It was more of a whimper than a howl. She heard it in the bushes as she passed and increased her pace. She had fallen behind the group as they skirted a wheat field, distracted by what she thought were early berries. Now she heard the soft patter of footsteps behind her and turned to find that a dog was following her.
He was one of the shepherding breeds, his long brown hair interrupted with patches of white. She could tell by the enthusiastic swing of his tail that he was not dangerous and by the deep contours of his ribs that he was on his own.
Arria tried to shoo him away, gesturing with her arms and emitting a series of harsh hisses which had absolutely no effect. Soon he was rolling on his back at her feet and she was squatting to scratch his stomach. He gave a joyous moan, then righted himself and licked beneath her chin. He cocked his head as if to say, ‘Well?’
That night, they were sitting shoulder to shoulder around the fire, watching a rabbit roast on a spit.
‘We cannot keep him, Arria,’ Clodius was saying. ‘We are halfway through our funds already. We do not need another belly to fill.’
‘But he will not eat much, Brother. And he could help keep us safe.’
‘She is right,’ added Grandmother. ‘He can be of great use as a guard at night.’
‘Will nobody take my side?’ Clodius said, sending Epona a pleading look, but he found no aid. Instead, Epona flashed him a crooked grin and gestured to Clodius’s lap.
‘I fear that the choice has already been made, Clodius.’ The dog’s head had come to rest against the stump of Clodius’s thigh. The creature was peering up at Clodius with unabashed longing.
Clodius masked the grin that seemed to threaten at the edges of his lips. ‘He knows that I shall carve the rabbit, that is all. He thinks that if he shows his deference he will earn a piece of meat.’
‘Is he right?’ Epona challenged, her eyes twinkling.
If Arria had not seen what happened next with her own eyes, she would never have believed it. Her brother carved off a piece of meat and offered it to the dog. Cautiously, the dog accepted the bite, his whole body wriggling with delight. Arria knew exactly how the hungry beast felt.
So did her brother, apparently, for he quickly cut off another piece and gave it over to the grateful pup. It was not long before the dog had curled himself up between her brother’s legs and began to doze. Her brother patted his head affectionately.
‘Brother, I fear you are in danger of falling in love,’ said Arria.
Clodius glanced briefly at Epona, then smiled. ‘I suppose I am.’
‘What shall we call him?’ asked Arria’s mother, cuddling baby Faustus in her lap. ‘How about Cerberus, the Hound of Hades?’ She made a scary face at little Faustus, who emitted a tiny coo.
‘Or Argus, Odysseus’s loyal beast,’ said Grandmother.
‘I vote for Romulus...or Remus,’ said Epona with a wicked grin. ‘I think that would be quite poetic.’
‘Apologies, Familia,’ said Arria. ‘But I may have already given him a name.’
Clodius threw up his hands. ‘I was beaten before I even began!’ He stroked the dog’s fur. ‘Well, what is it?’
‘First you must promise not to laugh,’ Arria said. She scanned the faces around the fire and took a breath. ‘His name is Trajan. Trajan the Merciful.’
Grandmother was the first to break her promise, though her laugh was more of a deep groan, beginning in her belly and ending in her nose, which emitted a sudden, loud snort. Soon the whole group had descended into laughter, and even Trajan added his howl to the chorus.
Trajan proved a worthy companion. He guarded them day and night, keeping them together as they trekked and patrolling their camp when they stopped. Whenever Arria went off to hunt or forage for food, Trajan would follow behind, and the two would always return with a prize. In the night, Trajan would spread his protective presence amidst his flock, but every morning he awoke at Arria’s side.
On the kalends of May, they hired a boat across the Hellespont Strait and crossed into the Roman province of Thracia.
The first stage of their journey complete, they made an early camp outside a small town and determined to rest a few days and celebrate their success.
The next day, Arria was gathering firewood when she discovered her brother standing at the edge of the glade, watching Epona groom Ephesia.
‘She is a beautiful creature, is she not?’ asked Arria.
‘Indeed she is,’ said Clodius.
‘So sure-footed.’
‘I was not speaking of the horse,’ said Clodius.
‘Clodius, Arria, there you are!’ cried Epona, hailing the two. ‘Watch this!’
Arria and Clodius watched as Epona took several steps away from the horse and then made a large circular gesture with her arms. Obediently, Ephesia turned around, making a full circle in the grass. Epona gave a proud bow.
‘Brava!’ Arria exclaimed, clapping. Ephesia whinnied, then reared back on her legs.
‘Whoa there,’ said Epona, calming the excited horse. Epona grabbed the mare by the mane, swung on to her back and the two broke into the forest at a gallop.
‘She will never be tamed,’ Arria said, chuckling.
‘Epona has been working with her. She grows tamer by the day,’ said Clodius.
‘I am not speaking of the horse,’ said Arria with a wink.
A crimson blush coloured his cheeks. ‘Your perception is matched only by your wit, dear Sister.’
‘Happiness strikes where it pleases, does it not, dear Brother?’
There was a long silence. ‘Sister, I fear I have wronged you,’ Clodius said at last. ‘And now I intend to make things right.’
In that instant, Arria heard Epona’s voice. She was galloping back towards them. ‘Arria, you must come!’ she called breathlessly. ‘It is Trajan. He is in trouble.’