A Hanging at Lotus Hall
Page 27
Excerpt: Warriors of Seneca
Book 1 of the Seneca Alternate History Series
The area we know as upstate New York, of a different timeline in which the Roman Empire thrived, creating a world both like and unlike our own, circa 900 A.D.
The ring must be perfect.
Dinah had labored for over a year to attract Governor Seneca’s attention. If he was pleased by this signet ring for his grandson, it would be the beginning of a long and valuable patronage.
She bent her head lower over the workbench. The eagle’s wing feathers had to be wispy enough to suggest flight, thick enough to suggest power.
Her wooden front door swung open so hard that it smacked against the far wall. She flinched, almost ruining the feathers, and old reflexes had her reaching for a non-existent knife at her waist.
“Dinah, come with me.”
Without looking up, she recognized the deep, rumbly voice of Licinius, the Roman garrison’s engineer. Gah. Not now. She was almost done with the ring.
“Licinius, I’m busy. Can I come by your office later?”
“No. It’s an urgent summons from Commander Tabor.”
Tabor?
She set aside her engraving tool, looked up, and was shocked to discover that Licinius was wearing his full Imperial uniform, including the chest plate. Behind him stood his young assistant, Ceti, also in uniform.
Dread froze her fingers. “What is this?”
“The commander ordered me to fetch you without delay to our camp near the river.” Licinius’s face and voice held no emotion.
Dinah clutched the almost-finished ring tight in her hand. No. Not when I’m so close. This order could only mean Tabor needed the person she used to be. The person she’d vowed never to be again.
“Why near the river? What not at the commander’s office in the fort? What’s happened?”
“The Legion arrived today and camped on the plains near the river,” Licinius said. “Tabor marched the garrison out there to add to their numbers.”
“What? The fort would be safer with the local tribes so restless. Tabor knows that.”
Licinius sighed. “The Legionary Legate ordered the garrison to come to him. Tabor had no choice. As for the rest, that is a question you must ask him. But, now, we need to go.”
“There’s nothing I can do that Tabor’s soldiers cannot do better,” she lied.
Gods, Tabor, you cannot truly be asking this of me, to become less again now that I’ve worked so hard to become more.
“That may be true but I have my orders. Dinah, you’re wasting time,” Licinius said.
No, she was stalling for time, hoping to avoid the inevitable. Young Ceti drew his gladius and the sound of the blade scraping the scabbard echoed around her home. Oh, yes, that would make her obey, a soldier who drew his sword so awkwardly.
But she owed Tabor her life and her freedom. She must answer his summons.
No more a slave but she still wasn’t free.
She slid off her stool, trapped by a blood debt. “You know why I need to leave my past behind, my friend.”
Licinius nodded. “Of course. But I’m under orders, the same as you.”
“Of course.”
She glanced around her home, taking in the shelves of raw stones to her left, the woven chair by the fire, and the hanging oil lanterns near the door. She’d built this. The only home she’d ever had.
She stowed her tools in the drawer of her worktable and pressed a section of the table leg with her foot. A hidden compartment popped open and she slipped the nearly finished ring inside. Maybe this would not take too long, maybe she would be back tomorrow to finish it.
And maybe Augustus himself would come down from his place with the gods to make things right with the Empire that he’d founded.
She retrieved her woolen cloak from a hook near the door, taking a moment to splay her palm over her stained-glass window, letting the chill on the glass seep into her hand.
In her dreams, a crib holding a healthy child sat under the window, the babe looking up to glorious multi-colored light. A child for her to care for, to be loved, and never to be sold, as she had been.
She tied her cloak around her neck, comforted by weight of the knife she always kept hidden in its secret pouch. She pulled the hood over her head as she stepped through the doorway.
Full dark had fallen.