Avenger of Rome by Douglas Jackson

Author:Douglas Jackson [Jackson, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9781409032939
Google: IAT_RI5QroQC
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2012-08-15T18:30:00+00:00

XXVI

‘MY CAVALRY COMMANDER must have a horse worthy of him.’

If beauty is the perfection of form, she was the most beautiful thing Valerius had ever seen. A groom held the reins to steady her noble head and Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo, proconsul of the east and governor of Syria, stood by her shining flank. The sword that hung from the four-pommelled cavalry saddle was the ceremonial blade Valerius had pulled from Corbulo’s wall, but it had been modified for war.

With a flourish the governor drew it free and the blue-sheened blade glinted menacingly in the morning sun. ‘It has a great history and it is not right that it should spend its life as a decoration.’ Corbulo’s voice contained that unsettling mix of steel, certainty and charm that made him who he was. ‘I have had the jewels removed and the hilt bound with leather strips to improve the grip. It is a soldier’s weapon now. The balance is a little unusual. You will notice that it is weighted towards the point, but that can be an advantage when you are using a sword from horseback. Here, take it.’

Corbulo spun the weapon with a soldier’s practised hands so that the hilt was towards Valerius. The young Roman took it remembering the weight and the feel from his encounter with the snake. The sword’s energy ran through him like heat from a blazing fire. He tried two or three cuts and it was as if the blade had a life of its own. Still, he only had eyes for the horse, and when Corbulo spoke again it was with an old cavalryman’s pride and a glint in his eye.

‘I owe you my daughter’s life, tribune Gaius Valerius Verrens, not once, but many times. I hope you will accept this gift in part payment. She is an Akhal-Teke, from my own stables: the horse of kings.’

Valerius stared at the astonishing animal whose forefathers had carried Alexander the Great from Athens to the shores of the Indus; freshly groomed she was a work of art in polished bronze, her coat of fine hairs gleaming in the sunlight. He approached the horse’s head and allowed her to take in his scent through wide nostrils which flared and snorted as he stroked her silken ears with his good hand. Only when he was sure she knew him did he look into the glistening dark eyes behind curling lashes and knew she was his for ever, and he hers.

‘They are by nature a desert breed,’ Corbulo continued. ‘But she has a touch of Karabakh in her; not enough to affect her speed or her stamina, but enough to accustom her to the mountains. They are hardy stock and need little water.’

She was long and lean with an elegantly curving neck and a proud head. Her breast was narrow, shaped like a ship’s prow and made for cutting through the desert air when she was given her head to run free on the long, slim legs. ‘I will

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