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Balbus glanced over at Fronto, who was now fully slumped in the chair, his eyes shut. He smiled and turned to Caesar.

“General, I will travel with you as far as Vienna at least, but I return to my family in Massilia. The legates Fronto and Crispus, I believe, have other plans also.”

Caesar nodded, glancing once again with mild disapproval at the slumped bodies of Fronto, Crispus, Varus and Sabinus.

“Quintus Pedius and Quintus Tullius Cicero, I’m afraid I will need you to report to me as soon as the midwinter festivities are over. You will find me in Aquileia.”

The two officers nodded.

The General stretched and then sat back.

“I believe that’s everything, then. Unless anyone has a question?”

He was greeted with a snore. Balbus elbowed Fronto sharply in the ribs. And then swore and rubbed his elbow.

“Why does he attend late-night briefings in armour?”

Balbus kicked the cart’s wheel.

“Fairly sturdy, I suppose. Don’t think I’d trust it all that way, though.”

Fronto growled. His head still thumped like the hammering of Vulcan on his anvil.

“It’s only carrying our gear. We’ll be on horses.”

Balbus shrugged.

“Still, I hope it’s light gear!”

Crispus looked up over the edge of the cart.

“We’ve hardly overburdened ourselves. Marcus is familiar with the locale, so it’s only the necessities of life on the road. And Longinus’ goods, naturally.”

Balventius, standing close by and leaning upon his vine staff, raised an eyebrow.

“Where are you both going?”

Fronto turned to the grizzled centurion and smiled.

“I’m going to take Crispus here to Spain and deliver Longinus’ stuff to his family. They’re building a Villa near Tarraco, and I’m sure we’ll find his family there. Besides which, I’m dying to show Crispus Tarraco and my favourite drinking pits. I’m going to drive that well-bred cleverness out of him with excessive carousing.”

Crispus grinned over the cart and Balbus laughed out loud.

“Don’t forget you tried that the last couple of days. He’s still just as nice and clever and verbose, but somewhere along the line he lost a valuable sword and helmet.”

Crispus waved a finger at his older friend.

“Ah, no. Waves of recollection hit me this morning. I’m certain that I sold my helmet in order to… to… do something or other. I’m not entirely sure what. I found my sword this morning. Almost severed my arm with it in fact. Must have left it in bed.”

Balbus raised his eyes skywards and turned to Balventius.

“Gods, he even sleeps with his sword now. I swear that Fronto’s becoming a bad influence on him.”

“Or a good one.” Balventius smiled.

Fronto finished securing a line and then glanced past Balbus at Balventius.

“What about you? Are you staying here, or checking out the nice little retirement nest that Caesar hand-picked for you?”

Balventius shrugged.

“Going to have a look. It’s on the Rhone, just south of Vienna, so I can go with this lot. Big place, mind you… big place. I’ll probably have a bit of a look round and then come back to Vesontio. Don’t like to leave the lads alone too long. They go soft, like fruit.”

Fronto pointed over toward the rest of the camp.

“Don’t rush back. Crassus’ll probably have you all over Gaul in search of glory over winter. Unless Labienus stops him, of course.”

Balventius grinned.

“I’ve had a word with my juniors. I’d like to see any bastard get them moving without my say so, let alone that pompous prat. What about yours? Don’t you worry about the Tenth?”

Fronto returned the defiant smile.

“I’ve left Priscus, Tetricus and Velius in charge. Can you imagine them doing anything they disagree with?”

“I suppose not. Well, I’d best get back. I’ve only got ten minutes and I need to find that idiot stable master.”

Fronto frowned as Balventius left, and turned to Balbus.

“What’s he doing with the stable master?”

“He bought a horse.”

“Why didn’t he speak to Varus and borrow one?”

Balbus grinned.

“He doesn’t trust ones that have been used in combat. Reckons they’ll keep charging into trouble. He’s a great primus pilus, but he’s not exactly a confident horseman. I take it you haven’t heard about Varus, then?”

“No. What?”

The grin on Balbus’ face increased to a wide beam.

“After the meeting, when I brought you and Crispus back, Varus and Sabinus went back into town. Sabinus got into a bit of a ‘thing’ with one of the local girls. It all went a touch wrong and Sabinus ended up getting punched in the face. It might have broken his nose.”

“And Varus?”

“He didn’t come back last night. We were about to send out a duty unit to looks for him, but Sabinus stopped us. When we asked why, he just kept laughing and saying ‘he’ll be fine.’”

Fronto smiled.

“Ah. Fraternising with the locals, I suppose.”

“I believe so.”

Tightening the last of the ropes, Fronto patted the horse on the flank.

“Well, that’s it. We’re ready for the off. We’ll be heading for Narbo first on the way to Spain. The Aedui have offered to give us a small cavalry escort until we’re back in the Empire’s borders. I guess we’ll see you next spring. Unless you get bored of Massilia and fancy Tarraco for a while. We shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Balbus smiled.

“I think Corvinia’ll want to go to Rome not long after I get back, and then out to the countryside. Anyway, I’d best keep my harpy daughters away from you. They were practically drooling over you at Geneva. I’m too young still to have you for a son, Marcus!”

Fronto frowned and then looked around to see the bemused question on Crispus’ face.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Balbus clasped hands with Fronto and then, shrugging, the two embraced before Fronto climbed onto his horse. Balbus grasped the reins for a moment.

“Take care of yourself. I’d hate to think how dull and straightforward next year would be without you.”

Smiling, Fronto looked round at Crispus and nodded. The younger man checked the securing of the cart reins to his own and then returned the nod.

“Ready.”

Fronto looked down at Balbus.

“I’ll be fine. Same as always. Send my love to Corvinia and we’ll see you next year.”

With a slapping of the reins, the two set off amid the buzzing of bees, the whistling of the wind and the song of avian life to the duty of delivering Longinus to his family, for the relaxation of the winter months, and for the delights of Imperial Spain.