Sword of Rome

Epilogue

Valerius opened his eyes, but the darkness was as total as the grave. So, not Elysium, then, but the inside of a tomb.

‘How does it feel to be dead?’

He started at the unexpected voice in his right ear. ‘Better than the alternative, but my head hurts. Did you have to hit me so hard?’

‘Another scar to add to your collection.’ Serpentius rose and went to the door, drawing back a ragged curtain to allow a shaft of moonlight into the hut. ‘I made it look real, that’s all that matters. Everything went as we planned. I turned the blade at the last moment, but they needed to see blood. It helped that we were fighting on top of two who’d gutted each other — one man’s guts looks exactly the same as another’s.’

Valerius lay back and closed his eyes. His throbbing head cleared for a moment and he felt as if a spear had pierced his chest. She was lost to him for ever. ‘So it’s exile then,’ he said wearily. ‘A new life. I have always wanted to see the mountains of your home and you have always wanted a servant.’

It was an old jest and should have brought a smile, but when he finally spoke Serpentius’s voice was grave.

‘Word reached the village yesterday that the legions of Syria and Egypt have hailed General Titus Flavius Vespasian as Emperor and the Balkan units who would have fought for Otho have joined them. They say they’re already marching on Italia to bring Vitellius to battle.’

So, more war, more bloodshed and more death, but, oddly, Valerius felt a wellspring of hope. There was still a chance. He would do what he did best, fight, and defeat his old friend. He would regain his honour and win back Domitia. He turned to the Spaniard.

‘So it begins again.’