by Carol Ashby
Why such concern for her? He could only have carried her since the stallion killed her bearer…less than three weeks. The dead man was at the right rear. Dacius was there today, reaching to help her up after she fell out when he dropped his pole.
He’d stopped to look behind him and then...he stepped in front of her just before the arrow struck him. He deliberately took that arrow so it wouldn’t hit her, but why would he do that?
Her gaze drifted down his body, and her breath caught. Barely healed lash marks wrapped around his side a little below the bandage. Her litter slaves did nothing except carry her, and they were never whipped. She’d gone to Antonia’s right after breakfast the morning after her bearer died. Too early for Gallio to go to the market and buy a replacement, so he would have told Vilicus to pick another slave who was the right height and strong enough.
Maybe a garden slave? The corners of her mouth drooped. Dacius must have been the filthy slave who came too close and then said Aulus was dangerous. He’d acted like he expected her to listen to him, like she should recognize him. If he’d been carrying her, he might expect she would.
He’d frightened her when he came so close that morning. That muscled bare chest, those brawny arms―he stunk of sweat, too. Who wouldn’t have told him to get away?
But he’d been knocked down and whipped for simply speaking to her. She cradled her cheeks as she stared at his closed eyes. Why didn’t she stop that instead of hurrying inside?
Her eyes drifted to the lash marks again. He was only trying to protect her from Aulus. She should have stopped Vilicus and let him speak, but the blood on his back from the first stroke made her head spin.
His jaw clenched, drawing her attention back to his face.
Slaves weren’t always working on the new pool. Where was he then?
Her hand shot to her mouth. That horrible morning when her brother’s new stallion trampled her bearer―a stable slave had jumped between her and the horse’s slashing hooves, thrown a cloth over its head, and led it away. But everything started swirling when she saw the blood on the dead man’s face, so she hadn’t really seen the one who saved her.
She shook her head as she bit her lip. If Dacius had been in the stable yard when Gallio told Vilicus to find a replacement, he’d be the first one the overseer saw. If he’d take a knife and an arrow for her, he’d take on a terrified stallion, too.
Twice he’d come to help her, even though she’d paid no attention to him. He’d only been a slave dressed in the blood-red tunic her bearers wore. Only a slave doing whatever someone ordered him to do. An invisible man playing his part in their household, unnoticed...and unappreciated.
Until today. Today he abandoned his post by the litter to fight two armed men when she cried out. Today he came and saved her.
But why?
The sound of men shouting and cursing came from beyond the door. She swallowed hard and stared at the door until she was sure no one was coming in.
She’d never been out in the city alone. Taurus and Apicula had always been there to protect her.
His quiet sigh drew her gaze back to find his teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut.
If Dacius should die, what would she do?
She shouldn’t go home. Who knew what her brother was still planning? He could have more thugs watching for her, ready to grab her again if she tried. She could maybe go to her sister or one of her friends, but surely Aulus would look for her there.
The litter curtains had been closed, so she had no idea where she was. But even if she did, she wouldn’t know how to get to her house or anyone else’s. Taurus always took care of that.
If Dacius wasn’t with her, would it still be safe to go with the farmer to hide in the country until Father came home? How would she ever get back to Rome after he returned?
How could she know whom to trust...except Dacius?
She chewed her lip as she gazed at the haggard face of the man she’d never bothered to see before. Even with his sun-darkened skin, he seemed pale. How much blood could a man lose before it killed him? If he’d lived this long, did that mean he was going to make it?
His breathing paused, and his closed eyes scrunched. They relaxed as he released the breath.
She blinked several times to stop the buildup of tears.
His wounds were all her fault. If she’d run when he broke the first thug’s hold, they might have been out of the house before the man with the knife could stab him. They might have been gone before the archer shot him.
So much blood lost and so much pain...and all for her.
He blurred, and she wiped the tears away. He should never have been hurt like this. He had to recover. He had to.
She watched his chest rise and fall. Now and then it stopped as his jaw clenched. The start of a moan, but he silenced it so no one outside might hear. Then his chest started rising again.
For what seemed like hours, she sat alone with him, listening to him breathe, watching his pain, and wondering why he had done what he did...for her.
Chapter 17: Not What They Expected
The Secundus villa
Aulus stood with arms crossed, but he kept his face passive. He’d managed to convince Gallio to keep the black stallion until Father came home, but that could change if the steward thought he was gloating over his victory.
Running footsteps echoed in the atrium as they approached the steward’s office. Both men turned their eyes on the boy as he burst through the doorway.
“Steward, Mistress Julia’s bearers just came back to the stable yard without her. They said Mistress Julia has been kidnapped.”
Gallio leaped to his feet, knocking his desk chair over behind him. He strode past Aulus, and his arm swept the boy out of the way as he jogged toward the stable.
Aulus followed, pausing only long enough to stick his head into the library, where Marcus was setting up the board for Mercenaries. “Follow me.”
His eyebrows lowered as he trotted behind Gallio. The first notice of the kidnapping was supposed to be the ransom note Marcus had arranged to have delivered later that afternoon. The escort was supposed to have sent the litter home because she would return in Metilia’s litter.
When Aulus entered the stable yard, Vilicus stood beside a grim-faced Gallio. Three litter slaves cowered before the pair. Taurus had just walked through the gate, and he hurried to join the others.
Gallio’s fists rammed into his hips. His glare focused on the left-rear bearer. “What happened, Primus?”
“The old man who came for the mistress, he led us into Subura, where we’d never gone before. When we got to the stable yard of an empty house, someone came out and said Mistress Metilia was waiting for Mistress Julia inside. The escort told us to stay with the litter. Then he tapped Dacius on the shoulder and told him to come with them. Dacius started to grin, then squashed it. That seemed odd, but I never expected…”
Gallio scowled. “I don’t care what you expected. What happened?”
“There was some noise inside, like a scuffle or something. Then everything got quiet. Too quiet. We waited a few minutes and still heard nothing. Then I told Verres and Capellus she might be in trouble, so we went inside.”
Primus rubbed the back of his neck. “We found the escort dead in the atrium. There was no sign of Mistress Julia, Dacius, or the man who came out to get her.”
His eyes darted to the other two bearers, then back to Gallio. “We came back to tell you as soon as we could. It looks like Dacius was helping the kidnapper since he disappeared, too. He must have known the man before you bought him, and he helped set the trap so they could take her. Now he’s run away himself.”
His gaze shifted to the ground, then returned to Gallio. “Dacius liked to watch the mistress too much when she was at Mistress Antonia’s villa. Maybe he wasn’t content to just watch anymore.”
Taurus snorted. “Dacius wouldn’t do such a thing. He’s the most reliable man I’ve e
ver had carrying her litter.”
Primus bristled. “Are you calling me a liar? He’d be with us right now if he wasn’t running away.”
Vilicus’s nostrils flared as he looked down his nose at Taurus. “If right-rear is so reliable, where is he now? And why weren’t you with them?” He fingered the handle of his whip.
Taurus’s eyes spit fire as his eyebrows plunged. His shoulders squared, as if ready for a fight.
Vilicus pulled the handle of his whip from the hook holding it on his belt. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the brass-tipped handle.
Taurus drew a deep breath, held it, then released it with a shrug. “Think what you want, overseer.”
Aulus stepped forward. “I’d asked Taurus to take the bay mare to Marcus’s house. He had nothing to do with this.”
Gallio focused on Taurus. “Get swords for you, Drusus, and Aulus.”
Taurus nodded and headed for the weapons cabinet in the room where Aulus’s father received his clients during salutation.
Gallio’s eyebrows dipped as his gaze returned to Primus. “Take us to the house. Vilicus and you two.” He pointed at the other bearers. “Come along.”
Taurus came from the house with three gladii in scabbards. Aulus, Marcus, and the escort draped the straps across their chests, and the party hustled through the gate.
Aulus’s throat was too dry for a good swallow. Something was going wrong…very wrong. What did that mean for Julia?
The walls of the Baths of Trajan soon rose above them. A short distance, and they left the Oppian Hill and began their descent into Subura, the rough-edged part of Rome that only a fool would travel after dark without an armed bodyguard.
Traveling at quick-march speed was no problem for Aulus, Marcus, and the litter crew, but Gallio was soon breathing heavily and Vilicus was huffing.
Primus led the way, at first quickly, but as they got deeper into Subura, he began to hesitate at street crossings. Each time, he consulted Verres and Capellus, and between the three, they picked a direction.
As the troop started down a narrow street, Marcus nudged Aulus and mouthed “wrong way.” He tipped his head toward a narrow street they’d just passed.
“Stop.” Aulus’s voice brought an instant halt. “Are you certain we’re going the right way?” He glanced back over his shoulder and down the side street. About a block away stood a litter. “There’s a litter down there.”
Taurus turned back and peered at it. “The cushions and canopy are the color of ours.” He spun on Primus. “Why is Mistress Julia’s litter there?”
Primus swallowed. “We didn’t want to leave it at the house where someone might steal it, so we were trying to carry it back. I wasn’t strong enough to carry both poles any farther.”
Taurus’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under the thick fringe of blond hair covering the top of his forehead. “You expect me to believe you carried half a litter by yourself? Who really carried it this far with you?”
Aulus strode past Taurus. “Stop discussing things that don’t matter. We need to get to the house as quickly as we can.”
Marcus trotted up beside him, and the rest followed.
Another two blocks, and Marcus pointed at an open carriage gate. “Is that the stable yard?”
As one, the three bearers nodded.
Marcus drew his sword, and Aulus and Taurus did the same before entering.
Dead leaves crunched under Aulus’s feet as they approached the door that would lead to the atrium. At the doorway, Marcus signaled for Taurus to go first, and the former gladiator stepped noiselessly inside the vestibulum, sword poised to kill. He crept along the wall and peered into the atrium.
“All clear.” He entered the room but kept his sword drawn as he knelt by the limp form of the old man. He twisted to face Gallio, who had entered silently behind them. “Broken neck.”
His eyebrows scrunched as he stared at the dirty floor. He pointed to a place where something had disturbed the coating of dust that was uniform closer to the wall. “There was a fight here. Someone was knocked down.” He touched a crimson spot where dirt had turned to mud. “And someone lost some blood.” He stood and pointed to a narrow strip clear of dirt near the wall. “Her tunic might have dragged there.”
Gallio swept his arm toward the small rooms on one side of the atrium, then the other. “Search all the rooms for any sign of her or that slave.”
A thorough search of all the rooms, including the second floor, revealed nothing.
Gallio grabbed his head with his hands. Then he straightened and squared his shoulders. “They took her. Time to report her abduction to the Urban Cohort.” He rubbed his forehead. Then he fixed misery-filled eyes on Aulus as his shoulders sagged. “How are we going to tell your father?”
Panic surged within Aulus like ocean breakers and tossed him on the rocks. His breath came faster and faster.
Then Marcus rested his hand on Aulus’s upper arm and squeezed. A tightlipped smile and his nod reminded Aulus to slow his breathing, and the panic slipped away.
Marcus turned to Gallio. “The only good reason I can imagine for someone taking her is to get ransom money. With the escort dead, they probably thought it safer to wait for that somewhere else. We need to return to the house so we’ll be there when the ransom demand is delivered.”
Gallio drew a deep breath and straightened. “Let’s go.”
As they trudged back up the street, they came once more to the litter.
Aulus stopped beside it and stroked the cushion where Julia usually reclined. “We need to take this home. She’ll need it when we get her back.”
Gallio nodded. “Vilicus. Take Dacius’s pole.”
Vilicus’s jaw dropped, then snapped shut into a scowl. “I’m overseer. Taurus should carry it.”
Gallio raised his hand, silencing him. “He’s too tall. You’re the right height. You can carry it this time.”
Fury flamed in Vilicus’s eyes as his jaw clenched. “Yes, steward.” His tone oozed anger.
Taurus tightened his lips and froze his face. “Ready the litter.”
Vilicus joined the other three down on one knee.
“Lift.” Taurus walked to the front of the litter. When Vilicus could only see his back, his smile leaked out. With a flick of his hand, the big German started them home.
Aulus glanced at Marcus as they marched beside Taurus. The serenity of his friend’s face was inexplicable, unless he’d made special plans with the kidnapper in case something unexpected happened. The escort wasn’t meant to die. Marcus was right that the man they hired couldn’t keep her there with a dead body, so maybe he’d only taken her somewhere else for a while. Somewhere safe, and maybe he’d have her back at the house at the agreed-upon time for Aulus to rescue her.
He fought to swallow. Then again, maybe not.
Servilia’s shop
Dacius had been dozing fitfully, finding blessed relief from the pain in the short periods of sleep. As he awoke once more, his mind drifted back to his prayer time the night before.
One corner of his mouth curved. His conversation with Glyptus at breakfast seemed so long ago. When Taurus left, he’d thought the day might be special because he’d get to spend it with his horses. Or maybe because Glyptus was asking about his god and he’d finally get to tell his friend about Jesus. Would that ever happen now?
Or maybe...
Was all this the special thing You had for me, Lord? A chance to save Mistress Julia from her brother?
Maybe the special thing was the end of his life as a slave...freed by death to enjoy true freedom forever with Jesus. Lord Jesus himself had said to follow His teaching. Then he would know the truth, and the truth would set him free.
I’ve loved her like you commanded, Lord, enough to give up my life for her. I know Your truth. Are You setting me free?
He waited for an answer with his eyes closed. God’s warm presence embraced him, even in
the midst of his pain, but no answer that he could understand came.
His eyelids cracked open, and his gaze fell upon Mistress Julia.
But if I die now, who will care for her until her father returns? Please, God, let it be Your will to leave me here to help her get home.
Her gaze met his. “Did you want something, Dacius?” Even whispering, her voice seemed musical.
The mistress was watching over him? He managed a smile.
“A drink, mistress. If you please.” What he really wanted, only God could give him.
She rose and glided over to the pitcher of watered wine. She poured some in the cup and returned to kneel beside him.
“There’s a roll, too. Would you like half?”
He kept his eyebrow from rising. “Thank you, mistress, but you should eat it.”
Her warm hand slid behind his neck and raised his head. She placed the cup against his lips, and he rested his own hand on hers to guide it as he drank. It smelled of roses, and its softness felt good against his calloused palm. He looked into her eyes, and the gentle kindness there made him glad he’d saved her, no matter what it cost him.
He finished the cup, and she lowered his head to the pillow.
“Thank you, mistress.” It was easy to remember to whisper so no one outside would hear. It took too much effort to do anything else.
“Rest now, Dacius. You need to get your strength back for the trip tonight.”
“Yes, mistress.” He closed his eyes and once more asked God to dull the pain and give him sleep.
Chapter 18: The Ransom
The Secundus villa
Lunchtime passed, and the ransom demand had not arrived. Aulus sat beside Marcus in the peristyle, watching Gallio pace.
The steward rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been hours since she was taken.” He glared at Marcus. “Maybe we should have stayed and searched the neighborhood. Someone must have seen something when they took her away from the house.”