Roman Equestrian I: Venator
by A. M. Swink
Britannia, AD 59. Decimus is a long-serving senior centurion who dreams of retirement in Rome. Luciana is a Cornovii princess devoted to the freedom and survival of her tribe. Connected only by a passion for horsemanship, the pair could not be more ill-matched. After a deadly conflict thrusts these enemies together, each is determined to fight their desires and triumph over the other. Who will ultimately control the other's heart?
But Decimus and Luciana are not the only ones on the hunt for supremacy; a desperate struggle over the province is beginning to simmer to a boil. There are whispers of mysterious Druids fomenting unrest among the western British tribes, whose inter-tribal divisions threaten to subsume them. The future of the Roman legions in the province is suddenly thrown into doubt as casualties begin to mount. Decimus and Luciana find themselves entangled within a web of characters, Briton and Roman, playing with Britannia's destiny to serve their own ends.
The hunt for power is on, where only one side can emerge triumphant. But just who among these hunters will end up hunted?
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Excerpt
The princess shielded her eyes and carefully observed the pair in the brightening dawn light. The centurion's stallion moved as powerfully and gracefully as his conformation had suggested. His long strides, in stark contrast to Belena's, effortlessly devoured the ground beneath him. He arched his neck and responded willingly to the bit, bending to his rider's touch almost as soon as it was asked. And that rider's touch…
Luciana could hardly contain her smile. Decimus, unlike most Romans, was no heavy-handed brute in the saddle; he handled the reins with a light, expert touch, his arms connected to his horse's mouth. His legs didn't dangle aimlessly but held straight and firm on either side of Aquila's barrel; their cues were so subtle that Luciana could hardly see them. His seat seemed attached to the double-pommelled saddle, as though he were an extension of the animal. His military bearing was as straight and true as when he marched on foot. The pair made a noble picture galloping back and forth against the dawn.
Suddenly, Aquila rose into a half-rear and shied. Decimus wrenched the horse's head back down and maintained his seat as the stallion rapidly side-stepped to the right. He brought Aquila to a halt and quickly slid down to inspect the ground.
Luciana frowned, squinting. 'What is it?'
Decimus stood, holding a small creature in his arms. Aquila threw his head up and backed away another few steps. 'It's a hedgehog.'
'Poor thing. We've disturbed his gathering.' Luciana eyed the twitching little nose nestled between the centurion's sturdy forearms. He held the hedgehog gently, his coarse hands taking care not to distress it. Luciana lifted her gaze to Decimus's face and a small shudder coursed down her spine. He was frowning down at the animal in contemplation, his handsome features shadowed by his helmet.
Suddenly, Decimus caught a flash of red moving across the corner of his vision and he lifted his head in its direction. 'You!' He shouted to the stable orderly who'd just appeared toting a barrow of manure behind the stable block.
The boy dropped the handles and hurried over to the centurion's side. 'Sir?'
He held the hedgehog out to the boy. 'Remove this creature from the grounds. It's disturbing my horse.'
The orderly tucked the hedgehog under one arm, drew a hasty salute across his chest, and obediently scurried away.
Decimus had already leapt onto Aquila's back and walked the horse over to the offending patch of grass. The stud snorted uneasily but crossed the ground at his rider's prompting. Once the centurion had walked Aquila over the spot enough times to reassure the horse there was no cause for alarm, he urged the stallion into a canter. They rode back over to where Luciana stood, looking as perfectly matched as they had before.
Luciana smiled, watching Decimus slow to a walk. 'You must be careful, Centurion. You were almost charming for a moment.'
'Infernal little scavengers,' he muttered gruffly. He halted beside Luciana and patted the horse's neck. 'I assure you that wasn't normal behaviour for Aquila. Nothing ever disturbs him.'
'Except for hedgehogs, apparently.' She folded her arms and gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling in wonderment. 'And am I supposed to believe that the Roman army trained a foot soldier to ride like that?'
He effortlessly dismounted before her. 'I was a stable lad growing up in Rome.' A wistful, faraway look stole across his eyes before they returned to her. 'The retired decurion who ran the place paid me in lessons.'
Luciana's gaze softened. 'You were eager to learn, no matter the cost?'
'Something like that.' He held the reins out towards her. 'Would you like a go?'
Her expression suddenly brightened. She eagerly snatched at the reins and jumped onto Aquila's back. Luciana didn't even spare a momentary backward glance at the centurion. She clapped her knees around the horse and took off down the straight, bent low over his neck.
As soon as she felt the horse's lolloping gait beneath her, Luciana's grin widened. Aquila practically felt like a coracle beneath her, rising and falling on the waves of the wind. The ground streamed past in a blur. So this was what flight truly felt like! She lifted her head above the stallion's short, rippling mane and let loose an exhilarated cry.
With just a flutter of a touch upon his reins, the horse smoothly turned a half-circle, checking his momentum with grace. Luciana marvelled at the sheer power within Aquila's haunches, the rhythm of his strides, his sensitivity to the bit. The centurion did not just have this horse trained, but he'd conditioned him to a level of fitness that rivalled the man himself.
She flicked one eye upon the figure stationed far down the intervallum. He was, indeed, built as sturdily as his horse. What would it feel like to sense his back course beneath her; to have that solid mass respond to her touch as docilely as Aquila's; to feel his power pulse within her? Was he likewise capable of taking flight?
She tore her gaze away and refocused upon the centurion's incredible animal. Aquila smoothly transitioned between his gaits: gallop to canter to trot to canter to walk to trot to gallop. Each patterned footfall was a joy to sit. She laughed gaily, never wishing the ride to end. Caring for Aquila would be no chore; it was a privilege she would savour.
Author Bio
A native of Dayton, Ohio, A.M. Swink grew up obsessed with two things: books and horses. After a childhood of reading, writing, showing, and riding, she moved to Lexington, Kentucky to complete a degree in equine science and management and a degree in English literary studies. She now works in Lexington as a college professor of reading and writing. In her spare time, she has travelled extensively around the UK and Ireland, exploring ancient sites and artefacts, as well as tracing her own ancestry. She is proud to be descended from County Cork's Callaghan clan.
When not writing, she can be found collecting and showing model horses or enjoying her favourite British comedy programmes.
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