“Now you see this man is of value, sober of mind and judgment. Sariah provides much needed distraction for him, a willing ear to his groans.”
“This may be true,” one of the men mused. “We will proceed as planned. Give her lessons on what to ask this man, let us see how far we can tread this unplanned road.”
Upon this pronouncement, Sariah fled the temple area and wound her way through the corridors to the large bath, where the attendants converged after sacrifices had come to an end.
Only a few women remained, lounging in the water since they had the time and place to themselves. Davisha was not among them. Worry grew in Saria’s heart as she retraced her steps to her room.
Had the young woman survived her first day of ritual and sacrifice? They had not been able to even glimpse the event before being readied for service. Only whispered stories from other sisters who had gone before gave any clue.
When Sariah opened the door, she saw nothing amiss, hearing only sniffling and shuffling. Davisha’s dark head emerged from a tangle of blankets in the furthest corner of the room. Her hair lay in perfect curls from the steam of the baths.
“There you are!” Sariah rushed to her side and Davisha held her at arm’s length. She turned sorrow-filled eyes to Sariah.
Saria’s heart stuttered and her hands became cold. This did not look like her friend, like the girl she had seen only last night. She eased to the floor and sat beside Davisha, words having failed her.
Long moments passed between them until Davisha sat straight and wiped the tears from her face. “I will not let this break my heart.”
“What happened?” Sariah whispered.
She shook her head. “There is no use in speaking of such awful things. You have escaped this fate for now and you should thank the gods for your good fortune.”
Sariah thought of Titus and nodded. She reached for her friend’s hand and they held tight to each other. “You are safe now. Come, stay with me like a sister. Let us take comfort in friendship since there is little else of value.”
They bundled themselves under a small mountain of blankets, speaking of trivial matters until sleep stole over them. Davisha closed her eyes first and in the moments before Sariah followed, she vowed to find a way out for them both.
TITUS WOKE WITH A START, his hand grasping the hilt of his gladius as he sat upright. He gasped for breath. Only a dream, a fictional recreation of the night he’d been roused from his bed and interrogated over his brother’s ill-advised love affair.
He shook himself and tossed lukewarm water from the basin on his face. He’d been forced to accept the familia’s punishment for one member’s poor choices. Once he righted these ridiculous wrongs, the nightmare would disappear.
The sun had not yet risen but the hour drew near. Until the others rose, only his wayward thoughts and memories accompanied him. He made his way to the courtyard and took a deep breath of dry summer air.
His gaze drifted toward the temple on the hill. Sariah lay sleeping somewhere inside those walls. She, with the mahogany hair and porcelain skin. The shaky smile saying what words could not. How soon could he go back to her? Only another day.
A means to an end, no matter how beautiful, no matter how he craved her. And he did crave her. His body tightened at the thought of lying with her again and he reminded himself several times a day he must not feel for her plight.
To be sure, no more pitiful plight than hers existed in all the empire. He felt sympathy for her and nothing more, or so he told himself. He anxiously guarded against the advent of her slipping into his blood like honeyed wine.
“Another nightmare?” Emmaus stepped out beside him. The poor man had been on the bad end of Titus’s persistent bad dreams more than once. “The same?”
“The same.” Titus nodded, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Always the same. Nothing a hard day’s work will not cure.”
“And a night with your goddess?”
Titus hung his head in mock shame. “You see through me?”
“No one blames you, yet all envy you.” Emmaus laughed. “Every man in this regiment wishes he received such invitation.”
The men needed no further diversions. “Women are a distraction from duty, Emmaus.”
A beat bounce between them. “Tell me about her.”
The words, once started, could not be stopped. “She is slender and strong as a reed. Her voice, when she sings, silences the birds of the air.”
“You sound sick with love.” Emmaus chuckled. “I but wanted to know how her physical skills compared.”
Titus’s face heated as he admitted, “This is a strange thing. Temple girls become women knowing they shall live a life servicing men and they are taught those skills well. They are open in a physical sense yet closed to the ideas of family and relationship other women embrace. The idea of service guides them.”
“Not unlike a soldier,” his friend offered.
Titus agreed. “Duty, yes, like a soldier, hers is a different kind of life, to be sure.”
“Yet your little goddess is ready to flee all she knows on a whispered promise. You must be hung like a stallion.”
Titus chuckled, then changed the subject. “Tell me about this provincial governor who holds the ear of the high priestess.”
“His name is Miraj Al-sindha. He owns the textile manufacture on the east side of town. He is relatively new to the city, not quite five years in business, well placed and appointed.”
“What of his personal life?”
Emmaus answered, “He has no family to speak of. I hear his wife died without providing children and he has not yet remarried. He spends much time at the temple, although he does not advertise the fact, as Anath is no longer the goddess of choice in the city.”
“Find out with whom he spends his time, and where. There are others, she has told me of their numbers. They must gather somewhere outside the temple.”
“As you command.” Emmaus bowed. “I will assign a good man from the night watch to keep track of his movements. We will have answers within a handful of days.”
Titus nodded and rose, resigned to starting another long day of tiresome administrative work. Counting kernels of grain did nothing to advance his cause to restore his family name.
Or slack his thirst for the alluring woman who served a goddess in whom she did not believe.
“THEY WANT TO KNOW ABOUT you,” Sariah whispered as her fingers traced the lines of Titus’s face. She lowered her voice even more and admitted, “I want to know about you, too.”
The openness in his expression closed off. Sariah stopped touching him as he stepped away from her. She had managed to ruin the meeting only moments after his arrival.
“What is it?” she asked. Being forced together, could she not learn about him? Or did they pretend? He must allow her to take some small comfort from him.
“Is there a place we can go, outside?” He turned to her. “This room, while lovely, seems too small tonight. I wish to see the stars.”
The stars? She did not recall the last time she’d seen the stars. “There is one place, behind the altar, opening into the sky.”
“Can you go?”
Could she? She’d only been there for temple duties, under supervision. No one would be there now. Would Irrina stop her? After all, the priestess wanted Titus under her spell.
“We can try,” she offered, reaching for his hand as she walked by him, her garments streaming behind like silk ribbons. As they slipped from the room, the matron lowered her eyes and said nothing, so Sariah continued through the narrow passageways until they reached the open floor of the temple, where the sacrifices took place.
Titus pulled on her hand to stop her, and she resisted. “I do not wish to be here, under the gaze of the goddess.”
“What happens here?” Titus asked. “No one will tell us.”
Her stomach tightened, recalling Davisha’s anguish. “If no one will tell you, perhaps you do not need to know.”
Titus curled his fingers around hers and pulled her back to him. He held her tight and looked through her. “I want to know what happens here.”
Sariah lifted her chin as her face heated to find the words to tell him the activities occurring every new moon. She decided base language would do. “They fuck. The women lie here, waiting for the men, who pay to take their turn. The sacrifice is the man’s seed, to be spilled on the ground. This is what happens here.”
“And this makes you angry?”
Sariah pulled in a deep breath. “Anath is not real and this ritual only serves to kill the souls of the women inside this temple.” She tried to pull away from him only to find she could not. “You’re hurting me, Titus.”
Despite their intimacy, she did not truly know this man. The darkness behind his eyes worried her. Perhaps being outside the watchful eye of the high priestess left her vulnerable.
“Women receive no real pleasure here.”
“Some may.” Sariah shook her head. “I could not.”
Not now, when she understood how being with one man felt in her hidden heart. One man who considered her and meant for her to find the good in their coupling.
One man who crushed her against him and lowered his hungry mouth to hers. One man she readily gave herself to, even as she felt the dead stare of the goddess behind her.
“Not here,” she whispered between kisses.
Titus stopped and looked her in the eye. “Yes, here. There will be one woman who receives pleasure in this place.”
Her body responded to his words, wondering what he meant to do, how he meant to pleasure her when her role in this place was to pleasure others.
His hands circled her waist and he lifted her off her feet, placing her gently on the ledge encircling the shrine. She trembled as he gripped her ankles and spread her knees apart, her gown drifting upward, the warm night breeze caressing her bare skin.
His hands followed, pushing the fabric to her waist, exposing her to the night. Gentle yet firm, his touch slid around her hips and down her legs, then up again, over the top of her thighs, circling ever so slowly toward her inner thighs.
Sariah’s heart sped as he inched closer to her sex. He spread her wide, and she whimpered with anticipation, knowing what he would do, wanting him to stop teasing her and taste.
With one lingering glance to her face, Titus lowered his head and kissed the sensitive skin inside her knee. Her body stiffened, then became liquid, melting at the core as he inched closer to the junction between her thighs.
The first stroke of his tongue set her on fire. She gripped the sharp edge of the ledge, a moan building in the back of her throat. Nothing in her training had prepared her for the sheer pleasure as he licked and sucked. When the tip of his tongue teased her bud, she gasped, curling her fingers through his hair to both push him away and pull him closer at the same time.
She wanted more of him, and he did not make her wait, sliding a finger inside her while exploring with his mouth. Her head fell back, and her eyes fluttered closed, giving way to the waves of pleasure building inside her.
His teeth grazed her, teased her, tormented her until she lay back and writhed with pleasure. She didn’t care who heard her moans and cries, she felt outside the confines of her life if only for a few precious moments.
As he moved his fingers in and at a hurried pace, his tongue kept time, pushing her toward a climax she couldn’t refuse and didn’t want to escape. Her body pulled in on itself, tight, ready for climax. As she came, she opened her eyes to the stars above, feeling truly free for the first time in her life.
Titus lapped, tasting her fully as she released, keeping her in a place of yearning as long as possible. The feeling fled on the wind as voices sounded in the darkened passages leading to the forum.
Sariah pushed Titus away and leapt from the ledge. While she had received no instruction to avoid the sacred space, receiving pleasure where so many women sacrificed themselves seemed taboo.
Titus caught up to her and took her by the elbow. Together they ducked down a sconce-lit passage. The cool air and shadows slid over her skin and she did not fight him once she saw they had not been followed.
“This place is a maze,” he muttered.
She slowed and nodded toward a flight of stone stairs ahead, twisting upward and to the right. “I know where I am.”
“Where do they go?” Titus asked, probably considering finding another adventure.
“To the roof,” she explained. “Where women go to jump and kill themselves.”
Stopping in his tracks, Titus turned to her. “What?”
Nodding, Sariah steered him the opposite direction. “There are three times a woman of the temple considers death. First, if she is not selected for service, because she will be driven from the temple to make a home in the streets. Second, when she learns what type of service is required of her and how brutal men can be.”
The truth of her life bounced between them until he asked, “And the third?”
“When her body fails, and she can no longer serve. Only one will supplant the high priestess, one of her own choosing. Many may come and go before Irrina chooses her successor, although some whisper she favors me.”
She’d silenced him, in all his Roman wisdom, and when she looked at him, she saw only compassion. He muttered, “I wish I could free you all.”
Smiling at the sentiment, she both wished the same and knew such a task would prove impossible. Removing only her from the temple would prove difficult enough. “I know what you risk on my behalf. I will not forget. I cannot forget.”
TITUS SWALLOWED HER gratitude, tucking the feelings away in the back of his mind. As he followed her sure steps back to her chamber, he reminded himself of his true purpose and knew what he needed to give her.
When they entered the room, they found a tray of fruit and cheese waiting, as well as deep cups of honeyed wine. A set up for conversation, so they sat on the pillows and carpets and beside each other, neither hungry, playing their roles.
“You asked me to tell you about my placement here,” he began, speaking loud enough for those on the other side of the wall to hear. “What do you know of the emperors of Rome?”
“Nothing at all,” Sariah replied, her tone hushed.
“Two years ago, Rome experienced four different emperors in a single year. Nero, followed by Galba, then Otho and Vitellius. One after the other until Vespasian challenged Vitellius and became ruler. I tell you this because with many powerful men at play, making costly mistakes becomes easy.”
Her eyes widened. “What kind of mistakes?”
“My older brother was appointed to a position of some local power by Vitellius, a jealous man Rome soon feared. He accused my brother of having an affair with his eldest daughter and as punishment, named himself heir to my father’s paltry fortune. You see, in Rome, if your family is brought to shame, everyone suffers. My brother was sent to the mines for a sentence of five summers, and I was pulled from a leadership position in Germania, demoted, and sent here.”
The truth he revealed dawned on her. “This place is your punishment?”
“Yes,” he confided, leaning across the tray. “And I will do what I must to restore honor to my family and regain my position.”
She nodded. “I see.”
He knew not if she believed his words although he’d spoken only truth. Over the course of one troubling and bloody year, he’d hoped Artemis, his brother, would be wise, and escape notice However, in the chaos, finding favor with a new leader became a ritual and Titus did not know if even he could have escaped notice in Rome.
“You are angry with your brother,” she stated. “You should not be. You do not know what he faced.”
True enough. “I know rumors of his affair were true. Vitellius had several daughters with two wives and a handful of servants. Each was supposed to be more beautiful than the last. My brother and I both have a weakness for beautiful women and stark ambition.”
Sariah blushed as if on cue. “Will you stay tonight?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath and planted yet more seeds of information. “Tonight will be my last visit for ten days, as the Legate sees fit to detach me and my men for training on the plains to the west.”
“Truly? Then you will be sorely missed.” She tilted her head as if to ask if he really planned to leave her for this long.
“Truly.” He drained his cup. “My men are bored and have been gambling. He seeks to punish us although he does the same with his advisors.”
“This would not happen if you were in command.” Sariah sowed the information for which he hoped.
“True. When I am able to outfox him, he will be sent to the mines and I will make the unit stronger. I will make Rome take notice of this part of the world.”
Titus turned the conversation to other topics, murmuring into Sariah’s ear how he was sorry to have to go. His heart strained and he realized he would indeed miss her.
Thus, he took his time with her tonight, enjoying the meal, imagining they were sitting in their own home, once they could be together. He drank enough to be attentive and playful with his guard lowered, always aware, somewhere in his mind, of being watched.
He didn’t care, craved normalcy and wanted to put not only Sariah at ease with him, but those behind the scenes as well. They needed him to be comfortable, dependent on Sariah.
And gods help him, he was.
SARIAH STOOD BEFORE Irrina, who scolded her for her brazen behavior with Titus the previous night. “He must not enter the sacred space, he is unclean.”
“Yet you would have me pollute my body,” Sariah quipped.
Irrina drew back her hand and slapped Sariah, who stood tall, taking the blow because she knew she was right. Irrina and her co-conspirators used her for their own ends, not those of the goddess.
“Give report,” Irrina commanded.
She knew better than to lie. “He leaves for ten days, taking half the men to the westerns plains. He says the Legate sends him away because his men are lazy and gambling, yet all the men engage in these things. He leads me to believe there is strife between them.”
Seducing the Roman Page 5