The Rose and The Roman

Chapter Two.

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“This is disgusting.” Blandus groaned as they entered the large Saxon village, quickly a small cloth made its way to his face as he scanned his surroundings, “People live like this?”

Albus looked over to his other companions who rolled their eyes while other’s clenched their jaws. Blandus had made Senior Centurion through a little work and a lot of connections, unlike those around him who’d worked hard since day one and came from villages similar to this. 

“I see why I was picked of course, I mean look at you.” He snorted, “But seriously, I’d prefer not to.”

“Blandus, do your duty with a smile.” Albus snapped, having had enough of his ramblings and complaints for the week.

“Speak like that again Albus Octavius and your hand will be staying here without you.” He snapped, turning forwards and setting his shoulders in a proud manner as we reached the centre.

Albus turned to his Juan, his closest friend and nearly burst into laughter, they’d seen Blandus try and chop a man’s hand off; Juan had ended up doing it after Blandus had hacked at the man for ten minutes they both knew he wouldn’t embarrass himself again.

“Albus, translate for me.” He ordered as the chieftain approached looking sullen. “Tell him, we’re here to take what is ours and be done with it.”

Albus fought an exasperated sigh before gripping the man’s arm in greeting. “I’m sorry about my Captain’s manners; he’s a weed of a man whose father bought his position.”

“Maybe I should’ve let my son’s kill him on the approach.” He stated looking around Albus as Blandus refused to leave his horse. “Who are you?”

“The translator.” He stated, “He doesn’t think people can speak more than one language.”

“He’s more of a fool than I’d thought, I am Aethelwald.”

“Albus Octavius, my mother was named Freyja.”

“Mine also.” He stated acknowledging the man as kin. “Come, tell your men to enjoy the wine. My daughter will be out momentarily.”

Albus nodded before following the chieftain through his village and into his hut, Blandus joining them fifteen minutes later when it became obvious no one was going to pander to him. He shared a small joke with the chieftain at Blandus’ expense before his four sons entered.

“My son’s; Ceolwulf, Brice, Fyren and Edwin.” Aethelwald stated, pointing to them in turn. “Your sister’s husband, and her protector.”

The oldest turned from Blandus to face me, his green eyes sparking with anger, before hissing in old Saxon earning him a smack from his father.

“My wife taught the oldest three old Saxon before her death.” He explained in Latin to Blandus, who looked insulted at his use of the language.

“Blandus.” Albus warned as he saw his hand itch closer to the sword at his waist. “Truce.”

“I am your superior Albus; you’ll do well to remember that.” He growled glaring over at the lesser centurion who simply rose an eyebrow.

“Esma’s waiting.” The second son, Brice stated from the doorway, holding a hand out of the door.

Albus watched as the young, red headed man lead through a woman with hair as red as her brother’s. She was a waif of a woman yet she possessed an aura that made her brother’s fall in line instantly, even the hot headed one who’d not stopped his glare since entering the hut.

“Well then, let’s get this thing started.” Juan stated coming into the hut and pulling out the documents which had been written out by the secretary of the fort. “Everything is in order, as agreed last month.”

“Very well, Esma sign here.” Aethelwald stated holding out the quill to his daughter, a smirk spreading across his features. “All my children can write.”

“Some better than others, hey Brice.” The daughter muttered, Albus nearly laughed as he saw the eldest hold her twin back by his arm.

“Right, now that’s done. Off we go.” Blandus stated swirling his own elaborate mark down on the parchment and standing up again.

“I’ve prepared a feast.” The chieftain stated.

“Which, we wouldn’t dare dishonour you by not attending.” Albus stated standing up, using his height to an advantage.

“Never.” Juan smirked, “And it would be rude to take the lady away from her village without a proper send off.”

“Exactly.” The Eldest son smirked, “Or the customary welcoming into the village of the son in law.”

“By any chance is it a fight?” Blandus sneered looking over at her brothers un-amused.

“No, just a show of arms.” The red headed son grinned.

“I’m recovering from an injury so Albus will take my place.” He shrugged waving them off.

“I love parties.” I stated and Esma smiled over at me, I winked down at her and patted Juan’s shoulder before leaving ahead of the others.

Esma turned to face the smaller roman who’d signed the documents, her husband. He didn’t have an easy smile like his companions, nor did he seem eager to actually be here. She smiled over at him, hoping he’d send her a smile back.

“Don’t even try and be my friend, you’re scum.” He spat pushing past her, before turning around and taking her upper arm in a vice like grip. “Actually, come to think about it, you’ll come in handy where I can’t take a man.”

Esma understood every word despite it being spoken in Latin and her soul broke, shattered into tiny pieces. She’d set her heart on being on friendly terms with this man and he’d practically shoved it back in her face.

“Go say goodbye to your family so we can leave as soon as possible.” He ordered, Esma nodded and followed him from the tent, fighting the urge to cry and kick her legs in frustration.

A loud cheer erupted from the middle of the village, as they rounded the last corner Esma tiptoed and saw Ceolwulf and the Spaniard standing in the middle with their sword’s raised. “Flavius, what the hell is this, we’re leaving.”

“First we celebrate.” The Spaniard laughed as Wulf brought his sword down upon his blade causing the man to laugh and join in.

Esma laughed leaving her fuming husband and sitting amongst her brother’s and some of the other Romans who seemed more at leisure than her husband.