“You can spare us the flattery,” Calvinus admonished.
“It is no flattery, I assure you,” Broehain asserted. “I have witnessed too much suffering and death to be concerned with such petty things.” There was a bitter note to his voice. Broehain knew that of all those from his village who had joined Sacrovir’s cause, less than a third would ever return home.
“I do not care about my own welfare,” he continued. “I know that as a leader of this rebellion, my life is forfeit. I only ask that you spare the lives of my men, and that you make that bastard Sacrovir pay for what he has done to our peoples.”
“You are of the Turani?” Calvinus asked.
Broehain nodded in reply.
“Then you were not a part of Sacrovir’s inner circle.”
“That is correct. He used us as sheep to be slaughtered; a ruse to fool you into thinking him loyal to Rome.”
“The leaders of this rebellion have indeed forfeited their lives,” Silius replied. “You, however, were not part of that circle. You may yet have a small chance at redemption. Lead us to Sacrovir, and your life will be spared.
Your lands, however, will still be confiscated. You will be left with a small farmhouse and a plot of land.”
Broehain closed his eyes as they welled up with tears of disbelief. He was only going to request that the Romans kill him quickly, and yet he was being offered his life. A life devoid of his lands, prestige, and wealth, however, a life where he would be able to see his sons grow up to become men, where he would be able to hold his wife in his arms again. He was a broken man, but he would still be able to live for his family.
“Sacrovir has an estate, well hidden in the hills,” he said in a low voice. “That is where they have fled. I will take you to them.”
“Of course you will,” Silius replied. He then directed the soldiers, “Clean him up and see to his wounds.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lennox sat at the table and placed his head in his hands. He had taken up residence in a small apartment in Augustodunum, awaiting the end of the rebellion. His body shook as he silently wept for his son. Kiana sat across from him. His wife stood sullenly off in the corner.
“You could have done more to help him,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying.
Lennox looked up at her, his eyes red and swollen. “What else could I have done? His heart was set on seeing this through. I could not stop him.” “You should have fought beside him.” Her voice was quiet.
Kiana’s eyes grew wide, not believing what she had heard. She hated Sacrovir and the rebels, and she blamed them for Farquhar’s death rather than the Romans. The lad’s mother felt differently.
“You heard me,” she continued, in a louder, accusing voice.“You and all the other nobles should have fought beside your sons! Better to have died honorably as our ancestors did!” She was almost shouting.
“Will you be quiet, woman?!” Lennox snapped. “These walls have ears, and we are not in a friendly house.”
“So what if the Romans do hear more seditious talk!” his wife continued to rant. “I have lost my son, and my husband is nothing but a coward! I would rather be taken by the Romans. .”
Lennox lunged to his feet and struck her hard across the face before she could continue. “I will not be named a coward by my own wife!” he spat. “I did not choose to throw my life away foolishly. I gave Farquhar our ancestral sword, the most sacred artifact this family possesses, and now it is lost as well. It was all I could do. . it was all I could do.” At that, Lennox started to break again, and he put his hands over his face while his wife started to wail and sob as she curled up in the corner of the room. Kiana stood and backed towards the door. “I should go,” she said quietly.
Lennox took her in his arms and held her close. “I am sorry you have seen us like this,” he said through his tears. “Please forgive me.” “There is nothing to forgive,” Kiana whispered as she returned his embrace.
He released her, and she stepped out into the night. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes once she was outside.
“An abominable predicament to be in,” a voice spoke.
Kiana leapt up, startled. It took her a second to recognize the voice. She quickly looked to her left and saw her father walk into the torchlight. He was dressed in a Roman-style toga, his face worn and tired. With him were two of his body slaves, as well as a group of four Roman soldiers. Kiana rushed into her father’s arms, finally letting her own tears go.
“It’s alright, daughter,” he said soothingly. “Everything is going to be alright now.”
“You have found your daughter, sir. Now it is time for you to leave,” the legionary decanus spoke.
“Come,” the elder Gaul remarked with a motion of his head, “let us leave this place, Kiana. There is a carriage waiting for us outside the main gates. These men escorted me here to ascertain that it is my daughter I seek, rather than a wayward son.”
“Let’s go,” the decanus spoke again, pointing down the road. He waited for Kiana and her father to start walking before following close behind with his men. Not another word was spoken between father and daughter until they were in their carriage and away from the city.
“It was a noble thing you did,” the father spoke at length. “I feel for Lennox, I really do. He is an old friend, and Farquhar was a fine young man.”
“I feel sick,” Kiana said. “I saw the bodies of many of my friends today. . mutilated. . ripped apart by such savagery.”
“Yes, and a young girl should not have to see such things. I saw the carnage the Romans wrought. War demonstrates humankind at its absolute worst, and the Romans have become masters of it. And yet, in the end we got off pretty lucky.”
“How so?” Kiana asked.
“I have no sons,” her father replied. “I have land, slaves, a wealth of coin, and two beautiful daughters, but no sons. The Romans know this. Therefore, there is no chance of us falling victim to their purge.”
“What purge?” Kiana felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She realized her people’s suffering had only begun with the defeat of Sacrovir’s army.
“Reparation and retribution, my dear. The noble youths who were not killed in the battle were captured to a man. Legate Silius will ransom them and demand a fearful toll for their safe return.”
Kiana folded her arms across her chest, the sound of the carriage moving through the night playing an ominous tone as her father continued.
“The ransoms demanded will destroy the families who choose to pay them. Lands will be confiscated, slaves taken, and the nobles will be stripped practically down to their last denarii. Already I have heard that Silius is planning a massive auction for the lands they take.”
“And what if a family is unable to pay the ransom?” Her question caused her stomach to seize up, for she feared the worst in her father’s reply. Instead, he was evasive in his answer.
“That is something we need not worry about,” he answered with finality. “I mourn for my friends, as well as my daughter, in their loss. But I still count my own family’s blessings. At least I know that I can still provide you with sufficient dowry to attract a suitable husband. I will have to search the province now in order to find a suitable man, but it will be done.”
Kiana smiled weakly and averted her eyes downward. Her father leaned forward and placed his hand in hers.
“Farquhar was a good lad,” he remarked, “and he would have made you a fine husband. The union between our families would have been great indeed. But he is gone now, and there is no bringing him back. There will be few young men left in this region with any kind of status or position worthy of my daughter. But let us not think of these things now. You are safe, and we will be home soon.” He kept a watchful eye on his daughter as she lay back in the carriage and drifted off to sleep, exhaustion having overcome her at last. The drone of the carriage rumbling caused him to nod off eventually as well.