Page 91 of Taming the Eagle

Fenella tried to calm the rapid rise and fall of her breathing, but when she reached the parade ground before the principia, her heart started to hammer in her ears. Both the fort headquarters and the commander’s residence beside it were ruins.

Drawing up before the praetorium, Fenella swung down from the saddle.

“Gods,” she gasped, her voice catching. “What happened here?”

But more importantly, what had happened to those who’d once lived here?

Reaching up, Fenella clutched at her heart, which now pounded fiercely. She then moved forward, up the ash-covered steps to the praetorium.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” a gravelly voice intruded.

Grasping the knife at her waist, Fenella whipped it free from its sheath and spun around. Her gaze alighted upon a thin man with wispy black hair streaked with grey. He’d spoken in her tongue, and one glance told her he was one of the local Damnonii tribe. He was barefoot and wore a tunic belted at the waist and frayed leather trews. The tunic was sleeveless, revealing faded tattoos upon his upper arms. Across his front, he wore a bulging leather bag.

“I’ve already been inside,” he rasped, eyeing her with interest. “A pillar nearly fell on me when I started poking around.” He then patted the bag he carried. “Those miserly bastards didn’t leave much behind them, but I’ve managed to scavenge a few things.”

Fenella stared at him, cold washing over her. The man was a vulture. Nausea rose, and she swallowed bile. “What happened?” she croaked. “Was there another attack?”

The man shook his head, grey-blue eyes gleaming. “No, they just packed up one day and marched away.”

Relief hit Fenella so hard that she gasped. Rubbing her breastbone, she glanced around her at the devastation. She still didn’t understand what had happened here. “But why is everything burned?”

“That’s what the Caesars do, woman,” the man muttered. He was losing interest in her now, moving toward the blackened shell of the principia building. “They torch their forts when they abandon them so they’re no use to anyone else.” He spat on the ground then. “Good riddance to them.”

Taking this in, Fenella resheathed her knife. Her pulse slowed now that she knew Justin and his household hadn’t all been burned in their beds. “Do you know where they went?”

“South, of course,” the man replied, glancing back over his shoulder. “There are whispers that they’re building a great wall that will stretch from the east coast to the west.” His face screwed up then. “Typical … only the Caesars would be so arrogant.”

XXXIII. BEFORE THE WALL

Vindolanda fort, the Wall,

The Caledonia-Britannia border

“I’M GIVING YOU both your freedom.”

Justin repeated the words he’d uttered upon entering the kitchen, yet Kahina and Aedan just stared at him, poleaxed, as if he’d turned into a satyr before their very eyes.

Sighing, Justin glanced down the table to where his cook and house steward sat. They’d both been buttering slices of bread, but now gaped at him as well. “Ava, Caius … do you bear witness to this?”

Caius recovered first, closing his mouth and nodding mutely.

“Of course,” Ava murmured a moment later.

Satisfied, Justin shifted his attention back to Kahina and Aedan. “That’s it then … you’re both free now.”

Kahina’s eyes went wide, her expression stricken. Likewise, Aedan’s face had gone taut. Justin frowned. He didn’t understand. This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected from either of them. He’d imagined they’d be overjoyed.

He’d thought long and hard after his argument with Aedan a few days earlier. He’d seethed at first, and had kept his distance from the Brigante lest he lashed out at him. But, eventually, when his anger calmed, a gnawing disquiet had set in.

The night before, he’d lain awake for a long while wrestling with his conscience, but as the first fingers of light filtered into his cubiculum through the shuttered window, he made his decision.

“Are you sending us away, Commander?” Kahina gasped. “Have we angered you in some way?”

“That’s a ‘no’ to both questions,” Justin replied, his irritation rising. He glanced back at Aedan, noting the man’s shocked expression. “If either of you wishes to stay on, as servants, you may. However, you will receive a wage, as Ava and Caius do.”

He halted once more, his gaze searching their faces. And as the moments passed, realization dawned in both their eyes.

Aedan then murmured an oath in his own tongue, his eyes gleaming. “Thank you, Aquila,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.