Between Two Worlds [Excerpt Only] | NOW A PUBLISHED NOVEL

Prologue

He blinked. 'Justus Julius Septimius. And thine?'

'Brenyn.'

He hesitated before speaking again. They were far from Iceni lands, and the Romans would certainly come after her if they discovered that she was still alive.

'Brenyn, thou must come with me,' Justus said urgently, holding out his hand.

She took it, her hand small and fragile in his large, calloused one. 'Where wilt thou take me?'
'To a British hunting companion of thine own tribe. I am certain he will keep thee safe until thou canst return home. Now come....'

~~~

Justus opened his eyes. How simple everything had seemed then—simple, and yet not so. His mother had raised him to know what was right, what was courteous, but even now he sometimes wondered if the consequences were worth what he had done.

Gazing into Brenyn's green-gold eyes in the weeks that followed the escape, Justus knew that he could never love another as he did her. Though Roman soldiers could not legally marry under Roman law, many of them had common-law wives. And so Justus wedded Brenyn according to the laws of her people, and she bore him a son.

He had kept all of this hidden from his fellow legionaries for a year now, especially from his uncle, who was known for his hatred of the British. With war on the horizon, if someone found out that he was wed to Boudicca's daughter, Justus would be considered guilty of treason. But he had to warn Brenyn of what was coming. He had sworn to protect both her and their child, and not even his loyalty to Rome could come before that oath.

He rose from his cot and crossed the ground between his barracks and the legate's lodging. As head of the legion, the legate was permitted a larger and better living space than his officers, yet the dim room was lit only by a small window in the outside wall and an oil lamp on the legate's table.

Justus raised his hand in a stiff salute. 'Ave, Quintus.'

The young legate raised his head. 'Ave, Justus. What brings thee here?'

'I wish to beg leave for a few hours.'

Quintus' cold, dark eyes looked him over for several seconds. 'Where wilt thou go?'

'Since when does the legate require such information?' Justus took pains to speak respectfully, but he could not help the undertone of urgency which crept into his voice.

'Since I received news of the Trinovantes' uprising. I cannot suffer news of our march upon them to be made known. And I know that thou hast many friends among the Britons.'

'If I swear by Mithras that I will breathe no word of our counter-attack at Camulodunum, wilt thou let me go?'

Several tense moments passed. Cold sweat trickled down Justus's back, but he looked Quintus steadily in the eye.

At last, the legate straightened and clasped his hands on the table before him. 'I know thee to be a man who abides by thy word. If thou wilt swear by Mithras, I will permit it. But thou must be back before curfew.'

'I swear by Mithras that I will speak nothing concerning our plans for attack, to Briton or Roman.'

'Very well.' The legate returned his attention to the parchment before him, signaling with his hand for Justus to depart.