the harsh keening of the gulls reminded them of their proximity to the sea: their possible route home. Romulus’ heart sang with previously unthinkable ideas.

The timbers beneath them creaked as heavy footsteps approached their position.

The haruspex’ eyes narrowed, and Romulus’ fingers crept towards the handle of his gladius. In this exotic port, they had no friends – only potential enemies. The gravelly voice that butted in was a rude reminder of this fact.

Romulus did not understand the words, but the angry tone conveyed the speaker’s meaning very well.

‘He wants to know what we’re doing on his dock,’ whispered Tarquinius.

‘His dock?’ hissed Romulus incredulously.

The haruspex raised his eyebrows and he had to stifle a smile.

A brute of a man was standing over them, his hands on his hips. Dressed in a plain loincloth, his deeply ta

Neither of the friends answered, but they both got to their feet. Facing the newcomer, they moved a couple of paces apart.

A sword with a deeply curved blade jutted from a wide belt around the man’s waist. Tiny brown discoloured pits in the iron revealed the newcomer was a sailor. Or a pirate. Only salt spray affected metal like that, thought Romulus. The fool didn’t know that oiling his weapon would prevent it from rusting. Or didn’t care.

Raising his hands in a peaceful gesture, Tarquinius spoke a few words.

The response was an angry growl.

‘I told him that we were merely resting,’ the haruspex said in an undertone.

‘That doesn’t seem to be enough,’ muttered Romulus, taking in the corsair’s body language.

‘No,’ Tarquinius replied archly. ‘He wants to fight.’

‘Tell him we don’t want trouble,’ said Romulus. Doubtless this brute had friends.