But here I was, sweating and labouring at the Empire’s behest. There seemed no escaping the claws of her eagles.
‘Let’s go and see Titus,’ I suggested to Stumps as our task was completed, and we were relieved from duty for a few hours. ‘I need something good to eat, and he’s probably the one to have it.’
‘Not me. I’m going to sleep.’
And so I walked alone to the quartermaster’s department. Alone, that is, aside from the thoughts of Rome, of the puppet master that controlled my life.
‘Just get to Britain,’ I said out loud.
The quartermaster’s building had been built to hold the supplies of a fully manned fort, and was a large wooden building that warranted its own guard force, siege or not.
‘I’m looking for Titus,’ I asked one of the pair of legionaries at the door. ‘The QM,’ I added.
The soldier looked me up and down. No doubt he was on Titus’s payroll.
‘I was in his section in the forest,’ I snapped, my hangover and hunger putting me in no mood for games. ‘Is he here or not?’
‘Nah, he’s not here,’ the man eventually answered.
I tried to read his lined face. I had no idea whether or not he was telling the truth, but what did it matter? I wasn’t about to start throwing punches to get to Titus for conversation and food.
‘Tell him Felix was looking for him.’
I considered asking the man where Metella was operating out of. Instead I decided to give up. I would return to the barrack block and follow Stumps’s example of sleep.
It was a female voice that stopped me in my tracks.
‘Felix.’
I turned, seeing the German girl who had talked to me as I’d washed the blood of the night raid from my arms and face.
I opened my mouth to speak…
But I’d forgotten her name.
‘Linza,’ she answered for me.
I smiled to cover my embarrassment.
‘You look lost?’ she asked, smiling too; do all women enjoy a man’s discomfort?
‘Looking for a friend,’ I explained.
‘Did you find him?’
I shook my head. ‘In all honesty, I was more interested in his food than his company.’
My words were meant as a joke, but Linza’s face took on an earnest expression. ‘I have food.’
‘What? No. I couldn’t. I’m—’
‘Come. I have food.’
And without waiting for my reply, she took hold of my arm and led me into the fort’s alleyways.
We were silent as we walked, my mouth kept shut out of fear of further embarrassment. Embarrassment that this woman had taken such pity on my skeleton-like body that she needed to feed me. My discomfort wasn’t helped as other civilians shot us looks as we passed, doubtless convinced that it was my cock guiding me, and not my stomach.
Linza ignored the looks. She was either oblivious to them, or didn’t care, and we soon arrived at a barrack block that was being used to house civilians.
‘Wait here,’ she instructed me, disappearing within.
As I did, I watched a group of young children playing in the dirt. Two young boys waved sticks at one another, the German warrior and the legionary. It was a game now, but if the siege broke… I could only hope the end would be quick for them.
‘Here.’ I opened my eyes to see Linza had returned with a bowl of stew and a handful of biscuits.
‘I can’t take this,’ I protested.
‘We’ll share. Come on,’ she said, gesturing that I join her on one of the barrack block’s steps. ‘The others were happy to give it. They like having a soldier around.’
‘Why?’ I asked, sitting back against the wood.
‘You know why,’ she replied with a dark expression.
We ate silently for a while after that, dipping the biscuits into the thick stew. It was good. The siege was only days old, and Caedicius had not imposed rationing on either civilians or the fighting men.
‘Where are you from?’ she asked me through a mouthful.
‘The Seventeenth Legion.’
‘No. In the world.’
I had known what she meant, but was hoping I could sidestep the question. I looked at her, and saw a face that was open and without guile.
‘Dalmatia,’ I replied, and found myself smiling. Speaking a word of truth somehow made my shoulders feel lighter. After years of deceit, a brief moment of honesty warmed me like sun on my face.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I told her, feeling that heat as if I were there. Remembering what it had been like to grow up in a sun-drenched port city.
‘You miss it,’ she stated. My feelings were easy to read.
‘I do.’
‘How long since you were there?’
‘A long time,’ I answered as I took another bite of biscuit. ‘And you?’
‘From Batavia. I followed the army this summer to Minden. My first time from home.’
Linza’s missing husband was a Batavian auxiliary in Varus’s army, and so, like so many other loved ones, she must have followed him that summer on campaign. No one in the Empire expected that the intended show of strength would degenerate into the massacre of an entire army.
‘You’ll be home soon.’
‘Maybe.’ The girl shrugged. ‘But without my husband.’
‘I’m sure he got out,’ I offered lamely.
She gave me a tired smile, thanking me for my effort. ‘Tell me more about Dalmatia,’ she asked me, apparently to steer us clear of grieving waters. She had no idea that her question would lead me to my own heartache.
‘I’ve got watch tonight,’ I apologized, getting to my feet. ‘Let me give you some coins for the food.’
I was relieved when she refused my offer; I had none.
‘You can bring to me next time.’
‘This is where you live?’
‘Yes. And my name is Linza. So you don’t forget again.’
She had a good smile. I couldn’t help but get swept up in it. ‘Thank you.’
I walked away, and made for my own barrack block. As I picked my way through the space between the wooden buildings I thought of home, and Dalmatia. I thought of Linza’s smile, and how it had reminded me of a woman I had left there.
My woman.
I put my face in my hands, and tried not to scream.
23
There was a sharp chill in the night’s air, but my section was mobile, the thick cloaks draped over our armour catching the heat from our movements, and warming all but our faces. The tramp of hobnails was punctuated by sniffling noses.
‘For fuck’s sake, Dog, breathe through your nose,’ Stumps begged.
‘It’s blocked.’
‘I can feel your breath peeling off my skin.’
‘It’s not that bad.’
‘You don’t have to smell it.’
Stumps’s insults were a signal of high spirits. It had been a good day. Arminius’s army had shown no sign of growing, and the men of the section had enjoyed the labour of tearing down the buildings and then an afternoon of rest before this night duty. With three of the other sections we were assigned to rove below the walls, vigilant for break-ins from outside or theft within. It was a typical duty for a frontier soldier. Enforcing the law was a far more common order than to close with, and engage, the enemy. Of course, I knew that administering Rome’s laws could be just as bloody as any battle.
‘I saw a ghost once. On a night duty.’ Dog spoke up, doubtless wanting to steer the topic of conversation away from his breath.
‘A ghost?’ Micon asked, his face suddenly animated in the torchlight.
‘Yeah. On the walls at Mogontiacum.’ Dog was referring to the stone fort there, which sat beside the Rhine. ‘It was walking the walls, and wailing.’
Statius snorted. ‘Bollocks.’