Free Celtic Maid (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 2) by Amy Jarecki

his beloved Rome, it was his duty to set an example. Yes, he wanted the indigenous to settle their disputes and accept Roman rule as their own. They had brought industry, roads, trade and a host of other things to Britannia. But Titus wanted to leave the pomp and arrogance behind. Hubris and tyranny had no place on the frontier.
    He’d hoped Theodosius would see things as he did, but now the border had been secured, it appeared Theodosius might be making the same mistakes in Britannia as his predecessors. After a year of fighting to reclaim the entire island, the great count had not bothered to visit the battlefield. He had sent his centurions to fight the indigenous and overthrow the rebellion. But, alas, Theodosius was his supreme commander, and it was not Titus’s place to question, even though it made no sense to him. Perhaps if the count had been injured or killed, it would have given the barbarians renewed will to fight. Titus shook his head. Even he could not sway to such reasoning.
    He marched down the steps and hailed his guests. “Greetings, Count Theodosius.” Titus gestured his arms wide. “I give you Vindolanda, headquarters of the frontier, gateway to Emperor Hadrian’s Wall.”
    Theodosius stepped down from the chariot and firmly grasped Titus’s shoulders, kissing him on both cheeks. “ Primus Pilus Centurion , you have not disappointed me.” He looked to his right and then to the left. “Yet, I see no signs of skirmish, no deterrent to remind the indigenous who rules this land.”
    Dulcitius jumped down beside the count. “True, we expected the road to be lined with spikes displaying the severed heads of barbarians.”
    Titus bowed his head, trying not to cringe. “Alas, I am sorry to disappoint. Bacchus and I considered the stench disagreeable. We burned the corpses.”
    Theodosius placed his palm in the small of Titus’s back. “Perhaps we can arrange a statement for the locals at our games?”
    Titus deliberated over his leader’s words. Since taking the wall, the local uprisings had been few. He did agree that barbarians should be reminded of Rome’s rightful rule, but why further incense the indigenous simply to showcase their power? It was yet another elitist act. He would rather prove Roman superiority by reinstating law and order along Hadrian’s Wall. “Do you believe it a good idea to entice the indigenous to rebel further?”
    “Rebellion is not the question. Undoubtedly they will rebel. We simply need to show them the strength of Rome. They are a conquered race of men. Respect is due.”
    “Of course, my lord.” Even though he didn’t fully agree, Titus knew better than to argue. He gestured toward the principia stairs. “Surely after your journey you are in need of refreshment. I have found some local wine I trust will meet with your approval.”
    “Local wine? Are you sure ’tis not laced with atropa belladonna?”
    Titus chuckled. “I’ve sampled it myself. Nonetheless, if we lash out at the locals without provocation, the wine could be suspect.”
    Theodosius accompanied him through the thick double-doors. “Titus, I detect a certain displeasure with my tactics.”
    “Not at all. I merely expect the punishment to fit the crime.”
    The count stopped. “And is conspiring to overthrow the Roman Empire an act of frivolity?”
    “Absolutely not. Many a barbarian has been run through with my own sword, not to mention the thousands killed in the reclamation effort.” Titus gestured into the war room. “Elspeth,” he hollered louder than necessary, changing the focus of the conversation. “The wine.”
    The count sat in one of the few padded chairs, and Dulcitius, with his girlishly handsome face framed by blond curls, took the seat beside him. Elspeth, obediently wearing her new gown, entered carrying a jug of wine and three goblets.
    Titus had never cared for Theodosius’s smile. It looked like a sneer as his thin lips revealed yellow teeth—and he grinned widely