Queen of the Night

to the Pictish chief as a bridal present, to seal an alliance between the tribes.
    'Usually when we took women captives they were shared out and then sold in the marketplace, but this was different. Postulus and Stathylus were both deeply smitten. At first the Golden Maid was frightened, but she soon realised there was very little difference between Pict and Roman, we all have our brains where our balls are, so she played one off against the other. At the same time our scouts reported increased activity amongst the Picts. Furious at their loss, they were hurrying south, a war band of between thirty and forty men. They launched one attack upon the fort but we beat them off. An argument broke out between Postulus and Stathylus about what should be done. Postulus was all for handing the girl back and making a peace treaty, buying the Picts off with some silver from the pay chest and a few jars of posca. They'd be content and leave us alone. Stathylus was different. He accused Postulus of treason, of conspiring with the enemy. Postulus became very drunk. I don't know what truly happened, but he retreated to his chamber. Stathylus took over and did a really stupid thing. He sent out a scout to find out exactly what was happening, and the poor bugger never returned. We later discovered the Picts killed him before they came after us. Stathylus knew the mind of the Picts; the Golden Maid was their woman, so if they found out she'd lain with Romans they'd kill her too. Stathylus, well, he was…'
    'He was persuasive.' Secundus spoke up. 'He was very eloquent. He pointed out that Postulus had failed to be a good officer. If he was so drunk, we should leave him alone, trap the Picts, kill them and claim the glory. The rest of our story is true.'
    'Is it?' Claudia asked. 'You are sure you butchered every single Pict?'
    'According to Stathylus,' Secundus spoke up, 'we did.'
    'What do you mean, according to Stathylus?'
    Secundus gestured at Crispus. 'After the fight, we were sent out on a scouting mission. When we returned, the dead Picts lay heaped in a great pile outside the southern gate. They were drenched in oil and burned. There were no prisoners.'
    'And the Golden Maid?' Murranus asked. 'What happened to her?'
    'When we attacked the war band,' Crispus replied, 'the Golden Maid had been shackled in a wood. Stathylus made the stupid mistake of bringing her down to see the dead. She was truly beautiful,' he whispered. 'She had hair as gold as ripened corn, pale ivory skin.'
    'Have you seen Cassia?' Claudia asked. 'The former courtesan? She's a close friend of Urbana, General Aurelian's wife.'
    'Yes, I have.' Secundus half smiled. 'Beautiful.' 'Was she like that?' Claudia asked.
    'A little,' Secundus conceded, 'but Cassia is not the Golden Maid. For a start she is too young; secondly she doesn't look like her. More importantly, I know what happened to the Golden Maid.'
    'What?' Claudia asked.
    'As I have said, Stathylus brought her down. She looked at the dead and cried. We celebrated. We found old Postulus hacked to bits, but of course we all kept quiet; technically we were guilty of mutiny. We burned his corpse as well. The reason we all agreed to it is that Stathylus had promised how, once we'd annihilated the Picts, we'd abandon the mile fort and march south to search out General Aurelian. Postulus had wanted to stay on the wall. Once he was dead, we'd won our great victory and were only too pleased to go.'
    'What happened?' Murranus insisted.
    'Well, as I've said, we celebrated. We had some wine and food. Stathylus lay with the Golden Maid. We heard her shrieks as he pleasured her. We'd camped outside the mile fort; next morning we found the Golden Maid had hanged herself from a beam inside.'
    'Hanged herself?' Claudia asked.
    'Shame.' Crispus spoke up. 'Because of her, her husband and his entire war band had been destroyed. She knew what would happen next. Stathylus would either sell her in the market or pass her on, so she'd taken a piece of rope and hanged herself.'
    'You are sure she was dead?'
    'I am certain. We burned her corpse and rode south, and that was the last time we ever saw that mile fort, the Picts or the Golden Maid. We became heroes, saviours, warriors. No one dared tell the truth. Strange,' Crispus mused. 'I always felt more guilty about Postulus than the Golden Maid.'
    'I have asked this before,' Claudia said, 'but is it possible that someone from that Pictish war band survived?' Secundus shook his