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‘How did it go, sir?’ Pulex opened the door behind him and stuck his head inside.
‘What?’
It took him a few moments to comprehend what his Optio was asking and then the question struck him as hilarious. What could he say? That he’d achieved almost nothing during his long ride—he certainly hadn’t discovered anything new—and then he’d done his best to destroy his career by kissing the soon-to-be-wife of a senior officer? He doubted that Pulex would see the funny side.
‘Not very well.’ He focused on the relevant part of his answer. ‘The other forts all say the same thing. They’ve had no sight or sound of anyone for weeks.’
‘What does Nerva think?’
‘He has other things on his mind.’
‘You mean Scaevola?’ Pulex rolled his eyes. ‘
I noticed he was drunk again.’
‘You’ve seen him? Where?’ Marius paused with his cup halfway to his lips. He’d overheard Nerva saying that he’d ordered Scaevola to bed on his way out of the villa.
‘In Arvina’s barracks, gambling.’
‘Damn it.’ He put his cup down again.
‘I’d leave him to it if I were you, sir.’ Pulex looked faintly alarmed. ‘He’s an angry drunk.’
Marius made a face. That was undeniably true. Scaevola was surly enough when he hadn’t had an amphora of wine poured over his head. Tonight he’d be positively savage. He was also the very last person in the legion he wanted to see again, but if the Tribune was disobeying orders then Nerva would want to know and he had a duty to report it. On the other hand, he had absolutely no intention of returning to the villa. If he saw Livia again, then he had no idea what might happen.
No, he glowered to himself as he threw his cloak back over his shoulders, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly what might happen. That was the problem.
Which meant that he had to confront Scaevola himself.
There were four barrack blocks between his and Arvina’s, giving him sufficient time during the walk to fully appreciate the folly of what he was doing. He was going to order a senior officer to bed. If Scaevola hadn’t been his enemy before, he certainly would be after this.
He set his jaw grimly, offering curt nods in response to the hails of various legionaries as he passed, making his way determinedly towards Arvina’s block, Pulex trailing a reluctant path behind. Just as his Optio had said, Scaevola was gambling inside, sitting on a stool in one corner of the Centurion’s quarters, flanked by two of the Seventh Cohort’s officers.
‘Marius!’ Arvina, a round-faced Centurion with a shock of spiky blond hair, greeted him cheerfully as he entered. ‘Come and have a game.’
‘Yes, come in.’ The other Centurion, Drusus, winked at him. ‘We’ve just switched to tabula. Scaevola thinks his luck’s about to change.’
Marius took in the scene with one glance. Scaevola was too drunk to notice the conspiratorial looks of the other officers and he knew there was no love lost there either. In one short month at the fort, the Tribune had managed to offend and alienate nearly all of his comrades. Arvina and Drusus were merely taking revenge in the only way that they could. He couldn’t blame them even if he did have to put a stop to it...
‘He’s played enough.’ He jerked his head at Scaevola.
‘I’ll say when I’ve played enough.’ The Tribune’s expression was beyond sullen now, positively burning with hatred. ‘You might be Nerva’s pet at headquarters, but I outrank you here, Varro.’
Pet? His temper flared at the insult. The man really was asking to be taught a lesson the hard way.
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Arvina seemed to notice the tension in the room suddenly, looking between them with a newly wary expression. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘No. I want to play a round with Marius.’ Scaevola jerked his chin up belligerently. ‘If he’ll lower himself to gamble, that is.’
‘You don’t seem to have anything left to stake.’ Marius folded his arms with a look of contempt.
‘Maybe not, but I have someone. Nerva might be blind, but I’ve seen the way you look at her.’
‘Her?’ Only years of practice enabled him to keep his expression neutral.
‘Livia Valeria. Or are you going to pretend that you don’t want her?’
He clenched his jaw at the challenge. Apparently the Tribune was more observant than he’d thought.
