Free Legionary: The Scourge of Thracia (Legionary 4) by Gordon Doherty Page A

outside to the flitting shadows of passing drunks and ill-disciplined soldiers. ‘I’m here with the XI Claudia.’
    ‘You’re . . . alive ,’ Felicia stammered. ‘The Claudia live?’
    ‘I’m here. I’m alive.’ He grasped her by the shoulders, unmindful of his mucky hands.
    Felicia’s fair skin was now paler than moonlight. ‘Lucilla, would you leave us please?’
    The older woman sighed and nodded, then made for the tent flap. She did pause, however, just long enough to lift the dropped scalpel and replace it on the table, shooting a cautionary glower first at Pavo’s face and then at his crotch.
    When she had left, Felicia’s brow wrinkled and she panted in shock. ‘But I heard rumours in the height of summer. They said that the XI Claudia had been lost in the desert.’ She looked him in the eye, more tears welling as she pulled a small purse of coins from under her green robe. ‘They even gave me your funeral pay-out.’
    Pavo blanched at this, recalling instantly the moment from his youth when a scowling legionary had sought him out and dropped Father’s funeral pay-out into his hand. It had almost crushed his spirit. Almost. ‘I’m sorry that happened. I should have got word to you, somehow. The first chance I had was the Cursus Publicus messenger I paid to take word to you from Antioch. But he was too late, it seems. I . . . I’m here now.’
    ‘Then you should have this.’ She tucked the purse into the belt of his damp, muddy tunic, then searched his eyes. ‘And the others?’
    Pavo shook his head. ‘Only four returned from Persia with me. Tribunus Gallus, Zosimus, Quadratus and Sura. The rest gave their lives bravely.’
    Felicia closed her eyes as if stifling a show of grief, then clasped his hands inside hers. ‘I need to know. Did you find him?’
    The question caught him off-guard. So much had changed in those months in the burning sands. ‘I found him,’ he replied, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. ‘He was alive, Felicia. My father was alive.’
    Her eyes widened. ‘Then where is . . . ’ she started in a whisper, then faded away as she saw Pavo look away. Instead, she simply embraced him again.
    Pavo felt her warmth against him, sensed his heart beating a little faster, felt his loins stirring once more. He pulled back, cupping her chin and moving to press his lips to hers. But he halted, inches away, recalling something from moments ago. ‘You said I was a friend.’
    She frowned. ‘What?’
    ‘To that harridan who was determined to hack my bollocks off. Just a friend, you said?’ he backed away, shaking his head, the lust of moments ago crumbling.
    ‘Pavo?’ Felicia replied, her face knitted in confusion.
    Pavo felt that creeping jealousy tingle inside his chest again as he pieced it all together. ‘You were talking to her about some primus pilus. About love?’
    ‘Pavo,’ she tried to interrupt.
    But he was having none of it. Already he understood what had happened. He and the XI Claudia had been missing for only days, probably, when she had given him up for dead and thrown herself at another man.
    ‘ Pavo! ’ she roared. It was a cry that nearly knocked the rest of the mud from his flesh and clothes. Even the dull babble outside seemed cowed momentarily. And her paleness of a moment ago was suddenly consumed by a flushing red band across her nose and cheeks. Her look was flinty, to say the least, and Pavo was frozen by her demeanour. She strode to him, reached up, scooped her hands around the back of his head and pulled him down, pressing her cherry lips to his.
    Pavo’s mind flashed with confused voices and thoughts. His loins were more single minded. He pressed his body against hers once more and they remained interlocked for what felt like an eternity. At last, they parted. She held his gaze with an earnest one of her own. ‘I am in love . . . with an utter fool of an optio,’ she said with a wistful smile.
    ‘Then what was all that about?’ he