“I don’t want to go, Tubruk,” the boy cried, sobbing in terror and confusion. Tubruk firmed his mouth, deaf to his pleas.

“Right then,” he said grimly, and took hold of Octavian by his tunic, bringing the strap down on his bottom with a snap that echoed around the yard. Octavian pulled madly to get away and yelled incoherently in a wail, but Tubruk ignored him, raising the strap again.

“Tubruk! Stop that!” Cornelia said. She had come out into the yard to see the source of so much noise and now faced the pair of them, her eyes blazing. Octavian used the moment to yank his tunic from Tubruk’s grasp and ran to her, wrapping his arms around her and hiding his head in her dress.

“What are you doing to the boy, Tubruk?” Cornelia snapped.

The estate manager didn’t reply, stepping close to her to grab hold of Octavian once again. Even with his head pressed deep in the cloth of her dress, Octavian sensed him coming and skittered out of the way behind her. Cornelia used her hands to hold Tubruk at bay in a frantic surge of energy that made him take a step back, his chest heaving.

“You will stop this at once. He’s terrified, can’t you see?” Cornelia demanded.

Tubruk shook his head slowly, his eyes flickering up to hers. “It’ll do him no good when he’s grown if you let him hide behind you now. I want him to remember this and I want it to come back to him the next time he thinks of stealing something.”

Cornelia bent down and took Octavian’s hands in hers. “What did you take this time?” she said.

“I only borrowed his sword. I meant to put it back, but it went blunt and before I could sharpen it, Tubruk came back,” Octavian wailed wretchedly, watching Tubruk out of the corners of his eyes in case he made another attempt to lay hands on him.

Cornelia shook her head. “You damaged his sword? Oh, Octavian. That’s too much. I have to give you back to Tubruk. I’m sorry.”

Octavian screamed as she detached his fingers from her dress with firm strength and Tubruk took hold of his tunic again. Cornelia chewed her bottom lip unhappily as Tubruk brought the strap down four more times, then let Octavian run away into the soothing darkness of the stables.

“He’s terrified of you,” Cornelia said, looking after the boy as he ran.

“Perhaps, but it was called for. I’ve let him get away with things I never would have stood from Julius or Brutus when they were boys. He spends half his time in a dream world, that one. It won’t have done him any harm to have his bottom warmed. Maybe next time he looks to steal, it will slow his hands a little.”