Lionslayer's Woman

by Nhys Glover

  While he considered the options, the gangplank had been extended from the ship to the dock and Antoninus made his way across it. He turned back to watch as the nurse helped the groggy child across the expanse. Then Xerxes followed, loaded up with all their possessions. It was a pathetic little entourage he had for himself. Nothing compared to how his father would be travelling. One day he would have his father’s power and all the luxuries that went with it. Until then, he would make do with what leftovers his father threw his way.

  Glancing up from the girl who had tripped and fallen as she reached the wooden dock, he grunted in disgust. People were looking. They were all cautious around anyone who looked sick. Plagues abounded in these hot regions. He was so tired of explaining the child’s condition.

  His eyes slid over the seething humanity around him. Then they locked on to the familiar. He knew that pretty face and that long tail of raven’s wing hair. The flat chest was the final give away. Galeria’s slave-girl was here! That meant Galeria had to be here, too. Oh, thank the gods. Finally, something was going right for him.

  Pushing through the crowd, he made for the slave. What was her name? He couldn’t remember. She was getting farther and farther ahead of him. Somehow, he had to get her attention above the noise and chaos of the busy waterfront.

  ‘Girl! Hey girl! Galeria’s girl! Wait, stop!’ He had to raise his voice to almost a screech to get over the racket, and it still wasn’t loud enough.

  He pushed on through the backs that were a barrier between himself and his goal. One slave carrying two amphora attached to a wooden shoulder harness almost tripped and fell as Antoninus pushed past him. An angry overseer yelled abuse at him but he didn’t care. The girl was getting away from him. She was his only link to her mistress!

  ‘Girl! Galeria’s Girl! Hey, you!’ It hurt to yell that loud, but it was the only chance he had. The mass of humanity was not giving him ground. She was getting farther away.

  Then, miraculously, she turned and looked behind her. At first, she didn’t see him. Then, her eyes grew large with surprise and excitement. Obviously, the girl was looking for him, too.

  She turned back in his direction, and for such a small woman, she made better headway than he had getting through the crowd. Soon she was standing in front of him while the dockworkers and slaves moved like a river around them.

  ‘Where’s Gali? What have you done with Gali?’ The girl’s voice was high with fury.

  What was this? Why would this slave be speaking to him like this? He was the child’s saviour. Hadn’t she seen the note he wrote? How dare she speak like this to him!

  ‘Where is your mistress?’ He countered imperiously, trying to think as fast as he could. Fast decisions were not his forte. He needed time to deliberate. Being confronted in such a surprising way didn’t help him think clearly.

  ‘Where’s Gali? You bastard! Tell me what you’ve done with that sweet child or I’ll have you arrested for kidnapping!’ The girl was screaming at him now.

  Kidnapping? Were the people around them listening to this? Would they find out what he’d done? But of course they wouldn’t pay attention to a slave. A slave couldn’t bear witness against a citizen. What was the girl thinking to scream at him like a fishwife?

  He saw Xerxes making his hasty way toward him. ‘A runaway slave! This is a runaway slave! I know her mistress. Someone, take hold of her. Don’t let her go! She must be returned to her mistress!’

  The girl was so stunned by his verbal attack that she stood there with her mouth open. Several overseers nearby were eyeing the girl now and he could see lechery written on their faces. It certainly helped that she was a pretty, little thing.

  Xerxes must have dropped their belongings back with the females because he was empty-handed enough to grab the girl now. Recovered from the shock, Galeria’s girl started to struggle as the much larger Parthian clamped her arms behind her back.

  ‘You bastard! I’m not a runaway! Let me go! Let me go, I say!’

  ‘Then where’s your mistress, girl? Answer me that?’ Antoninus was thrilled with how quickly he’d been able to turn the situation in his favour. Of course, she was only a slave-girl. She was no match for him. Still, it felt good to have the upper hand for once.

  He looked to the side and saw several freedmen standing empty-handed. ‘You two. Help my man find a place to imprison this girl while I find the authorities. She’s an escaped slave! You’ll be paid handsomely for your assistance.’

  ‘No, no! I’m not escaped! I’m trying to get my mistress’ sister back from this bastard who kidnapped her!’

  Xerxes was quicker than he was. With one arm wrapped tightly around the girl’s throat, he cut off her air supply. Seconds later, she lay unconscious in his arms.

  ‘Tie her up. Gag her. She can’t be allowed to rant like that. She’ll say anything to gain her freedom,’ Antoninus ordered. The two men he’d offered work to, found a strip of leather from somewhere and bound the girl’s arms behind her back. Xerxes tore a piece of his moth-eaten cloak off to bind her mouth.

  ‘I’ll go back for your things. Then I’ll follow,’ Xerxes said, handing the girl over to the other men.

  Antoninus hadn’t considered the females or their possessions. Of course they needed to get them. He tried not to resent Xerxes for his quick thinking.

  ‘Yes. Just what I was about to say. You men, bring her along. We’ll find somewhere to keep her while the authorities are found.’

  Leonis stood at the edge of the crowded dock watching the debacle in front of him. It had all happened so quickly. One minute Cyra had been behind him, letting him use his bigger body to clear a path for them both; the next she was gone. When he’d realised it, he’d stopped and looked back.

  There’d been just too many people on the narrow wooden dock to be able to get a clear picture fast enough, but his superior height gave him the advantage of being able to see over other’s heads. When he’d finally caught a glimpse of her jet black hair, ducking and weaving back the way they’d come, he hadn’t known what she was thinking.

  Then he saw her confronting a man, a patrician from the look of his toga. What was she doing yelling at a patrician? Then he realised who the man must be. Antoninus! She had found the Proconsul’s son. And instead of waiting to see where he went and where the little girl was, she’d waded in thoughtlessly. How could she expect this to go in her favour? It was just what he’d feared most.

  As he’d struggled to get back to her, against the tide of humanity, he saw the patrician giving orders. ‘Escaped slave,’ echoed across the masses to him. Oh, Bendis, this was not good!

  A dark, olive-skinned man with hair the same colour as Cyra’s grabbed her as she struggled. The patrician was ordering other men to assist the first. He was in no position to free her. Not with the patrician giving orders and others following them so eagerly. He might be able to take one or two of them down, but there were too many witnesses and the words ‘runaway slave’ held too much power. Others would join in if he tried to help her escape now.

  Though it killed him to do it, he remained on the sidelines, watching as the men manhandled his woman and began dragging her along the dock toward the township. Falling in a few steps behind the patrician, he followed their little cavalcade, trying to remain just one of the curious bystanders. It helped that this patrician didn’t know him. As far as he was concerned, Cyra was here with Galeria or alone. That gave him an advantage. Not much of one, he had to admit, but it was an advantage.

  He would need every advantage he could get.

  Along the pebbled shoreline, Antoninus saw a row of shacks that were obviously used to house the smaller dinghies that guided larger craft into the docks. At that busy time of the day, the sheds stood empty. He ordered the men to take the slave-girl to the closest of these.

  ‘Check there’s no other way out,’ he demanded once they reached the shack. It was little more than a lean-to and stunk of rotting fish and seaweed. One of the men went
inside and returned almost immediately, his eyes watering and holding his breath.

  ‘Stinks to high heaven but it’s sound enough.’

  ‘Good. Throw her in there. Then you can go.’ Antoninus felt around in his pouch for a few copper as to give the men.

  ‘But who’ll watch her while you go for the militia?’ One of the men said. He was a tall, scrawny Graecian with a mop of black curly hair. He smelled disgustingly like sweat and offal.

  ‘My man will be here shortly. He will watch the girl. Here, with my thanks. Go back to your work now. You have been very useful.’ He held out the coins to the disgruntled men and they took them grudgingly.

  ‘I can go for the authorities if you’ll pay me. Save you doing it,’ the man said as he studied the as with disappointment.

  ‘They wouldn’t take any notice of you, man. I will need to do it myself. My father is Proconsul of Asia. They’ll listen to me. Now go about your business. You’ll find work on the dock, I’m sure.’

  When the men were gone and the girl locked safely in the shed, Antoninus breathed his first easy breath. This situation had its advantages but it also had its pitfalls. He knew Galeria had to be nearby, which was good, but the way the little slut had attacked him it was clear they knew of his part in the raid. Galeria wouldn’t be happy with him. In fact, if she chose to go to the authorities herself, he could be in real trouble.

  But, so far, there had been no sign of Galeria, so he was safe. Now, what to do with the girl? He needed answers, that was certain, but he couldn’t take the girl to the authorities as he’d said. Even if she was a slave, if she roused enough questions about what had happened at the Donicus’ villa he might find himself having to answer for his part in it all. The child would be quick to tell her side of things, too, if given the chance.

  No, he had to keep this quiet. Somehow, he needed to find out where Galeria was and use her sister to get her to cooperate. Even if she knew the truth, she might still marry him to get her sister back. An unwilling bride was better than no bride, and once he had her body, he didn’t really care what she thought of him.

  It didn’t take long for Xerxes to arrive with the woman and child. There were too many eyes watching to put the child in with the slave-girl, and he didn’t want the child raising a fuss if she found out what he’d done to the slave. Think… think…

  ‘Will I take the females to an inn, and then come back to help you with…’ Xerxes said, avoiding mention of their new captive. He clearly understood the importance of keeping the child unaware of the situation.

  ‘Yes, do that. Somewhere secure. Woman, you must keep the child safe until I come for her. Do you understand? Give her poppy juice if you have to, but keep her quiet and away from others. There is danger here as there is in any port town.’

  The woman nodded silently and put her arm protectively around the child’s shoulders. He didn’t like the way the woman looked at him, as if she knew what he’d done and hated him for it. Would the child have told her? Of course, but she was his slave. She had to do what he ordered.

  While Xerxes hustled the pair away, Antoninus found a shady spot to sit and wait. How was he going to interrogate the girl with so many people around? If she screamed, someone would notice. People would ask questions or call the authorities. No, they’d have to get her away from here to somewhere more private. But where?

  How he wished he hadn’t come up with this crazy plan in the first place. It seemed the further along they went, the deeper and more complex the problems became. He was starting to wonder if even his father could get him out of this one.

  Leonis followed Antoninus to the boatshed and watched as he dismissed the two extra men. Fool! He was thinking with his purse and not with his head. He should have kept the men on as guards, but Leonis wasn’t complaining. It made his job easier.

  Antoninus didn’t seem to be making any effort to get the authorities; therefore, he had to assume they didn’t want to attract attention. After all, they were kidnapping a child. A highborn child, at that.

  No, with the two men gone and Antoninus the only guard, he could take the man down and rescue Cyra without the patrician calling the authorities. But then, he wouldn’t know where the child was and Cyra would never forgive him if he lost her when they’d gotten so close.

  The male slave who had manhandled Cyra arrived several minutes later, escorting a Nubian female and child who looked enough like Galeria to assure him that she was her sister. Then, after a few moments’ discussion, the slave took the woman and child away.

  Did he follow them or stay with Cyra? Follow the child. At the moment Cyra was safe, if uncomfortably trussed up in that shed. Antoninus wouldn’t do anything with her until he had help. Would the male slave return when he’d found a place for the child? It was likely. He wished he’d been closer so he could have overheard what they said.

  He decided to follow the child, though he heart cried out to him to save his woman. However, a warrior didn’t follow his heart. He knew it led to mistakes. Hadn’t Cyra proved that already this day?

  Damn the foolishness of the woman. But by all the gods she was courageous. To stand toe-to-toe against a powerful Roman? She was an Amazon indeed. If he hadn’t already known that he was in love with her, that moment would have sealed it for him, and the fear he’d felt for her ever since was just added proof. It pushed him to do something crazy, and he couldn’t afford to do that now. Cyra needed him too much to let his heart rule his head.

  Leonis trailed along behind the three people until they reached an inn several streets back from the waterfront. While the male slave went inside, the female stood with the child in the shade, holding the girl close, soothing her with a stroke of her hand. Did he act now or wait until the male went back to Antoninus? It made sense to wait until they were away from the street. But if he waited until the slave left, then he would have two men to face when he went after Cyra. Better to take the man out here in the privacy of an upstairs room. Then he could take the child with him back to get Cyra. Would the child go with him? And what would the woman do?

  As his fevered brain tried to consider all his options, something unexpected happened that threw all his plans to the wind.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Appius Galerius Donicus left the sweltering heat of the overcrowded inn and made his way into the afternoon sunshine. It was as hot as Hades out here, but at least the heat wasn’t as stifling as it was inside. It smelled better too. A room full of sweating, filthy men was enough to turn anyone’s stomach. However, after a year in the army, Appius was used to the stench of unwashed bodies.

  Thank the gods his military service was over; it was definitely not his forte. Although, the role of minor bureaucrat had sat well enough with him to extend his service the extra six months he needed to firm up his appointment as an Ephesus civil court judge – thanks to his patron, Flavius Sabinus, Caesar’s cousin.

  He’d quite enjoyed organising the road building in Britannia, even though they weren’t paving their thoroughfares as they did in the rest of the empire, but he was glad to be away from the rainy climate and back in his homeland. Even though he was born and raised in Rome for the first eight years of his life, he considered Rhodos his home, and that island and his beloved family were only on the other side of the Aegean now – not much farther to go.

  Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he considered a trip to the baths. He’d heard the gong sound an hour ago, but he’d been busy checking on ships heading to Rhodos in the morning and then arranging accommodation. Now he was organised; he could relax a little.

  ‘Appius?’

  It was a child’s voice that called him. Jerking around to see who knew him, he saw a woman and child standing in the shade not far away. The woman was trying to press the child against her side but the girl was struggling to get away.

  ‘Appius?’ The child was calling him. Who was she?

  He moved toward the females, frowning. His eyesight wasn’t the best, and the rea
ding he’d been forced to do as part of his job didn’t help.

  The closer he got, the more disturbed he became. The child looked like his younger sister, but what would Galerianna be doing in Isthmia?

  ‘Galerianna?’ he said tentatively. The child finally wrestled herself free of the Nubian and rushed into his arms sobbing.

  ‘Galerianna? Is it really you? What are you doing here? Why are you crying?’ He tried to pull the child away from him so he could look at her more closely but she clung to him like a limpet.

  The Nubian woman had come over to them now and was standing close, uncertain what to do.

  ‘They killed them… They killed them!’ The child cried into his tunic.

  ‘Who killed whom, Gali? Tell me what you’re doing here? Where is Mater?’

  The child began to wail loudly and the slave woman came closer, running a soothing hand down the child’s back.

  ‘Who are you? What is my sister doing here?’ Appius demanded of the woman, seeing he wasn’t going to get a sensible answer from his sister. Her obvious trauma was unsettling him. Something was seriously amiss here.

  At that moment, a Parthian man came out of the inn and hurried over to them. The Nubian cowered away, whimpering. Appius took a step back, shielding his sister from this new threat, even though he didn’t understand it.

  ‘Give the child to me. I’m sorry she has bothered you, kind sir. She is not well…’ The man said, reaching for Galerianna.

  ‘This is my sister. She is no bother. Who are you and what are you doing with her? Why is she so upset and terrified?’

  The slave blinked rapidly as he took in Appius’ words and then he began to step away quickly. Before he could disappear, another man came up behind him and wrapped his arm around the Parthian’s neck.

  As a golden arm tightened around the darker man’s throat, the bearded blonde smiled cruelly. ‘See how you like being strangled.’ After a few moments’ struggle against the larger, stronger opponent, the Parthian slumped into unconsciousness.