Page 85 of Ensnaring the Dove
Colombia gave a snort, an answering smile tugging at her lips. “If I am, it’s your fault.”
EPILOGUE. NO REGRETS
Two and a half years later …
AEDAN WAS WALKING toward Onnum, towing an empty handcart behind him, when the ground started to tremble. He’d just delivered a row of shelving to a Roman farmer whose villa lay outside the fort, and had taken Dere Street home.
Turning, he caught sight of a plume of dust rising to the west. And as he looked on, pilums and standards appeared, bristling against the pale-blue summer’s sky. The outlines of riders at the front of the column appeared then, followed by neat ranks of soldiers marching in rows behind.
The sight of newcomers didn’t surprise Aedan. A month earlier, the Wall just outside Onnum had been damaged after a Caledonii raid. Repairs were taking longer than expected, and Commander Juventus had no doubt contacted one of the surrounding forts for assistance.
Moving off the road, Aedan watched the column approach.
A tall man, silver lorica and helmet gleaming in the noon sun, rode at the head of the column upon a spirited black horse.
And as the rider drew closer, Aedan stiffened, recognition dawning.
He knew that face.
It had been nearly four years since he’d last seen Justinian Aquila. However, the man hadn’t changed much.
Standing by the side of the road, Aedan set his cart down and waited for him to pass by. He wondered if Aquila, who commanded Vindolanda, would glance his way. And even if he did, he’d likely not even recognize him.
When Aedan had served him, his hair had been cropped short in the Roman fashion. Yet now it was shaggy and bleached by the sun.
The ground shook, the rattle of armor and creak of leather drifting toward him.
The first riders were almost past Aedan when a deep voice rumbled across the road. “Aedan?”
Aquila raised his hand, bringing the column to a rattling standstill behind him. He then drew his horse to a halt. The beast tossed its head, pawing the ground impatiently, yet the commander held it easily in check.
Aedan also recognized the man riding next to Aquila—Marcus Camillus, his second-in-command.
Marcus grinned at him, and Aedan found himself stepping forward, a wide smile splitting his face. He’d always liked Marcus.
He shifted his gaze back to Aquila. The man’s distinctive golden gaze was just as intense as he remembered. Aedan’s mouth quirked once more. “Good day, Aquila … Camillus.”
Aedan and Aquila locked gazes then, for a few moments, before the commander spoke once more. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you.”
Aquila studied him. “Do you live at Onnum?”
“I have for nearly three years now.”
“I thought you would have returned to your kin?”
“I tried that … but then discovered there are some rivers you can’t cross twice. There was no place for me there.”
Aquila’s gaze shadowed before he nodded.
“I have no regrets now though,” Aedan assured him. “I have a good life in Onnum and a trade. I’m a carpenter and run my own workshop … two streets back from the southern gates.”
A smile warmed Aquila’s face. “And have you found yourself a wife?”
“I have … I’m wed to a Roman woman.”
The commander’s head cocked at this admission. His smile then widened. “You’ve found your place in the world then?”