honor is your own, and your reputation is his honor. Obey, respect, and stay loyal. You are of the House of Valens! Never forget that, even on the farthest frontier…
Dutifully, Valeria wrote back of her own health and good spirits, but what more could she say? She'd yet to see her husband, let alone marry him! Valeria had been trying to live up to Roman ideals for as long as she could remember, and she didn't need reminders now. Savia was nag enough. She felt already married to stuffy tradition, a thousand-year stale crust of history, famed battles, proverbs, cautionary fables, and overlapping religions endlessly repeated, in the most tedious ways, to instruct citizens how they should behave. Rome worshiped its own past. Would her husband too lecture her on Roman virtues? And would she in turn torment her own children?
Probably. But right now she didn't want rectitude. She wanted strong arms.
Galba met briefly with Duke Fullofaudes, conferring on the administration and mission of the Petriana cavalry and receiving dispatches for delivery to the fort. He emerged and announced to Valeria and Clodius a change in plan.
"We're going to have to add a couple days to our journey. We have to go to Uxelodunum, at the western end of the Wall."
Valeria protested. "But I've been traveling for more than a month!"
"Remounts have been imported from Hibernia. The duke wants me to collect them for the Petriana."
"I thought our mission was to deliver Valeria," Clodius objected.
"So it is. But with new horses, as well."
"I don't agree with this detour."
"I don't care if you do."
"I'm a tribune too, Galba."
"In name. Not yet in deed."
"My duty is to the bride of our commander!"
"And her duty is to come with me."
Clodius brooded and grumbled as they continued northward and now westward, their pace always set by the trundling cart. "He should take us to the fort first and then go get his damned horses."
"What choice do we have?" Valeria responded. "Wasn't this an order?"
"An order we neither heard nor read. An order that contradicts the one sent by your future husband. An order that fits Galba's needs more than your own."
"But how does this detour suit him, Clodius?"
"He's a border man! Bribery and graft. It's the same the empire over. Are we going to Uxelodunum simply to get horses?"
"How suspicious you are!"
"And why not? He takes over my mission to escort you, makes himself your rescuer, and drags you with him to get his remounts." Clodius leaned closer. "The other night I caught him sneaking out to confer with some ruffian or tramp."
"Sneaking out?"
"I went to relieve myself and heard Galba's graveled gargle. He was talking to some hooded Celt, and when I challenged them, the man slipped away. Brassidias was all bluster, claiming he was getting intelligence from one of the Areani, a spy from the north. They sell information for money."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Why not inform me? Teach me? Include me?"
She looked to Galba, riding a hundred paces ahead. "He does things alone."
"So why plague us with his dour presence in the first place? We were doing fine until he came along."
Here it was, Valeria thought: male rivalry, instinctive and ridiculous. Boys quarreling for meaningless status, and shedding blood for reasons forgotten an hour afterward. It was worse when women were involved. "Marcus sent him so we could become a partnership."
"Some partner. He treats us like children. We should leave his tedious expertise and go directly to your future husband." He looked at her again and then dropped back to ride, like Galba, alone.
As they made their way north, native villages began to thin and the countryside steeped into rolling, windswept hills. Grain and vegetable fields faded away and were replaced first by pasture and then by open moors and marshes. Lakes dotted the landscape so thickly that northern Britannia looked like a table set with pewter, vast clouds of ducks and geese winging in to rain upon the water
Dutifully, Valeria wrote back of her own health and good spirits, but what more could she say? She'd yet to see her husband, let alone marry him! Valeria had been trying to live up to Roman ideals for as long as she could remember, and she didn't need reminders now. Savia was nag enough. She felt already married to stuffy tradition, a thousand-year stale crust of history, famed battles, proverbs, cautionary fables, and overlapping religions endlessly repeated, in the most tedious ways, to instruct citizens how they should behave. Rome worshiped its own past. Would her husband too lecture her on Roman virtues? And would she in turn torment her own children?
Probably. But right now she didn't want rectitude. She wanted strong arms.
Galba met briefly with Duke Fullofaudes, conferring on the administration and mission of the Petriana cavalry and receiving dispatches for delivery to the fort. He emerged and announced to Valeria and Clodius a change in plan.
"We're going to have to add a couple days to our journey. We have to go to Uxelodunum, at the western end of the Wall."
Valeria protested. "But I've been traveling for more than a month!"
"Remounts have been imported from Hibernia. The duke wants me to collect them for the Petriana."
"I thought our mission was to deliver Valeria," Clodius objected.
"So it is. But with new horses, as well."
"I don't agree with this detour."
"I don't care if you do."
"I'm a tribune too, Galba."
"In name. Not yet in deed."
"My duty is to the bride of our commander!"
"And her duty is to come with me."
Clodius brooded and grumbled as they continued northward and now westward, their pace always set by the trundling cart. "He should take us to the fort first and then go get his damned horses."
"What choice do we have?" Valeria responded. "Wasn't this an order?"
"An order we neither heard nor read. An order that contradicts the one sent by your future husband. An order that fits Galba's needs more than your own."
"But how does this detour suit him, Clodius?"
"He's a border man! Bribery and graft. It's the same the empire over. Are we going to Uxelodunum simply to get horses?"
"How suspicious you are!"
"And why not? He takes over my mission to escort you, makes himself your rescuer, and drags you with him to get his remounts." Clodius leaned closer. "The other night I caught him sneaking out to confer with some ruffian or tramp."
"Sneaking out?"
"I went to relieve myself and heard Galba's graveled gargle. He was talking to some hooded Celt, and when I challenged them, the man slipped away. Brassidias was all bluster, claiming he was getting intelligence from one of the Areani, a spy from the north. They sell information for money."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Why not inform me? Teach me? Include me?"
She looked to Galba, riding a hundred paces ahead. "He does things alone."
"So why plague us with his dour presence in the first place? We were doing fine until he came along."
Here it was, Valeria thought: male rivalry, instinctive and ridiculous. Boys quarreling for meaningless status, and shedding blood for reasons forgotten an hour afterward. It was worse when women were involved. "Marcus sent him so we could become a partnership."
"Some partner. He treats us like children. We should leave his tedious expertise and go directly to your future husband." He looked at her again and then dropped back to ride, like Galba, alone.
As they made their way north, native villages began to thin and the countryside steeped into rolling, windswept hills. Grain and vegetable fields faded away and were replaced first by pasture and then by open moors and marshes. Lakes dotted the landscape so thickly that northern Britannia looked like a table set with pewter, vast clouds of ducks and geese winging in to rain upon the water
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