his head in mock disbelief and smiled as he saw the almost-hidden look in Caro’s eye.
As he turned back to the door, the three remaining family members filled the portal. Balbina stepped forward and Fronto crouched to hug her.
“Will you come back soon?”
The legate grinned.
“I will be here in December, at the latest. I try to be away from home during the Saturnalia, as my sister tends to become a little disapproving of my behaviour during the festival, and Galronus tells me that the following day they have a huge festival to a horse goddess called Epona in Gaul.”
Balbus nodded.
“In Massilia they have a full day of horse races and feasting.”
“Yes, I suspect that’s what Galronus has in mind.”
He stood once more and Corvinia reached out and embraced him.
“It has been good to see you again, Marcus. We shall have rooms prepared for you and your friends from the Ides of December onwards, but do not be reticent. Come early if you wish it. Please pass on my regards to your family.”
Fronto smiled as they separated.
“Should you have the chance to visit Rome next year, do call in. My mother would be more than happy to meet you, I’m sure.”
He turned to Balbus.
“Another farewell, eh Quintus?”
The older man smiled.
“A temporary one. Two months and I’ll see you again. Corvinia might even let me join you and Galronus at the circuit.”
“I doubt it” she replied with a sly smile.
Fronto grinned at him.
“It feels like I’ve only been here a minute. I would stay on, but there are things that need my attention at home. You understand?”
Balbus nodded.
“Go help Priscus look after your family. Tell him I asked after him.”
“I will.”
The small group spent a moment in silence before Fronto took a deep breath and picked up his bag of freshly laundered clothes.
“Right. Off to jolly old sea we go.”
With a smile, he turned his back to the villa and strode out to the waiting party. He was amused to see the reactions Lucilia was causing. Crassus was openly admiring her, Varus had a strange smirk on his face as though he were weighing her up in some way, and Crispus was looking almost anywhere but directly at her.
“Very well gentlemen, and lady of course. Shall we depart?”
Caro bowed respectfully.
“Just throw those on the cart, Caro. You don’t need to lug them all the way to the docks.”
The slave looked across at Lucilia hopefully and she smiled at him.
“Go and look after father.”
Caro carefully stacked and wedged the luggage in the cart and then delicately helped the young lady up into it before bowing and returning to the villa.
Watching the family in the doorway, waving their goodbyes, Fronto smiled a last smile at them and clambered up onto Bucephalus and trotted off after the party that had already begun to descend the gravelled path down toward the bustling metropolis below.
Falling in at the back, he stretched and leaned back, exposing his face to the late autumn sunlight before glancing once more with some trepidation at the rocking boats in the harbour and the churning surface of the Mare Nostrum.
“She’s going to cause you trouble.”
He blinked and turned to see the grinning face of Varus, riding along next to him. It took him a moment to realise that the man was speaking of Lucilia and not the sea herself.
“She’s going to meet a suitor in Rome. If anything, I’m just a chaperone.”
Varus laughed.
“I think you could be in for a surprise there, my friend. I saw those looks of hers. Keep your drawstring tight and your bedroom door locked.”
Fronto glared at him.
“That’s
“My point precisely” the man replied with a grin.
Fronto turned back to face the party ahead. Lucilia rode almost regally, her travelling cloak having already fallen slightly to reveal pale, creamy shoulders. He swallowed hard and flashed a nervous look across at Varus, who merely grinned and nodded.
The legate of the Tenth, veteran of numerous wars, recipient of the corona civica, and senior commander in the army of the Praetor Julius Caesar, groaned and heaved once more as what was left of his stomach contents disappeared into the roiling waves.
“I feel bloody awful.”
Crispus smiled sympathetically.
“You’ve gone a very curious colour. I can’t decide whether it’s green, yellow or purple depending upon the light.”
Fronto glared at him and spat angrily into the water.
“Charming of Varus to offer me a nice fatty piece of pork, just when…”
He stopped talking and threw himself against the rail, making retching sounds.
“Stop thinking about it. He was only doing it for a joke. He didn’t know you were as bad a sailor as this.
The legate lifted his head once again to glare at his young friend.
“Don’t mock your elders.”
The two men fell silent, a friendly smile on the young officer’s face as he patted Fronto on the shoulder sympathetically.
“You poor dear.”
Fronto turned to stare in surprise at Crispus and then realised the voice had come from elsewhere. Of course. Feminine.
Lucilia strode along the deck, her gait steady and rolling with the pitch of the deck as though she had been at sea all her life. Fronto grimaced.
“I’m alright. Just a little seasick.”
“I shall leave you in my lady Lucilia’s capable hands while I return to the table.” Crispus laughed.
Fronto shot him a desperate glance, shaking his head barely perceptibly, but the man slapped him on the shoulder, grinned, and strode off back toward the wooden housing at the rear of the large merchant vessel that served as dining room for the travellers.
He tried to straighten, but the strength seemed to have flooded from him and instead, he slumped against the railing and wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist.
“You really do appear to be very unwell. You’ve been vomiting for almost an hour.”
“Thanks for noticing.” Fronto grumbled. “Crispus is the only one who felt it worth coming to check on me. I could have been turning inside out or thrown up my liver by now.”
Lucilia gave him a gentle smile.
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a little seasickness; bad, yes, but hardly terminal. It may surprise you to hear that strong, unwatered wine, with the addition of ginger, is a traditional cure for the ailment among the Greek sailors in Massilia.”
