“Better,” he said. “But remember to make the carving thinner still.”
“If I do that, I might lose the grip on the knife,” she said.
“If this part is not done right, your creation will not fly,” he said.
She did as he said and tried again.
He nodded and let go of her hands. “Better. Much better.”
“How long did it take you, the first time?”
He grinned and settled on the ground, cross-legged. “My first model was a failure. The fifth time, on the other hand, worked well. Plus, I had the help of a friend who knew how to coax the wood. I was far more used to bashing metal things, she said, and needed to learn a lighter touch.”
She. Who was this Roman woman? His wife?
Argh. She shouldn’t care, yet she did. She took several deep breaths, admitting to herself that for the first time in a long time, she desperately wanted a man’s hands on her. She wanted Ceti. It could be his size, so intriguing, but it was also the gentleness of his touch, and the way he talked to her with such respect.
Her father would lose no chance to crow to her about being right. He would point out the long line of men that she’d dismissed as uninteresting, only to find herself fascinated by a Roman, of all people. Her clan would never accept Ceti. A daughter of the daughter of the eldest of wolves did not lie with Romans.
But Sky wanted to.
They sat carving under the canopy for the rest of the afternoon until her fingers and wrists grew tired and her back cramped up. Some of the bolder children came to Ceti after a time, holding out their pieces of wood, clearly wanting instruction.
He got them started, much as he’d helped her, and treated their questions seriously. They lost their shyness quickly and started chattering to him and among themselves.
“Your children listen carefully,” he said.
“Roman children don’t?” she asked.
“Some of them do.” He frowned. “It depends on their parents.”
“Their parents only? Not their clan?”
“We don’t have clans as you do,” he said.
“What a strange place a Roman town must be.”
He nodded. “Sometimes, it is.”
By late afternoon, the sun had started to set and his small aquila looked nearly done. The children were called away to help prepare dinner for the common table. They called their thanks as they scattered. Many of them held their new little aquilas tight in their hands like a prized possession.
“I need some water.” She stood. “You must be thirsty as well. If you fetch and carry with me, we will only need one trip.”
“Of course.”
She handed him two ceramic pots. He examined them with great interest.
“You use these to carry water?”
“Yes, and for cooking.”
“Not for bathing?”
“We do that in the river.” She frowned. “What do Romans do?”
He smiled. “We bring the water to us, which has caused some problems with your people, Domina. It can be disruptive to the land to build aqueducts though I think the baths are worth it.” He looked up at the cliffs. “Here, though, it would be easy to construct a system to automatically water your crops and provide drinking water.”
She shook her head. “We have water here.”
“But it’s not at your command. I could save your people time and effort.” He took two of the jugs in his hand.
“Even if it would, the village elders would call it Roman and therefore wrong,” she said.
“That is too bad,” he said.
****
“I think they’re finished as they can be in one day, Domina,” Ceti said, holding the small aquila out to her. Despite drinking the ice-cold water, his body felt warm. That was due to proximity to Sky, no doubt.
She took it back, holding it lightly. “Where can we launch them?”
He pointed at the cliffs. “At the top of that would be the best place to catch the wind.”
She smiled. “Up, then, Ceti. Follow me.” Her smile turned to a frown. “But remember your promise.”
“Of course.” He had no intention of hurting her or causing her trouble. Ever.
Sky shooed away the children who were left. He told them to try waiting for a strong wind before trying to fly their aquilas.
He’d been surprised at how well they’d paid attention to his instructions. But he should’ve known better after his work with the Mahicans and the Vikings. Just because they weren’t Roman, it didn’t mean they weren’t intelligent. These children were certainly more well-behaved as a group than Roman children.
The cleverness of the Lenape was visible in other ways. The village didn’t have running water, but it had been built within easy distance of fresh water fed from the cliffs. They’d also been very careful with the longhouse construction. The wooden slats of the walls and roof had been cut the exact same length, a feat since they lacked good measuring instruments. And the use of natural clay and caked earth sealed the homes from the elements. The only thing the longhouses lacked was an air-tight door.
He could construct one for them in only a few hours but, as Sky said, they would never use it.
Sky led him up a steep trail cut into the side of the hill. The Lenape had placed rocks here and there on the dirt path, for better footholds. Romans would have carved steps in the cliffs. Ceti had to admit the Lenape way preserved the cliff’s natural state better.
He had trouble keeping up with her brisk pace. She must be used to climbing.
It was a joy to watch her move. All his life he’d studied ways to make machines move easily, to provide power. And all his work would never compare to how perfectly a human body moved.
Especially Sky’s body.
Her personality reminded him of Dinah, but physically, Sky reminded him of Sif, the Vikings’ spiritual leader. Like Sif, Sky had long, dark hair that fell straight all the way to her waist. The real difference from Sif lay in the color of Sky’s skin. Sif was as pale as any of the Vikings. Sky’s skin was like the bark of a young tree, warm and light brown.
Ceti used a low branch to brace himself on a sharp curve in the trail. He continued to watch Sky, remembering the touch of her hand. Her skin was soft and her fingers nimble. Her mind was so quick that she grasped concepts faster than any he knew in Seneca, save perhaps for Dinah.
He could teach her so many things about engineering.
His body wanted to teach something completely different. He frowned. Maybe she was already familiar with sex. For all he knew, Sky had more experience with lovemaking than he did. The Mahicans married, but they seemed to have few restrictions on behavior among single adults, save that the parents must take responsibility for a child.
And those children stayed with their mothers, the opposite of what would happen among Romans, where the patriarch had full authority. If he were Lenape, he suspected Sky would rank far above him. Worse, to their minds, he was a Roman and therefore an enemy.
He had little to offer Sky, save his knowledge.
Keep it that way. Anything else would only lead to trouble.
They stopped about three-quarters of the way up. She pointed to some bushes off to the side, under a tree growing sideways on the steep hill.
“Those produce the best berries on the island,” she said.
He stepped closer.
“Careful. Watch for the thorns.”
He frowned. “I thought blueberries didn’t have thorns.”
“The smooth berries don’t. These are blacker and bumpier. They have a slightly different taste as well.” She sighed. “Too bad we will have to wait for the summer to taste them.”
She started walking again.
Too bad I will not be here to pick them with you, Domina.
Dinah would be amused at his infatuation. She’d often teased him about being interested in nothing but his toys, as she called them. He sighed. It would be nice, someday, to have a partner, as Dinah and Gerhard s
hared their lives.
Sky reached forward and grabbed the edge of a large rock. “The last part is treacherous. Careful. Keep low to the ground and don’t lose balance.”
He could feel the sweat dripping down his back as he pulled himself up the side of the massive rock jutting out from the hill. Hill, hah. This was a cliff.
A few more steps and they cleared the trail and stood at the top. He brushed dirt off his knees and looked up.
It was worth the view.
To one side, he could see the Manhanituck River that flowed past Seneca, down to Manhatos and out to the ocean. Directly ahead, he could see all the way west to Manhatos. He could even see the small tower that he’d erected on the hill that held his workshop.
He tried to memorize the direction. It would be useful to know which way to escape.
There seemed to be a new ship at anchor just out from the docks of the East River. He squinted, wishing for his far viewer. The sails were furled, telling him nothing.
But his stomach dropped as he made out the imperial eagle carved into the ship’s prow.
Tabor had been right. The empire was coming for them. But Tabor had said there would be a fleet. This was one ship. Where were the others?
He pointed. “Sky, have you seen any of these types of ships recently?”
She frowned and half-turned away from him. “Which ship? I don’t know what you mean.”
Maybe her eyes weren’t as good as his. “The one at anchor in the East River.”
She squinted and took a long look. Finally, she said, “No, I can’t say I’ve seen it before. Doesn’t one Roman ship look more or less like the other?”
“Mostly but...” He shook his head. She was right. How would she know a merchant ship from an Imperial Navy vessel, especially at this distance?
But he knew what it was. It meant he had to get back. Fast.
Sky waved her hand. “This view must pale before what you saw when flying.”
He shook his head. “No, it was...different. I couldn’t see that well.”
“Why not?”
“I was moving so fast everything was a blur.” He smiled, remembering how surprised he’d been by that. He shouldn’t have. He’d known how fast the aquila would be going. He’d just not connected it to how his eyes would water in the wind.
“It was only at the end of the flight, as I began to slow down, that I could see clearly.”
Now, if he’s had some sort of eye guard to protect his vision...He needed to put that on his list of projects.
Imperial Fleet first. Focus, Ceti.
“Would you do it again?”
He grinned. “Definitely. But I need to work on the landings.”
She laughed, a happy sound that made him want to push aside the worry about the imperial ship.
“Why do you want to go back so quickly, other than work on your aquila?” she asked.
He frowned. How much should he tell her? “I need...I have a job to do.”
“A...job?”
The word didn’t translate exactly. “I’m charged with tasks that help protect my people.”
“Ah. I understand that.” She nodded and looked out in the direction of Manhatos again. She frowned, all sign of her earlier laughter gone.
“Can we launch the aquilas now?” She handed him the models that she’d kept in the pouch slung over her shoulder.
“Hold them a bit. I need to check the wind.”
Their fingers brushed as she took them back. He swallowed, and wished he dared touch her again. He cleared his throat and thrust a hand in the air. A slight breeze stirred the trees near them.
“You see the way the leaves are being blown?” he asked.
She nodded. “We throw them in that direction?”
“Yes, otherwise you launch them against the wind and the model will be tossed about by the breeze.”
“How did you insure that you were not flying against the wind with your aquila?”
“I set the launch platform on a rotating circle,” he said. “I adjusted it depending on the wind currents.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
She didn’t understand. He wished he could show her. “Why don’t you launch both of our models, one at a time?”
“With pleasure.” She grinned, animated once again. She stepped to the very edge of the cliff, not seeming to care about the steep drop, and tossed the first model over the edge.
It was the one she’d made. He watched, holding his breath, as the wind caught it and pushed it higher. He wanted it to have a good, long flight. But the model flipped after a few seconds and tumbled in the air, falling fast. It began a slow, lazy descent, nose downward, to the fields stretched out before them.
She sighed. “What went wrong?”
“Likely one side is heavier than the other. I made that mistake, too, the first five times. It’s hard to do this without instruments to measure width and weight. Try the other,” he said.
“Yours will work better,” she said.
He smiled. “Only because I’ve had practice. It’s no trick or special talent, just hard work.”
“If it were no special talent, everyone would do it, Ceti,” she said.
She drew back her arm and tossed it harder than she had the first one. It flew out straight from the cliff longer than the first model, then the wind current caught it, pushing it toward the river. He held his breath, hoping it would make it to the water but then it too flipped. Not from wing to wing, like the first, but from back to front.
Sky’s eyes widened. “What was wrong with that one?”
“Too much weight at the back. As I said, I did it by memory.”
She put her hand over her eyes, to watch as his model aquila was tossed toward the river by the wind. “It’s a lifetime’s work, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ll do what I can to get you back to it, Ceti,” she said.
“Why do your people hesitate to let me go?”
She turned away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. “What you know about Shorakapkok could be reported to your people and used in an attack on them.”
“We won’t attack you.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” She shrugged. “But, eventually, Romans will gobble up the land on this island like a greedy shark, leaving nothing but a carcass with your buildings on it.”
All we want is more farmland. But that was not a persuasive argument. “Most of the Romans in Manhattan were born here, as your people were born here,” he said. “Why shouldn’t they try to survive and feed themselves?”
“The Romans consider themselves owners who have every right to keep it all for themselves,” she said.
“Not all the Romans believe that.” He bit his tongue. He didn’t want to argue with her, not when this might be the last chance they had to talk.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “Deep Water, who leads here, feels you are an enemy. I fear she won’t free you.”
“How do I convince her that I’m not a danger?”
“Being good to the children helped,” Sky said. “That is, unless their parents become annoyed at little aquilas being tossed all over the place.” She smiled again.
He nodded.
If they wouldn’t let him go, he had to escape. That imperial ship was only the first of many.
But he could not escape tonight. His body ached too much and he suspected the climb down the cliffs would finish him.
He sighed. When he did run, he’d have to leave his aquila behind.
He’d also have to leave Sky behind. He would miss her more than the aquila.
He could recreate the aquila from his notes, though it would take a long while.
He could never recreate Sky.
Chapter Seven
Sky took one last long look at the ship anchored on the East River.
It was one of Legate Makki’s ships. She recognized the design even from here.
It felt wrong to deceive Ceti and no
t tell him of the legate’s ships. But she didn’t feel capable of disobeying her mother on this, at least not yet. She turned back to Ceti.
The sun was low in the sky. The villagers would be looking for them soon. They might even assume Ceti had run away if she didn’t bring him back before dark. It was time to go.
But it was so calm here, so peaceful, and she sensed this might be her last chance to speak to Ceti. He’d given her his word not to escape when he was with her. That meant he could be planning his escape as early as tonight, after she’d handed him back.
“When you go back, I’ll miss you,” she said.
“And I, you.” He smiled, a tentative expression, as if he didn’t want to claim any happiness. That made two of them.
He cleared his throat. “You could visit Manhatos. It’s not far.”
I would love that.
“It’s only two days walk or one day’s sail,” he said.
“It’s a world away.” She shook her head, trying to chase away her growing desire to fling herself at him.
“So it is,” he said.
She reached a hand up to his face to touch the newly grown hair.
May the gods strike me down if this is wrong.
No rain fell from the sky, no lightning bolts smashed down, and the earth remained still under her feet. The gods didn’t appear to be interested in showing their displeasure with her. Yet.
She stroked the hair on his chin. She’d expected it to feel harsh and scratchy but instead it was like bird feathers.
“It’s soft,” she said.
He took her hand, kissed the back of it—thrills went down her spine—and cleared his throat.
“When the stubble begins, it’s scratchy. Now it’s started to grow in more.”
“How do usually you keep you face free of hair?” She wanted the question to sound casual. But her voice wavered.
He kept hold of her hand. She could feel her face grow hot and stirrings of desire wound around her body.
“I use a sharp blade.”
She winced. “Ouch.”
He grinned. “It’s not so bad. We oil the skin to keep the blade from cutting the face.”
“Ah.” She could only manage the single word. Fear, desire, and excitement clogged her throat.
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