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Cerealis and his escort- including the retiring legionaries promised by Rutilius, disembarked from the river squadron just north of Mogontiacum, where his cavalry ala was waiting. The original plan- shipping the ala, would have left the infantry on a slow march that could not reach the capital of Germania Superior within the allotted time. The switch- putting the veterans on the ships and having the ala ride- allowed both to meet up just outside of the town on time- and without the need to scrounge up barges for the horses.
Also awaiting the ships was a small contingent of three turmae, which had been detached from the ala before it headed north. The decurion leading that vexillation moved forward to greet his proconsul.
“Ah, Marcus Fulvus,” said Cerealis as he saw the doughty decurion approach. “And how are the operations to the south and east?”
Fulvus shrugged. “The deployments seem competent enough,” said the old soldier. “I doubt I could do better, even with my twenty six years of service. The Raetians have extended their defenses to meet with the new ones, and the watch towers are well sited. A few of the roads I would have done differently- but that is a matter of taste. Overall, the border seems tight.”
Cerealis acknowledged the report, and turned to his head lictor, standing at the decurion’s side. “And our deception went well?”
The lictor nodded. “None of the boys manning the outposts and castella we visited suspected a thing. Luckily none of the boys there had served with you. They all thought Fulvus here the proconsul. He played his part well, lord.”
Cerealis turned to face the decurion. Both men were tall, with wide shoulders, narrow waists, and wore identical cuirasses. The decurion removed his helmet to reveal shaggy, curly black hair striped with grey, and handed the helmet back to its owner. Cerealis accepted his helmet and attached it to his saddle.
“Good, then we march around Mogo to come in from the south east, while the infantry here march directly in and report to Postumus. That will boost our infantry escort to three cohorts- more than enough to disparage the brigands operating in Italia until this is safely in the Treasury. Now, to brief Eprius, and play out the final scene we need here in the north.”
“I am really looking forward to heading home, sir,” Fulvus added. “I never did like this place.”
“It can grow on you,” the proconsul retorted. “But not in Februarius. Come, let us get out of this cold.”
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“Well?” asked Quintus Cerealis as he barged into the house he shared with Eprius. The other proconsul was alone, poring over ledgers and taking notes. “Still at it?”
Eprius sighed and picked up his wine goblet. After offering one to Cerealis, who declined, he drained his own. “On the last few now. So far, things are coming out exactly as written. A few discrepancies, mind you, but nothing glaring or out of the ordinary. And your task?“
“The defenses are examined, and all messages delivered.”
Eprius nodded. “Then tomorrow we can inform our worried host of his good news and thereafter go back to the sunny south where we belong.” He shivered. “And none too soon, either!”
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Rome was quiet. It seemed as if a dark cloud was hovering over the city, more than just the usual winter rain clouds. This cloud was darker, more intense, and felt by almost every person in the city. It was powered by the rumors filling the city of unrest in the mountainous south, and of merchants refusing to risk their lives and their goods. Trade was shutting down, making life miserable for those whose livelihoods depended on trade, namely the First Class. As the merchant princes ceased operations, the Second and Third Classes lost income as well, and the effect rippled down through the classes to reach every citizen. Something bad was on the way unless somebody did something to stop it.
An ominous knock sounded on the door of Aulus Caecina. His steward opened the door, admitted the visitor to the atrium, and detailed a maid to inform their lord that he had a visitor. He then brought the visitor to the sitting room.
Caecina entered the room angrily. He was having a noon-time session with one of Pomponia’s lovelies when the summons came. A senator, he could not put off the call of duty if it was a client calling, so he hastily dressed and stormed into to where his unbidden guest was waiting. His mood changed abruptly when he saw who had come calling without an invitation.
“Terentia,” he said in surprise.
What was the widow of Burrius the knight doing here? “An unexpected pleasure.”
He meant it. Though Terentia was almost his age, she had that classic, ageless beauty few women are born with. Should one guess her to be a twenty year old newlywed, they would be in good company with many others who made the same mistake. For this visit, she had dressed casually in a flowing white robe whose pristine effect was marred only by the black sash she wore in mourning, but one which complemented her alabaster complexion and long dark curls of her hair. The Egyptian kohl with which she adorned her eyes only heightened the effect of her natural beauty.
“I do apologize for dropping in on you so unexpectedly,” Terentia said sincerely. “But I am at my wit’s end.”
Caecina sat beside he and feigned relaxation. How could he fully relax with the woman whose husband he had murdered to cover his own ass? He placed a gentle hand upon her wrist and said calmly, “Please, do tell me how I can help.”
Terentia breathed deeply. “My husband is missing, and has been since before the praetorians came snooping around. I know Titus very well- he did not, could not do what they accuse him of doing. But he is gone, leaving but a note.”
This was all old news to Caecina. It was he, after all, who set Eprius to sniffing about Helvidius, the patron of Burrius. And it was his former friend and conspirator Mallius who sent the damning documents north through the network of Burrius. But it was Domitian who had switched the casual warnings out and sent the Roman military plans in their place. Those plans had been intercepted and exposed, condemning Burrius and Helvidius.
“It does not matter what he did or was capable of doing,” Caecina reminded her in a soft tone. She was exquisite, too much so for a mere knight. “It matters only that the imperials think he did it, and they have proof. I really do not see how I can help.”
Terentia placed her other hand over his that covered hers. “Aulus, you risked your own life to give Titus the warning he needed to escape this injustice. You have proven yourself a friend of his, and of mine. Now I need advice, and find that his old contacts and partners turn me a cold shoulder, due to the false accusations. Only you know they are false, thus I come to you.”
“What is it you need?” he asked, his voice thick. He had not finished with Pomponia’s filly, nor had he taken the time to wash her scent from his loins. The effect of smell and beauty was causing stirrings within him that were rather inappropriate.
Terentia withheld the smile she felt forming. She knew damned well what effect she was having on this wealthy but virile man who had risked his life to try and save her husband’s. “I have been trying to run my husband’s businesses in his absence, but I am running into difficulties. Some are the result of the accusations, and some the result of the brigand problem to the south. The markets are drying up, our costs are rising, and certain senators are tending offers to buy the business- offers far under its actual worth. I need an influx of cash to keep running, but nobody will lend to the wife of a flown traitor.”
Aulus nodded. He had been in the same boat after Bedriacum. A political exile. But he had come out of it with the help of Caenis- he was now the praetor peregrini.
“How much do you need?”
“I would need nothing if the brigand problem went away,” she cautioned, “”but as it is I will be destitute within six months if I cannot find twenty talents to cover expenses.”
Ouch! “I had spent a large portion of my liquid assets in campaigning for my office,” Caecina reminded her. “I have the wealth to extend, but not in cash. I would have to sell some assets to generate the denarii you need, and that is a very large favor indeed.”
“Then I have a second proposal,” Terentia said, moving her hand from atop his to his knee. “As praetor you can have my husband declared dead. His note said he was fleeing and would most likely never return as long as he was a suspect. Helvidius is dead- killed because of these accusations. Thus Titus will never return. If you have him declared dead, his bank accounts would become mine. That would cover some of the costs. And as his widow and beneficiary, I would have the full rights to share my fortune with my new husband, who can salvage what I cannot- the legacy of my dead husband.”
Declaring a citizen dead was the purview of the urban praetor, but Bassus was a friend. He would do it... “New husband?”
She moved her hand a bit higher. The smell emanating from his loins was affecting her, too. The movement under his toga grew stronger, revealing her effect upon him. “You were the only true friend of Titus,” she said huskily. “And the only one who has not shunned me. Your political star is rising, Aulus Caecina, and your business sense as well. I know that you desire me- your body betrays you in that- and it has been a long, long time since I have enjoyed the pleasures. I would have you marry me to preserve our fortune. I can promise to be as faithful to you as I was to Titus, and as energetic in bed as those floozies who visit you three times per week.”
“You know about them?” he asked suddenly. They had always been so discrete.
“I know about them, and you may continue to entertain them,” she promised. “That is how desperate I have become. I would do anything- even sharing my husband with tarts from the Forum in our own bed- to avoid having to sell my dead husband’s businesses to the likes of Flavius Domitianus or his cronies, the very men who brought him down. That is how little choice I have.”
Her desperation hit him like a hammer. He nodded. “I will be in the Forum Romanum this afternoon. I will talk with praetor Bassus then.”
“I will make the other arrangements,” Terentia promised. “Come to dinner tonight, and all will be ready.”
“Tonight?” he gasped. “That is quite fast, is it not?”
She caressed his thigh once more then withdrew her hand. “The ceremony will need to be planned- a priest hired, and an augur. That will take time, true,” she said. “Tonight we dine and explore how to salvage the business once you arrange the declaration, and maybe explore other needs I have that need tending by a man with whom I shall share a life.”
Caecina nodded. He hardly dare trust his voice. “Until tonight, then.”
Terentia smiled coyly and rose. “Until tonight, Aulus.”
And then she departed. Caecina felt the stirrings within, and was suddenly glad he had bade Pomponia’s servant wait. She would now be gleefully earning her pay. Terentia had restocked hormones in his body he thought exhausted since the death of Caenis.
Outside the home, Terentia picked up her escort and moved quietly toward her own home a few houses further along. Her mind was set, and her body tingling with anticipation. Soon the Burrius fortune would be in her hands, and the men who brought her husband down would not benefit from it. She slipped into her atrium, dismissed her slaves, and retired to her bed chamber.
Gaius Mallius sat up from the bed and pulled the sheet back to allow her entry.
“How did it go?” he asked. He could tell from her scent that she was aroused.
“He will have Titus declared dead,” she reported as she crawled into her bed. “And I shall prostitute myself to him tonight to seal the marriage plans. I expect within a week we will no longer be able to meet here, dear Gaius.”
“I shall miss you, Terentia,” he said, caressing her curls with one hand. Then his hand slipped to her exposed breast and cupped it. He kissed it tenderly. “I shall miss you very much indeed.”
Terentia kissed him, and let her hands run over his body. “I gave him permission to continue to use the hussies,” she whispered as his hands moved lower. “He will be busy three nights per week. I do not intend to stay in the house while he entertains them. So you shall not miss me that much.”
She moaned softly as he began his ministrations to her body. “Oh Gaius,” she moaned. “Aulus has the better body, because he trains it constantly, but it is your touch for which I yearn. Are you sure I must marry him? I would rather marry you.”
Mallius continued working her body as he replied gruffly, “I would rather you married me, too, my dear. But if you did, then we would be happy together, and the man who brought your husband low would escape your retribution. You will only see vengeance as the wife of a prominent man- and Caecina is the only unmarried magistrate in Italia.”
She moaned softly under his touch. She felt her juices flowing, and he did as well. It would soon be time.
“Then I will marry him with no regrets,” she said, then added savagely, “Now give me what my body needs, while there will still be time left over afterwards to prepare this room for the next session!”
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