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moonless night.
    • • •
    Africanus was livid. They were dead! He’d given strict orders Magnus and his wife were to be captured and brought alive to Ravenna, to suffer and die at Honorius’s whim. But a lone, idiot assassin had killed them in their sleep, and now, he, Africanus, would pay for the bungler’s mistake!
    Bassa, you fucking Thracian, may you be cursed to the deepest pit of Hades!
Africanus had strangled him that morning. Would Honorius mete out the same punishment to him when he delivered the news of this colossal failure?
    It had taken Africanus a day to be notified, another to reach Portus. Wretched fate! His fury only increased as he strode toward the inn, a troop of legionnaires marching behind. Leaving his men on the street, he and his second-in-command entered. The owner and his staff nervously waited inside.
    “Where are the bodies?” Africanus bellowed.
    The innkeeper blanched, then turned and sprinted up the stairs. Africanus and his officer followed him to a third-story room.
    The bodies lay on the bed, hidden by a bloody blanket, the open windows doing nothing to alleviate the stench of death. Africanus tried to lift the blanket, but it stuck to the remains. He signaled to his officer for help, and together they peeled back the covers. The corpses had already started to darken and bloat. They were twisted into grotesque poses, the woman’s mouth frozen in a silent scream.
    The innkeeper gagged and ran from the room.
    Africanus stood and stared. Praise all the gods; it was not Quintus Magnus or his wife! Smiling at his second-in-command, he left the room.
    The innkeeper waited in the hall, visibly shaking. “Sir?”
    “What is it?” Africanus bluntly asked.
    “Did you find those you sought?”
    Africanus exchanged a glance with his officer. “No. The dead are not the
legatus
and his wife.”
    The innkeeper pursed his lips. “Then I have something to show you, sir.”
    Africanus and his second-in-command followed the man downstairs, to a second-story room. Inside, lay an abandoned
legatus
uniform.
    “I was baffled to find this here, and you might also be interested to know my stable boy has disappeared,” the innkeeper said. “I believe — ”
    “They switched rooms,” Africanus finished for him. He looked at the open window. “Was the murder noisy?”
    “Very much so. The woman screamed.”
    “Then they left by the window as soon as they heard the commotion. They probably got horses from your missing stable boy, and are certainly long gone by now.”
    Africanus stared at the window, thinking. He would find out exactly where they were heading. It wouldn’t be difficult. Tongues were probably already wagging in this town. Soon they would be wagging for him, spilling the truth by means of bribery or force — the method mattered not.
    He grinned and good naturedly smacked the innkeeper on the shoulder. He had his life back. From now on, he would personally hunt Magnus and his wife. He would never let the task fall to anyone else, not ever again.

Chapter 4
    The Castle, Barcelona, Spain
    Barcino’s
castellum
was sheltered by the town’s great Roman walls, but it was close to the sea and, therefore, damp in winter. Placidia wondered if she would get used to this, having spent many months in Gaul, in the city of Narbonne, which was slightly inland. She rubbed her belly, feeling her babe stir. Narbonne would always have a special place in her heart, for this child had been conceived there, and it was the place where her official marriage to Athaulf had taken place. It had been a sumptuous royal affair, not especially to her taste. She much preferred the intimacy of their first ceremony, so warm and loving, celebrated among the tents of the Visigoths.
    A guard knocked, then entered her chambers and bowed low. “O most gracious Queen of the Visigoths, the nurse Elpidia requests an audience with you.”
    “Please tell her she may enter.”
    Oh, dear Lord.
Placidia shook her head at