Rufinus nodded thoughtfully. ‘Strong… and wise’ he added. Suddenly he blinked, aware that he had unwittingly spoken his thoughts aloud rather than keeping them in the privacy of his head. Lucilla’s eyes had narrowed to slits again.
‘Wisdom. Yes, wisdom too.’ She straightened. ‘So the scions of the Rustii come back to Rome to… what? To rebuild the family honour? Hard to do when hiding under assumed names.’
Rufinus took a deep breath. ‘Only I, majesty. My brother died in a hunting accident a number of years ago. I left Hispania to seek a life in the army, though events conspired to deny me that and I find myself in Latium as a mercenary.’
‘Fortunate for us, however.’
She frowned once more and then turned to her painted chamberlain and nodded. ‘You will serve well here, I feel, Rustius. You need not deny your name with us; I am hardly a woman to hold the grudges of men long dead.’
She returned to her throne and took a seat, shifting among the cushions until comfortable.
‘I will speak to Phaestor and Vettius. You will be given a command of eight men and shall be responsible for the security of my palace. I expect total and utter loyalty, as I’m sure you understand.’
Rufinus’ heart swelled. Despite the subterfuge involved in all of this, it was hard not to feel pride in advancement, especially being told to use the cursed family name openly. He bowed respectfully.
Lucilla gave him another look up and down. ‘And have some new clothes and armour made. I have no wish to watch you stride around the palace with the gait of a peacock and the garb of a vagrant.’
Rufinus felt the colour rise in his cheeks and lowered his face to hide the fact.
‘Now go and prepare yourself. You’ll continue to follow assignments Vettius hands you until the captain returns with my new people, and then we will look to your new role.’
Rufinus turned his lowered gaze into a bow, then straightened and spun on his heel, striding from the room with his head high; a moment of unaccustomed pride, marred only slightly as his boot slid on the smooth marble floor and he almost pitched forward into the doors.
Recovering himself in a flurry of movement that caused chuckles from the throne area, Rufinus pushed open the door and rushed through, before his blush became noticeable. The door swung shut behind him and he pushed it the last fraction until it closed with a click. The veteran guard who attended the door stood to one side, leaning against the wall in a relaxed fashion.
‘You alright, Marcius?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘You’re bright red.’
Rufinus harrumphed and his shoulders sagged a little. ‘Wish I was going off duty’ he said with feeling. ‘I could use a strong drink.’
The other man grinned. ‘I’m off in fifteen. I’ll have it for you.’
‘Thanks.’
Turning away, he strode along the corridor, past the water villa, nodding to the guard patrolling there, and into the courtyard that separated the twin libraries from the palace, its colonnade reflecting the morning sun from dazzling white marble columns and painted walls, the decorative garden in the centre well-tended and perfect. Most perfect of alclass="underline" it was entirely devoid of people.
Rufinus, still walking with head high and back straight, glanced this way and that and, noting his solitude, slumped against the wall and let out an explosive breath. That had been a challenge he had been neither expecting nor prepared for. He realised with a small wave of sadness that he was becoming an accomplished liar through necessity, and the fact was anathema to him.
He needed to think. Fortunately, patrolling the Pecile garden with its ornamental ponds and tree avenues would be the perfect situation to consolidate his thoughts on these latest developments. He realised that he could have passed through the circular colonnade of the water villa and headed straight for the garden, but his mind had been whirling as he’d left the room, and he’d automatically exited the way he’d originally arrived. Now he would have to stroll through the library terrace and across the slope to the beautiful garden.
The sound of footsteps echoing from the corridor out of which he had just emerged pulled him straight and he squared his shoulders to move off when he realised that these were not the hob-nailed steps of a guard, but the gentle slap of feminine sandals on an ‘opus sectile’ floor of marble and glass. The tinkle of female laughter sent a shiver down his spine.
Senova.
The breath-taking creamy face of the British slave girl, framed with elegantly waved sable hair, appeared around the door frame, her mouth turned up at the corners with a delicate smile. Next to her, the other slave girl from the council chamber breezed along, recounting some tale of amusement, charcoal hair hanging to her shoulders, displaying the signs of recently having been tightly curled atop her head, her hazel eyes only a few shades lighter than her bronzed skin.
Trying to push a relaxed smile onto his face as he stepped away from the wall, he cleared his throat.
Both women squeaked and started away from him in surprise, Senova leaving the floor by a fraction.
‘Apologies, ladies.’
Senova narrowed her eyes as she straightened and a flash of irritation passed across them. ‘What are you doing lurking in shadows and jumping out at women? Has Phaestor stopped bringing whores in for his men?’
Rufinus felt irritation rise parallel to the ruddy colour that rushed to his cheeks and, to make matters worse, as he tried to snap out a comeback, he found his mouth was dry and all that emerged was a curious rasp.
The swarthy-skinned girl gave him an impish grin.
‘No’ he finally managed to trot out in a hoarse voice. ‘Though actually, Phaestor has stopped bringing in such women as a security risk.’
He realised how idiotic it sounded, harshly countering a sarcastic jest. ‘But…’ he floundered for a moment and felt the colour blush hotter on his face. With a sigh, he let his shoulders droop in defeat. ‘I was recovering. Came as a bit of a shock, all that.’
Senova nodded, an expression of calm understanding replacing the irritated smile. ‘I can believe it, given your talent for keeping secrets.’
Rufinus felt his heart start to pound faster and a cold wave brushed the hair on his arms making them stand straight. He had not seen this intoxicating, wondrous woman for weeks, or even months, barring a quick sighting across the grass, and other, more immediate events had conspired to push her from his thoughts. It was only now, standing face to face with her, that he remembered just how much she knew about him. One word from her in the council chamber could have seen him crucified within the hour.
‘Relax, Gnaeus Marcius… Rustius, is it? You’re free of such worries now.’ She winked from an angle that kept the gesture hidden from the other girl and Rufinus felt his pulse slow to a steadier pace.
‘Maybe you can walk back with us?’ the other girl asked, and something in her voice caused Rufinus to turn his gaze on her, tearing it with regret from the grey eyes of Senova. The second slave smiled sweetly, her eyes creasing in a pleasant manner.
‘Of course’ he replied evenly. ‘I have to patrol the Pecile, so I’ll drop you both off at the quarters on the way.’
‘Thank you, though I am only travelling to the entrance complex. You can drop me there before you walk on to the chambers with Senova.’
There was a hint of a knowing smile on her face and Rufinus snapped back to glance at the pale-skinned taller slave, only to see her flash a quick admonishing glance at her companion. His heart soared at that one tiny accidental admission.
‘Come on’ he said, his voice cracking slightly as they walked.