Vindex watched her go, his admiration obvious. ‘That one’s special and no doubt.’
Claudia Enica heard the compliment and let herself smile. She was going around the whole position, checking that all was well and doing her best to encourage. Ferox had once told her that an officer was often too busy to worry about the big things, because there was always so much to do and so many little things to worry about. Still, as she squatted behind barricades or climbed up to the rafters and peered cautiously through the holes they had made in the roofs, she could not help wondering whether her husband lived and where he was. A lookout spent the daylight hours on top of the tower, because the ladders leading up were exposed to archers on the ramparts and it was too risky to climb except at night. For all they could see there might be no more than four or five hundred Dacians left at the fort, but for the second day there was no sign of anyone else, whether the enemy’s main army or any Roman relief force.
The buildings were vulnerable, because there were few windows and it was also hard to fight through small holes like that. Stone or not, the Dacians had tried to pile up timber and start fires against several walls. So far, it had not worked, mainly because they had ripped rafters and tiles away so that men could perch and follow Achilles’ example by lobbing the tiles down at anyone who came close. The dwarf was doing well and might survive, assuming any of them did. Half the food would be gone by the end of this third day, and there was a steady trickle of losses each time the Dacians attacked. If they attacked on all sides at the same time, they would surely swamp the remnants of the garrison. The only reason she could think of why they had not done this was that they did not want to lose men when it was just a matter of days.
Claudia Enica kept herself busy and worried about all the little things. Now and again she wondered about all the little steps in life that had brought her to this place, and that led to thoughts of other days and other times, some good and some bad. She and Lepidina shared a light meal together, saying little, which was rare for them, and simply enjoying the other’s company. Lepidina was worried about the games she could hear the children playing.
‘“He’s lost his head!” you hear them shout, and “That one’s got an arrow in the lungs!’’ Even young Flavia waves a stick as if it was a sword. That’s your influence, no doubt! … They seem less bothered than I would expect by all the dying though.’
There was not much other news, apart from the fact that Piso had woken up, but declared himself too hurt to do anything other than go off to one of the last rooms with no one else in it, taking an amphora of wine with him.
‘It’s dangerous after a blow to the head or at least I fear that it is,’ Lepidina told her friend. ‘Although in truth I did not argue too much. Angry and resentful man that – not happy in himself and blaming everyone else for it.’
‘Sosius had doubts about his loyalty, and I do wonder whether…’ Claudia hesitated, and would probably not have said this to anyone else. ‘I wonder whether it was Sosius who attacked him on the night of the fire. Probably acting on orders.’
Lepidina did not need to ask whose orders. ‘Perhaps. Sweet Minerva, that all seems an age ago. I just hope concerns about him do not deter them coming to help us.’
The Dacians made no attacks throughout the afternoon, although arrows flew now and again. Enica wondered whether they would wait for darkness and decided to get some rest before the sun went down, so that she would be fresher if something did happen. Before trying to sleep, she indulged herself with a wash down and a change of tunic and undergarments, going to one of the little rooms in the praetorium’s bath suite. There was no one else there, although the tribune was in a chamber off the same corridor.
Washing was a joy and she longed for a true bath and the feeling of the steam cleansing all her skin. Yet just a simple wash refreshed her so much that she wondered whether she could sleep. She ran her fingers through the clean tunic. Philo had taken it upon himself to launder her spare clothes, devoting his energies to her improvement. There was a knock on the door.
‘Lady?’
It was Indike, sent by her husband to collect the dirty clothes and take them away to where he could work his magic and restore them to life. She smiled as she came in. A slave was used to seeing nudity among the wealthy, just as Claudia gave little thought to the other woman’s presence.
‘Anything else, lady?’
‘Thank you, no.’
Claudia lifted a small bronze-backed mirror she had brought and studied her face, bereft for days of any cosmetics. Were there lines around the eyes and mouth? She thought that she had seen them when she last looked, but washing off the dust and grime had reduced them to no more than hints. Sighing, she thought of her grandmother, the great Cartimandua, whose mirror had helped her to see the future. She had been a frightening old woman, usually stern until one of her rare moments of kindness. Enica sought in her own mind for the dead queen’s voice, for her certainty and guidance.
Instead there was a man’s voice from the hall outside, gruff and unclear.
‘Girl!’ the man was shouting now. ‘Here, girl!’
Enica could not hear the response. She had already drawn on her boots, and might have smiled at this mark of the Mother’s training. Shoes or boots first, each Mother told her pupils. ‘You can fight naked if you have to, but a firm grip on muddy ground will often save your life.’ Not worrying about undergarments, she pulled the fresh tunic over her head.
There was a scream, cut short in an instant.
‘Come on, bitch!’ The voice was Piso’s, very slurred and unclear.
Enica drew her curved sica from its scabbard and unlocked the door. There was no one in the hall, but her old clothes were scattered on the floor where they had been dropped. Across the way, two doors were shut tight and only the one in between them had light showing around its edges and underneath. She wondered about kicking the door, then decided that calm might be better. Enica lowered her sword to her side, and opened it.
Indike was on the table, face-down amid the plates and scraps of the tribune’s meal, her long dress bunched up over her bare buttocks. Piso was holding her down with one hand, while fumbling at his breeches with the other. The girl was sobbing, her whole body quivering with fear.
‘Stop, lord tribune,’ Claudia Enica said, doing her best to sound firm and level as her anger rose.
‘Piss off, Ferox!’ Piso mumbled without looking back. The broken fragments of the amphora showed that he had drunk the whole thing.
‘Stop at once!’ Claudia yelled at him. ‘You’re a disgrace, tribune, to your family and rank.’
‘Jupiter’s balls, at last.’ Piso’s breeches started to slide down. ‘Go away, you fool. You cannot judge a noble.’ Indike wriggled, trying to free herself, so the tribune slapped her hard across the bottom. ‘Still, you slut! Still!’
Claudia Enica went forward and pressed the tip of her blade against Piso’s throat.
‘You dumb bastard, Ferox, what are you playing at? She’s just a slave.’
‘I said stop or I slit your throat,’ Claudia told him. ‘And I am not Ferox.’
Piso stood up, turning his head and focusing his bleary eyes. He shuffled back, breeches around his knees. Enica kept the blade close to his throat, but let him move away.
‘Go, girl. Find your husband and stay with him – or if not him, the Lady Sulpicia Lepidina.’ Indike was up, pulling her dress back down. She could not speak, but the gratitude showed in her eyes as she fled.
‘Lady?’ Piso blinked as he started. ‘The Lady Claudia? Is that you?’
‘It is, and come in time. That woman is free, so what you tried to do was rape. Still, I am sure that we can persuade her to forget this ever happened.’