Deva Tales by S. J. A. Turney

Author:S. J. A. Turney [Turney, S. J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: charity, deva, rome, Ancient, roman, legion, chester
ISBN: 9781981244638
Google: hz6wswEACAAJ
Amazon: 1981244638
Goodreads: 44604557
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2017-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

7. THE LADY

Early that same morning.

Tiberia Marcia narrowed her eyes, her cheek pulsing dangerously.

‘Just because you haven’t put a wedding ring on this finger yet doesn’t mean you are free to swan about as though you were a young recruit and leave me with your household. After all, it’s not my household… yet!’

The camp prefect of Deva, third in command of the fortress and veteran of almost forty years of service, turned on his betrothed of more than a decade, an exasperated look about his eyes.

‘Listen, Tiberia. This is an important and very busy day. The procurator of Britannia is in our yard this week, and careers will be made and broken on his say so. It’s alright for the legate, who’s a favourite of Governor Lucullus, or Tribune Longus, who owes his commission to the procurator anyway. But me? I’m a former centurion with nothing to show for my two terms of service but a dozen scars, a good reputation and the hope of an excellent pension. But that pay-out could easily either double or halve, all depending on what the procurator thinks of me.’

Tiberia’s eyes became that little bit flintier.

‘Listen, Tiberia, another three or four years and I’ll be out. Then I can add a new ring to that engagement one and we can be formal. I can adopt the kids and all will be good. Lucius can even join the legion himself then. And think what a difference it’ll make to us if I can impress the procurator and raise my pension. So excuse me if I’m a little busy or preoccupied this morning. And I apologise for sending for you while it’s still dark. I have to go out and do things, but I need my house to be tidy and clean and looking perfect, just in case I manage to persuade the procurator to drop in for a cup of wine. My whole future might be riding on this.’

There was a tight silence, and Tiberia gave a disgruntled nod. ‘But I am not your skivvy, old man. Do not expect this to set a precedent. I shall not be ‘popping into the fortress’ to clean your house for you on a daily basis. Remember, your children and I still have a house to look after in the town, too.’

The prefect gave his wife a weak smile and a brief kiss on the cheek, and then, fastening his sword belt around his girth, nodded and scuttled from the room and out into the pre-dawn inky air.

Tiberia huffed irritably and looked around. The house glowed with oil lamps lit in every room, displaying the clothes scattered around the floor and the used cups and platters on almost every surface. No wonder Pompeius had had to sell his body slave. He’d claimed it was the rising cost of looking after his family in the town, but Tiberia was not fooled for a moment. She knew exactly how much she and the children cost, and had a pretty good idea of how much money the old bugger brought home each month.

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