The Conqueror

by Bryan Litfin

  Yet Flavia did not give in. Though her urge to inhale was intense, she refused to open her mouth. Her brain screamed for relief and her lungs demanded air, yet she knew in some instinctive way that to allow herself even one gasp would increase her agony a millionfold. She could only purse her lips and tumble deeper into the watery gloom, abandoned to the abyss like a pebble dropped in the sea.

  Perhaps her strong protector might have rescued her, but apparently, that angel had fled. Now Flavia found herself locked in an inescapable torture chamber. The intensity of her need to breathe was unbearable, and it only kept getting worse. Her soul’s pitiful cries—Help me! Save me! Get me out of here!—went unheard by any who could give relief. Nothing could stop Flavia’s free fall into the netherworld.

  At last she came to rest on solid rock. Her eyes were blind now. The cold had taken over. Mercifully, her abject terror eased up, and a quiet peace began to take over. Yes . . . a quiet peace. It would feel so much better to embrace it. Just let it come. Accept what must be. Flavia felt her body go limp.

  It is time to give up, my sssssweet one, said a voice in her head. Open those pretty lips and give me a kisssss . . .

  Yes, I will, Flavia decided.

  Her lips parted. Water gushed into her mouth. Her chest heaved. And then the deep darkness took her away.

  The impact against the pool at the base of the waterfall felt more like pavement than water. Rex took the full force of it on his back, cradling Flavia above him to protect her as best he could. Despite his encircling grip, the devastating blow knocked her body loose and sent Rex tumbling alone into the inky blackness. His head spun, and he fought to right himself in the turbulent abyss. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm his brain. Only with great effort was he able to keep his grip on consciousness and claw his way out of the depths.

  “Lady Junia!” he cried as he burst from the water. He scanned the ruffled surface of the plunge pool but saw no one, nor heard any voice above the roar of the cataract. “Lady Junia!” he called again, this time with more urgency.

  “There he is!” someone shouted from above. “Right there, near that log! Put a shaft in him!”

  A moment later, the whiz of an arrow was followed by a small splash only an arm’s length away.

  Rex heard the words, “You missed him! Try another!” but he was back underwater before the second arrow could be loosed. He kicked down into the darkness until he felt rock, then groped along the bottom but found nothing. Despair gripped him, for he knew Flavia could be anywhere. Mighty Hercules, he prayed, give me your favor right now! No sooner had Rex prayed than his hand closed on what he recognized as Flavia’s cold wrist. He scooped her into his arms and bunched his legs in a squatting position against a flat stone. With all the impetus his legs could impart, he shot to the surface and burst into the open, sucking great gulps of the cool night air. Flavia, however, never moved.

  Although more shouts sounded from above, none of the eight Praetorians seemed inclined to jump from the cliff to continue their pursuit. Rex thrashed his way to a pebbly beach and stumbled onto solid ground with Flavia still limp in his arms. He whirled to face the riders, their dark forms outlined against the night sky as their horses paced among the crags.

  “Curse you!” Rex shouted. “Look what you’ve done! You killed an innocent woman! The Furies take you all!”

  “She had it coming!” a cruel voice replied. “You lose, gladiator!”

  “Dirty little canicula!” someone else taunted.

  “Eat this!” shouted a third man, then backed up his threat with an arrow that slammed into a tree trunk near Rex’s elbow. He backed farther into the shadows.

  “I’ll kill you all!” Rex screamed, but his words only drew rough laughter. When another arrow swished past his cheek, he turned and ducked into the forest.

  The foliage was dense and would offer good cover. Kneeling, he laid Flavia on a bed of moist leaves. “Come back to me, my friend!” he urged. “Please! Wake up!”

  Rex’s heart was beating wildly, and he found himself experiencing a level of terror he had never encountered before. No daring stunt from his training had ever made him feel so afraid. Even the first charge of battle was nothing compared to the dread he felt now. This new fear was slashing across Rex’s soul, hurting him in places he didn’t know existed. He pressed Flavia’s hand to his chest and shook her by the shoulder, calling her name, begging her to awaken. But her body remained lifeless and cold.

  “Rex!” someone whispered.

  He spun, ready to fight, but the intruder identified himself as Alexamenos. The little Greek sidled up to Rex and knelt beside their inert friend. “Quick, man!” he said. “Help me roll her over!”

  “I can’t!” Rex cried as he collapsed backward, gripping his forehead in his palm. “It’s no use! She’s dead!” The unexpected pain of those words took his breath away. He put his fingers to his throat, fighting for air, trying to beat back the panic that threatened to undo him.

  “No, I’ve seen this before. When it’s really cold, you can sometimes bring people back.”

  “Impossible! By now she’s full of water!”

  Alexamenos shook his head. “After you take in a little bit, your throat shuts. You pass out and turn blue, then the body goes to sleep. A person can stay alive like that for quite a while.”

  Rex wanted to believe it, but the weight of his dismay crushed all hope. Never had he felt so unsure of what to do next. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t act, couldn’t even string two coherent thoughts together.

  Alexamenos had turned Flavia on her side now. Though a trickle of water dribbled from her lips, still she did not move. Tugging her shoulder, he rolled her face-up again, then pinched her nose. “There was a doctor in my village who used to blow air into a patient’s mouth to restart their breathing,” he said. “He believed the feel of new air in the lungs would wake them up.”

  “Do it!” Rex gasped through gritted teeth.

  Alexamenos bent down and covered Flavia’s mouth with his own. Five times he blew into her lungs. With each breath, her bosom rose and fell. Then Alexamenos straightened and waited. For a long moment, nothing happened.

  Suddenly Flavia coughed, and her body spasmed. She gagged and spit out water.

  Alexamenos bowed his head with his palm raised to heaven.

  Rex burst into tears.

  It was the uncontrollable shivering that brought Flavia back to full alertness. The more the fog cleared from her mind, the more she became aware of how cold she really was. The chill went deep into her body—so deep it was scary.

  “R-r-r-ex,” she said, extending a shaky hand toward his cheek. “H-h-h-help m-me . . .”

  “I’m right here, Lady Junia.” He raised her to a sitting position and enfolded her in a tight embrace. She trembled against him. Strangely, she perceived he was shaking too. He even made little whimpering noises.

  “Y-y-you’re c-crying,” she managed to say, unsure what was happening. Her memory of recent events was fuzzy.

  Rex pulled away from Flavia and gripped her by both shoulders. As he stared at her face, she could see her assertion was true. Rex’s eyes brimmed with tears, and his voice carried powerful emotions when he spoke. “I thought I had lost you at the bottom of the pool,” he gasped. “It was awful.”

  She nodded. “But you f-f-found me.”

  “Yes! I couldn’t stop searching! Somehow I had to bring you up.”

  “Th-thank you. It was d-d-dangerous.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’d do anything for you!”

  The spontaneous intensity of Rex’s words caught Flavia’s attention. This wild, violent man wasn’t the aloof loner she had assumed him to be. The tears in his eyes proved it. Flavia could only stare back at him. How many times will you confound me, Rex?

  A very long time, I hope.

  Alexamenos intervened, breaking the moment. “My lady, you’re dangerously cold,” he said, “and there’s no telling whether those Praetorians will find their
way here. We need to get moving.”

  The words seemed to snap Rex back to his normal, assertive self. He stood up and looked around. “That’s right. We have to find shelter immediately. Lady Junia needs to get near a fire and out of harm’s way. Did you bring a horse, Alexamenos?”

  The Greek shook his head. “I ran down the trail after you left the stable and saw you missed the left fork. The path down the bluffs is hard to find in the dark, but I know where it is, so I came straight here.”

  “Alright, then here’s the plan. I saw our horse get out of the water near the falls. I’m going to go find that poor beast and get us out of here. Fast.”

  While Rex went to collect the mare, Alexamenos unfastened his cloak and removed it from his shoulders. “I hope you’ll pardon me, my lady, but I learned a few things about medicine back in Graecia. A drowning isn’t solved only by getting out of the water. That wet clothing is still a danger on a chilly night like this. You need dry fabric against your skin.”

  “Our d-d-octor is Greek t-too,” Flavia said. “I under-s-s-stand.”

  By the time Rex returned, Flavia was standing upright, swathed in the woolen cloak like a butterfly in its cocoon. Alexamenos had made sure to tighten the hood around her neck to preserve as much body heat as possible. Only her bare feet protruded from her wrapping.

  “Let’s cover those too,” Rex said. He bent low and whisked Flavia into his arms. She squeaked a little at the sudden move yet didn’t mind letting Rex turn her so Alexamenos could wind his scarf around her ankles until all her skin was covered. Effortlessly, as if Flavia were no more to him than a sack of wheat, Rex stepped onto a flat boulder next to which he had led the mare. After setting Flavia in the saddle, he slid behind her.

  Mounted on the horse once more, though sidesaddle this time, Flavia had no qualms about nestling against Rex’s chest. She actually was feeling warmer now that she was out of the soggy linen gown, and the sensation of being in Rex’s embrace heightened that feeling. As Alexamenos gathered the reins and led the mare away, Flavia tried not to dwell on the fact that she was wearing hardly any clothing beneath the cloak.

  The party of three traveled for what seemed like an hour, meeting no one at this late watch of the night. Though the horse’s rump had been cut and it had been pushed to its limits, the creature’s survival instinct kicked in, and it found the will to press on. At last the bedraggled party came to the gate of the villa belonging to Flavia’s uncle. The sight of it flooded her with a rush of childhood memories: playing chase in the meadow, picking sweet apples in the fall, feasting around the farmhouse’s huge fireplace.

  The sound of a barking dog broke the fragile stillness. As the hound bolted across the grassy expanse, a lantern flickered to life inside a nearby gatehouse. A huge man appeared in the doorway at the same time the dog reached the gate, still barking its deep-throated warning. A bow was in the watchman’s hand, and an arrow was on the string. “I did twenty years as a sagittarius in the legions,” he said gruffly, “and I never learned to like night visitors. Be off with you before I put a point in your eye. I’ve killed many men in less moonlight than this.”

  Rex held up both hands. “Just hear us out, friend. We’re unarmed and escorting a relative of your master. She’s sitting on the horse with me, and she needs help. We’re seeking shelter in this house.”

  “You know his name?”

  “Titus Junius Ignatius,” Flavia called.

  Despite the accurate statement, the gatekeeper’s suspicions didn’t seem alleviated. He stared uncertainly at the visitors, his arrow still nocked. Flavia turned in the saddle and spoke in Rex’s ear. “Help me down,” she whispered. “I’ll prove it.”

  Rex dismounted, then removed the scarf from Flavia’s feet and set her on the ground. The grass was damp beneath her toes. Holding the cloak tightly around her, she walked to the gate and bent toward the fierce mastiff on the other side. It laid back its ears and growled, but Flavia spoke soothingly to the beast and extended her hand through the slats. Abruptly, the dog’s ears perked and its docked tail began to wag. It approached cautiously, sniffed Flavia’s hand, and uttered a series of excited yips.

  “Go tell your master that his niece who loves Alpha has come to him in trouble and needs his help,” she said.

  The gatekeeper turned his head into his cottage and called for a boy to run to the main farmhouse. When the youth returned with a response, the gatekeeper’s demeanor instantly changed. He unlatched the gate and ushered the nighttime visitors to the villa after promising to take good care of their horse. A well-dressed slave met them on the veranda.

  “Lady Junia, it truly is you!” he exclaimed.

  “Septimus! It has been so long!”

  The servant bowed to Flavia, and she inclined her head in return. “I can hardly believe it’s you, my lady,” Septimus said. “How you’ve grown! You’ve become such a lovely young woman.”

  “I’m seventeen now,” Flavia said. “That’s quite a difference from the little child you once knew.”

  “Indeed, it is. What a delight to see you!” Septimus beckoned to the party of visitors. “Come, all of you. I see you have been in distress. We have rooms to refresh yourselves and get some rest. In the morning, Master Ignatius will meet with you and give you the aid you need.”

  Since Alexamenos wanted to check on the deacon who had suffered burns, he declined the offer but promised to return the next day, making sure he wouldn’t be followed. After he took his leave, the servant led Rex and Flavia to a pair of upstairs bedrooms. An oil lamp in a wall niche was the only illumination in this dark wing of the house. After lighting charcoal braziers and setting a pitcher of water in each room, Septimus said good night. Flavia went to her bedchamber, then paused at its entrance and glanced over at Rex.

  “Sleep well, Lady Junia,” Rex said as he also stood at the entrance to his room.

  “After a day like this, I surely will.”

  Rex nodded his agreement and cracked his door. He was about to enter when Flavia stopped him.

  “Tell me one thing,” she said. When Rex indicated for her to go on, she asked, “How did you know we would hit the water and not get smashed on the rocks?”

  “Maybe I didn’t.”

  Flavia sucked in her breath. “You took a chance with our lives like that?”

  “A calculated risk,” Rex admitted with a grin. “I was staring at the falls while I waited for you at dinner. I knew there was a pool at the bottom. I thought we’d hit it.”

  “So you weren’t scared?”

  Rex examined Flavia’s face for a moment, then began to approach. His sudden move reminded her that she was wearing little but a cloak in a remote part of a dark villa. Only one small lamp cast its glow in this secret, quiet place. Casually, she eased closer to the bedroom door and hoped Rex’s advance would stop.

  He halted in front of her, not far away, though not close enough to be menacing either. “What’s wrong with being scared?” he asked.

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  Rex took a step closer, and this time Flavia could sense the energy between them. The feral undercurrent in Rex’s personality unnerved her. Even with a shave and a haircut, the man was an untamed barbarian.

  “Are you scared right now, Lady Junia?”

  “A little,” Flavia admitted. Her words came out breathier than she intended.

  “It helps to be afraid, doesn’t it? It makes you ready for action. Or sometimes it prepares you to run.”

  Flavia swallowed hard, trying to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. “Do I . . . need to?”

  “Run?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Instead of answering, Rex closed the final distance between them. Though he did not touch her, he came very near, gazing down with intense desire in his eyes. The flickering light of the lamp danced on his cheeks. This man is too handsome for me to resist, Flavia realized.

  “You don’t need to run from me, my friend,” he said.

  “I think
I do,” Flavia whispered. She felt shaky and weak.

  For a long time Rex did not speak. A hint of a smile lurked at the corners of his lips as he regarded her with a playful stare. At last he raised his hand and caressed Flavia’s cheek with his finger. The feel of it was as light as a feather, yet its impact was like an ocean of sweet wine. Her legs sagged, and she had to steady herself against the wall.

  “Run toward me,” he offered. “Come all the way.”

  “I . . . I can’t . . .”

  Rex remained motionless and silent. He didn’t need to say more. His eyes were doing all the talking. The invitation was there. The invitation to everything.

  “Oh, Rex . . .” The words were more of a moan than an act of speech.

  “I see you aren’t running away,” he observed. “Yet neither are you advancing.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Flavia replied. Actually, I’m completely helpless.

  Rex eased forward and inclined his head. His body touched her cloak now, and his cheek was next to hers. For a long moment he did nothing. Flavia’s heart fluttered out of control.

  Ever so gently, Rex turned and kissed Flavia’s cheek. Then he backed away.

  “W-w-why?” she asked, barely able to speak.

  “Because you’re not like other women. Let’s walk side by side for now. If you’re ever ready to run to me, you’ll know.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. You have a hold on me. Never forget this, Flavia—I’m for you. For you in every way.”

  She nodded gratefully. Rex smiled and turned toward the wall niche. After blowing out the lamp, he retired to his room, leaving Flavia alone in the silent hallway.

  Titus Junius Ignatius was one of those men accustomed to privilege from birth, so he wielded his power naturally and didn’t come across as arrogant. Rex had known a few men like him in the army. They believed the world was the way it was for a reason; and in that world, they had been placed on top. Such self-confidence meant that men like Ignatius didn’t go around trying to show off their power and wealth. In fact, they could often be quite generous. Men of this station felt it was their duty to display beneficence, especially toward needy relatives like a favorite niece. And that meant Flavia was—at least for now—in good hands.