The Eagles Conquest

'It's beautiful!' Lavinia marvelled. 'I've never seen anything like this.

Never. Where did you get it?'

'My father sent it to me. It's a gift for the Emperor. I was told to present it to him as soon as we'd taken Camulodunum. Bring it here.' Lavinia returned to the bed, carrying the dagger with reverence. 'Such a lovely thing. The Emperor will adore it.'

'That's what my father hopes. And I think it is the kind of gift that is best presented with some sense of occasion. So I thought I might hand it to the Emperor at the height of tomorrow's celebrations, before all his guests, so that they can see Claudius' reaction to my father's symbol of loyalty and affection.'

'They'll die of jealousy.'

'My thoughts exactly,' said Vitellius. 'That's why I need you to do me a favour.'

'What kind of a favour?'

'I need you to carry this into the banquet for me. No one is admitted into the Emperor's presence carrying a blade of any kind. His guards will be searching all the formal guests, but you can get into the banquet through the kitchen. All you need to do is hide it like this.' He reached under her tunic and pressed the scabbard against the inside of her thigh. Lavinia gasped and then laughed. 'You'll have to strap it in place. No one will know it's there.'

Lavinia took hold of the scabbard again and regarded it with a worried expression.

'What's the matter?'

'What happens if I get searched and they find it on me?'

'Don't worry, Lavinia. I'll be close by. If anything like that happens before I get the dagger back from you, I'll intervene and explain everything. '

Lavinia looked intently into his face. 'What if you don't?'

Vitellius' expression changed to a mixture of hurt and anger. 'Why would I want to get you into any kind of trouble?'

'I don't know.'

'Exactly. I'm hardly likely to endanger the woman I love, am I?' He reached his arms round her and pulled her towards his chest, waiting until her body felt more relaxed before he continued. 'Once you're inside, waiting on Lady Flavia and Vespasian, I'll find you and retrieve the dagger, as quickly as I can.'

'Not too publicly I hope!'

'Of course not. It wouldn't be seemly for a member of my class to be seen to be groping a slave in public.'

'Thanks for the concern about my reputation,' Lavinia replied bitterly. 'Only joking, my sweet. We'll just have to find somewhere quiet for me to retrieve it.' He squeezed her affectionately. 'Will you do this for me? It'll mean a lot to my father, and it'll help my career along.'

'What's in it for me?'

'As soon as I get my share of the booty I swear I'll buy you from Flavia. Afterwards we can see about having you manurnitted.'

'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.