The Eagles Conquest

'Nice thought. But why should Flavia want to sell me?'

'I don't think she'd be wise to refuse me,' Vitellius replied quietly. 'Besides, I can present you to the Emperor at the banquet and ask that he makes you my reward for saving the Second Legion from Togodumnus. Vespasian could hardly refuse that. It'd look appallingly ungrateful. Just watch for my signal, and come straight to me.'

'You've got it all worked out, haven't you?' Lavinia replied, frowning.

'Oh yes.'

'And then?' Lavinia asked, eyes shining with hope.

'And then?' Vitellius held her hand to his mouth and kissed the soft skin. 'Then we can cause something of a scandal by getting married.'

'Married…' Lavinia whispered. She flung her arms round his neck and pulled him to her as tightly as possible. 'I love you! I love you so much I'd do anything for you. Anything!'

'Easy, I can hardly breathe!' Vitellius chuckled. 'All I ask of you is this small favour, and that you will consent to be my wife as soon as we can make it possible.'

'Oh yes!' Lavinia planted a kiss on his cheek and quickly pulled away.

'Now I must go.' She picked up the dagger.

'Here, wrap it in this.' Vitellius reached over the side of his bed and flicked his neckerchief over to her. 'Best that you keep it with you, well-hidden, until the banquet. It's the kind of thing some people might kill for.'

'It will be safe with me. I promise.'

'I know it will, my sweet. Now you must go.'

After Lavinia had left the tent, Vitellius stretched out on the bed with a smug expression of satisfaction. It had not been so very difficult to arrange after all. When the slave girl was presented to the Emperor at the banquet, the expressions on the faces of Vespasian and his wife would be priceless.

It was a shame that Lavinia could not be allowed to live. She was a most accomplished lover and showed a sophistication in the more esoteric arts of love well beyond her teenage years. She might have looked good on his arm back in Rome, a trophy to dangle in front of his peers, and a tool for buying favours. But in using her to get the dagger into the banqueting hall, Vitellius realised she would know enough to place him in danger. If his plan succeeded, she would realise at once that she had been used. As yet, he still did not know the identity of the assassin Caratacus had found for the job – thanks to that fool Nisus. Caratacus might yet get a message through to him, but if he did not, Vitellius could only hope that the killer would make himself known so that he could be given the dagger. Failing that, the knife would have to be presented as a gift after all. But one thing was certain, assassination or no assassination, Lavinia could not be permitted to know what she knew and live to tell the tale.

She must die as soon as she had served his purpose. He would be sorry to lose her but, Vitellius comforted himself, there would be other women.

Chapter Fifty-Two

The assembly ground was growing quiet now that the tail end of the procession had marched out of the camp and down the track towards Camulodunum. Distant cheering and the sound of trumpets still carried across the endless ridges of section tents. Flower petals and trampled garlands lay strewn across the hard-packed turf, and lifted in flurries as the wind gusted through the camp. Above, scattered grey clouds scudded across the sky and threatened rain.

A number of people were still milling around the assembly ground in small groups, Romans and townspeople alike. The latter had come to witness the start of the celebrations as Claudius formally saluted the achievement of his legions while they marched past, cohort after cohort, equipment and uniforms bright and clean after many hours of bullshine. Now the legions had been dismissed. The Emperor and the standards were marching in procession through the rough streets of Camulodunum, under the protection of the Praetorian Guard units. As their new masters passed by, the Britons lining the route watched with the sullen resentment of a conquered people.

Cato approached the assembly ground along the via Praetoria, having left his armour and weapons in his tent. Shortly before the Sixth Century had formed up for the parade he had received a message from Lavinia. She had asked him to meet her outside the headquarters tents after the procession had moved on into the town. The message had been short and terse, with no indication of what she wanted to say to him, nor any personal endearment.

He entered the assembly ground and made his way towards headquarters looking for her. He spotted her quickly, sitting alone on one of the wooden benches that had been erected on the turf bank raised between the tent and the assembly ground. She was not looking out for him, but seemed to be examining something cradled on her lap in the folds of her tunic. As Cato approached her from the side he saw the glint of red and gold before she was aware of him, and quickly bundled the object away in a scarlet neckerchief.

'Cato! There you are!' She spoke with a nervous edge to her voice. 'Come and sit down beside me.'

He slowly sat down, keeping a distance between them. She made no attempt to close the gap as she would have done at once not so very long ago. She remained silent for a moment, unwilling to meet his gaze. Eventually Cato could take it no more.

'Well, what did you want to say to me?'

Lavinia looked at him with a kindly expression that was perilously close to pity. 'I don't know quite how to say what I'm about to say, so please don't interrupt.'

Cato nodded, and swallowed nervously.

'I've been thinking a lot about us the last few days, about how far apart our worlds are. You're a soldier, and a good one according to my mistress. I'm just a house slave. Neither of us have particularly good prospects, and that means we'll never be able to spend much time together… You can see what I'm saying?'

'Oh yes! I'm dumped. Pretty way of putting it but the punchline's the same.'

'Cato! Don't take it like that.'

'How should I take it? Rationally? Put all my feelings aside and see how reasonable you're being?'

'Something like that,' Lavinia replied gently. 'It's better than getting worked up like this.'

'You think this is worked up?' Cato replied, face drained of blood as love, bitterness and rage surged through his heart. 'I might have guessed this is how it would end. I was warned about you. I should have listened, but you just used me. '

'I used you? I don't recall any complaints about the way I was treating you that night in Rutupiae. I fancied you, Cato. That's all. Everything else is just what you've read into the situation. Now we've both had our fun it's time to move on.'

'That's all? Are you quite certain? I mean, there's nothing else I should be told?'

'What are you talking about?' Lavinia looked at him warily.

'I don't really know,' Cato responded coldly. 'l just thought you might mention something about the new man in your life.'

'New man?'

'Sorry, I should have said the renewal of a relationship with the man in your life.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Really? I'd have thought your little sessions with Tribune Vitellius would have been more memorable than that. I'm sure he'd be most hurt to think that he could slip your mind so easily.' Cato clenched his fist, and to avoid the impulse to hit Lavinia he tucked it into his tunic, found Nisus' bandage and wound his hand tightly into its folds. He drew it out and stared at it dully. Lavinia glanced down nervously at the bandage, and recoiled slightly, shifting her position on the bench so that she created more space between them.

'Very well, Cato. Since you insist on being hurt I'll tell you everything.'