She was playing it by ear, not knowing what to expect. One thing she did know: a single wrong word and she'd be a dead witch. “I will do my best to not let it happen again ... Master.” Meryl bit her tongue. Addressing him as ‘Master’ didn't sit well with her independent streak. The sooner she got out of here—wherever here was—the better.
She heard him step closer, but didn't dare look up without permission. His thumb and forefinger locked against her jaw and raised her head until she stared up at him. They studied each other. It was handsome enough in a harsh sort of way. His neatly trimmed brown hair sported individual curls lying flat across his forehead in the Roman fashion.
Roman? Clue number one, or maybe no. She thought he might be Greek, or from one of the Mediterranean islands. Nothing like flying blind.
His ankle length toga was made of fine linen and had a design embroidered in blue, which ran from shoulders to hem. The sight of more fabric draped over his arm, made the sultry day even more uncomfortable. Meryl wondered how he could stand all that material? Just thinking about it made her feel hotter. Light blue eyes, a narrow, clean shaven face. His thin lips were pursed while he scrutinized her own features. Although he held her chin in his grasp, forcing her to look up at him, she kept her eyes lowered, sensing that to do otherwise could put her in a heap of trouble.
In another moment, he released her chin. “You will bring me my evening meal in my chambers.” His eyes glittered with anticipation.
Meryl had seen that look before and shivered inwardly. “As you wish ... Master.” She was going to choke on the word before she escaped. She waited impatiently to be dismissed. His subtle command rubbed her the wrong way. She had a pretty good idea what he had in mind, but he didn't know she was married. Well, at least handfasted. As far as she was concerned, it was close enough to a solemn commitment to keep her safe from any lecherous intentions.
"What is this?” His eyes settled on the fine silver chain around her neck. He freed the pendant from beneath her tunic.
Meryl held her breath for a brief moment. “It's all I have of my parents, Master. It was left to me when they died."
"Stolen is more like it,” he snapped back and gave the chain a hard yank, breaking it. He examined the jewelry, intrigued with its strange design.
"I have no need to steal what belongs to me.” Meryl blinked back angry tears shimmering in her eyes. How dare he take what was hers. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, or beg for the return of her property. She would get it back. She watched him casually drop the pendant into the coin pouch at his waist.
"Return to your duties."
Meryl stood and bowed her head, then respectfully backed out of the courtyard. Once out of his sight, she ran in the direction of the kitchen. She had no idea how she knew, unless she'd taken over someone's body, like that Scott, whatever his name was, did in the time travel show on television. It would explain what everyone thought was a fit. She had to find Flavia, talk to the girl and find out all she could about the man who owned this house.
* * * *
"If I'd known I was going to spend so much time in everyone else's kitchens, I would have taken classes to become a chef.” Meryl grumbled and brushed loose strands of hair out of her face. For the past week, she'd been sent to the kitchen every day. It was probably Phineas's subtle way of insisting she didn't work hard enough. Using a wooden paddle, she retrieved the round flat breads from the oven and set them on the table to cool. Fresh fruit and dates were arranged in baskets and set aside. Flavia had subtly shown her the way things were done, assuming that the fit she'd had days before had somehow disrupted her memory. Meryl let the girl think what she would.
Flavia remained quiet while she prepared a tray for their master, not once glancing Meryl's way while she worked. She didn't want the other woman to see her red rimmed eyes. Questions would only cause more problems, if Phineas thought she was complaining.
"Flavia?” Meryl glanced around for the whereabouts of the overseer, then not seeing him, rested a hand on the other girl's arm, halting her work. “Something is wrong. Tell me, maybe I can help."
"There is no help. What has been decided will be done. You are a slave like the rest of us. What makes you think you can change anything?” Flavia's tone turned bitter.
"I don't know if I can change anything, I won't know until you tell me what's wrong. I can tell you, I am not what I seem."
Flavia burst into tears. “Leander asked the master for permission to marry. Instead, he decided to sell Leander to another household."
Meryl's fists clenched in anger. She was tired of seeing people's lives manipulated by others, based on whims. This time, she would try to change the outcome. “When does this sale take place?"
"In a few days. The master is expecting visitors and will sell Leander to them. They've been here before and have tried to buy him. The master has always refused their offer. Now, he's more than willing to accept.” Flavia choked back a sob. “Perhaps it's best. Nothing good will come of Leander's service if he remains in Pompeii."
Meryl stared at Flavia, open-mouthed. “Did you say Pompeii? We are in Pompeii?” she asked incredulously, her voice squeaking. Why had she delayed in asking her whereabouts when she'd first arrived? Because Phineas was always too close, listening to slaves talk. An idea began to grow in her mind.
"Flavia, what's the date?"
"The date?” She glanced to the doorway and paled when Phineas passed by, sure the slave master would stop. “It's August twenty-third,” she whispered.
"Oh my gosh,” Meryl said slowly. “Oh my gosh.” The words tumbled out faster as ideas formed quickly. “That explains the unusual quiet and the heat, the dead garden, the foul smelling water—when we do have water ... We don't have much time. Flavia, do you trust me?"
Flavia couldn't understand Meryl's racing speech, and looked at the pale eyed woman as if she'd lost her mind. “I ... Yes, I trust you."
"Good. Here's what you have to do. I'll come to you, as soon as I've taken care of a little matter.” Meryl explained to her friend what she had to do. “Everything will work out just fine. You and Leander will be able to marry.” Meryl gave Flavia a quick hug, pleased to see a smile lighten her pretty features with new hope.
* * * *
August twenty-third, 79 AD. Meryl recalled her history. Tomorrow, Mt. Vesuvius would erupt, burying several villages under tons of ash. Someone was desperate to keep her out of Scotland, to the point of sending her to a town which was utterly destroyed. There were some survivors, but not many. Were they hoping she would be buried under the ash along with most of the population of Pompeii? She had to work quickly. Serving the master would take a bit of time. She was well aware of what he wanted from her ... and it wasn't to be served his supper. She'd managed to stay out of his reach so far, but she would have to change her course now. She couldn't go anywhere without her pendent.
Meryl approached Master Kestor's chamber and was granted permission to enter. The last few days she'd managed to avoid serving his supper in his chambers. Kestor had been too busy and someone else had brought in his meals. Tonight, her luck had run out. She placed her tray on a table and poured red wine into a goblet. When she turned to face the hated man her eyes widened in surprise. Dinks. Where had the little rascal been hiding this last week? The master stroked Dinks’ fur, but kept his attention on her. He studied her, from head to toe, making her nervous. His eyes revealed his lustful interest in her. “Bring me some wine,” he ordered and gently moved the cat to one side. He emptied the goblet and demanded more.
Meryl did as ordered, then moved back, wanting to keep as much distance as possible between them. She mumbled a few words under her breath and waited while he gulped the wine. This wasn't going to be as easy as she'd hoped. She watched him rise from his seat and step toward her. Meryl instinctively stepped back.
"Did I not tell you to be prepared to entertain me?” he asked darkly.
Meryl nodded.
> "Then why do you move away?"
"Because, I'm married, Master. I would never betray my vows to my husband."
"Where is this ... husband?"
Meryl shrugged.
"You belong to me, not your husband. I have rights which preceed his."
Meryl tried to dodge the hand reaching out to her and barely managed to avoid its grasp. Darting to the back of the room, she kept the small table between them. She glanced at Dinks and saw him sitting on the bed, watching her caught in a game of cat and mouse.
"Are you going to sit there staring, or will you help?” Meryl's expression became frantic.
The Roman patrician, not in the mood for games, glanced back, wondering if someone had entered his private quarters without permission. He'd have them flayed alive for such impertinence. The cat stared back at him.
Dinks gave what sounded like an almost human sigh, then gathered himself for a leap. He hit the human male square in the chest, knocking him over. The man didn't move. Meryl wasn't sure if the man was dead or alive, but a snarl from Dinks assured her the treacherous male wouldn't be waking any time soon. Meryl gingerly emptied the contents of the pouch at his waist, looking for her pendant. It wasn't there—but there were quite a few gold coins. She scooped them all up, and dropped them back into the pouch. Where might he have hidden her pendant. It had no monetary value as far as she knew. It's value lay in what it represented. Meryl began a methodical search of the room. She found more gold coins and added them to those in the leather pouch. When it was almost full, she turned and grinned at the unconscious man.
"You, my friend, are about to pay for a wedding—and a new beginning for a fine couple.” She pulled the pouch strings tight. “Keep him asleep, Dinks. I still have to find my pendant. Can't go home without it."
Meryl found Leander and Flavia alone in the slaves’ quarters, waiting anxiously for her. They had managed to find clothing which wouldn't betray their status.
"You both look great. Let's get to the stable, you'll need a cart to get away from here quickly."
Flavia rested her hand on Meryl's arm and gave her a worried look. “Are you alright, Adria?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?” Meryl was in too much of a hurry to get them away, to think about what Flavia was saying.
"Ever since you suffered with that last seizure, you have been speaking strangely, as if your mind has been affected."
"I'm not who you think I am, but don't worry about it. Your friend will be back and free, as well. I'm sure your friend is fine and safe."
Meryl waited while Leander hitched a horse to the cart and helped Flavia up to the seat, then handed him the heavy pouch filled with gold coins. “A wedding gift from the master,” she told them happily.
Leander hefted the gift on his palm, shocked at its weight. It was too much. “The master will come after us..."
"Not likely. He'll be too busy trying to save as much of his wealth as he can. I can't think of a better use for that,” and she gestured to the pouch, “than to start off your married life. By this time tomorrow, Pompeii will be buried under tons of ash and the air will be poisonous. That's why you must leave now. Go to the waterfront and get on a ship; just don't let those cutthroats take everything from you. Go anywhere. Go to Rome and start your new life together. Just leave here quickly."
"Come with us. Why stay and place yourself in danger?"
"Because the master has something which belongs to me and I can't leave without it. Don't worry about me. I'll be out of here in plenty of time. Blessings of the goddess on your marriage. May you share many years of happiness together."
Leander leaned over and kissed Meryl's cheek. “You have been a good friend to us, Adria. May you find safety elsewhere."
Meryl slapped the horse's rump and watched the couple leave. She imagined the waterfront teaming with people anxious to leave Pompeii. A sulfurous odor was faint on the air, but in a few hours it'd be unbreathable. When the couple was out of sight, she realized the night was too quiet. She had to get back to Kester's chamber to find her pendant. Time was running out.
When she got back to Kester's private quarters, Meryl found the arrogant man still out cold. She had no idea how much time she had. The pendant hadn't been in the pouch where she'd seen him drop it. She began a quick, methodical search of the room. There weren't many places to hide things. She stopped at a small table in a darker corner of the room, where two small boxes sat side by side. “Hide in plain sight,” she remarked, opening the first one. On a piece of black velvet lay a small amulet with Celtic symbols on it. She thought it rather odd that such a piece existed in this time and place. She recalled from her history, the Romans had yet to make contact with the Celts. They wouldn't meet for at least another three hundred years. How could something of Celtic origin find its way here to the Roman empire? Someone didn't want her to return to Scotland and claim her inheritance. Meryl didn't like the feeling she got from the amulet. It felt evil. “Dinks,” Meryl called to her pet while she studied the amulet. The black cat sniffed at the jewelry and backed away quickly. “I know. It doesn't feel right. Take this and drop it into the well in the garden. We can't afford to leave it here for someone else to find.” The well in question had little water left in it and Meryl hoped the amulet would end up buried in the mud at the bottom.
Dinks gingerly took up the chain in his teeth, pulling the amulet from Meryl's hand, and trotted out of the room. While waiting for his return, Meryl opened the second box and found her pendant lying on black velvet. She sighed with relief. She couldn't bear to lose the only link she had to the parents she'd never known. She fastened the clasp to the chain around her neck, hoping it would hold. When she touched the pendant, she felt comforted by its presence.
A moment later, while Meryl looked around the room, she saw bright flashes of blue light, like fireworks, coming from the direction of the garden. “Dinks, are you okay?” she asked as the cat returned to the room, snarling. “Okay. I'm sorry. If I'd known it was that powerful, I'd have ditched it myself. It's gone now, so why don't we try to get out of here, before ol’ Kester wakes up. He can figure his own way to safety."
Dinks jumped into his mistress's arms and made himself comfortable. Meryl reached up to touch her pendant to be sure it was still secure where it belonged. Moving her lips in a silent chant, she waited for the darkness of time travel to engulf them and, hopefully, take her home this time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"We can't wait any longer,” the male voice insisted. “There are things she must know if she is to succeed."
"We cannot interfere,” the female countered with a sigh. “To help her is to bring her to her enemies. She must learn on her own, then they will not suspect."
"If we continue to leave her to her own devices, she'll never return home in time. Our cause will be lost. She must be taught, now."
The female bowed her head. She knew better than to continue a disagreement when her companion had made up his mind. Perhaps he did see the matter more clearly than she. Perhaps she felt a twinge of jealousy for this young woman. No matter. There would be no changing his mind now.
"You may be right. You often see things I can not. As you wish, my love,” she acquiesed to his decision. “I will not interfere. We can only hope she will be successful in her endeavors."
* * * *
Meryl kept her eyes tightly closed, waiting for the vertigo to pass. She hated this part of the time travel and wondered if there might be an easier way—one that would leave her stomach where it belonged. She hoped she was finally close to home. Dinks meowed and squirmed in her arms, impatient to be free.
"Shh,” she warned and held him a little more snugly. He reluctantly settled down.
Slowly, she opened her silver eyes and looked around. There was the town, a short distance away with people moving in and out the open gate. Occasionally, a guard stopped a newcomer and searched them and their belongings. Why did the scene look so familiar to her?
"
Uh oh,” she said, slowly and softly, glancing down at her pet. “I think we've come full circle. This can't be happening. We're back outside London.” Discovering she was back where she started so many months ago, didn't sit well. She placed one hand on her stomach and wished traveling through time weren't so upsetting. She felt as if she'd just climbed off a carnival ferris wheel. “Maybe we can find the time tunnel that brought us here.” She took a quick look behind her and realized there would be no way, nor any time, to find the tunnel. “Forget it. Tris said they were all one way tunnels, going the wrong way."
Dinks purred softly. “We might as well find out where we stand in time. I wish we could finally get home. Tristan is probably past worry and angry with me, by now.” Dinks snarled, reminding Meryl of the less than friendly relationship between the two males. “You'll just have to learn to get along. Let's go, time's a wastin'."
A couple hours later, Meryl stood in a short line waiting to gain entrance to the town. When it came her turn, the guard placed his hands about her waist, supposedly searching for weapons. One hand slid carefully to her shoulders, down her back and moved lower. Every place she landed, the powers that be saw fit to dress her appropriately. She wanted to know how they did it. It was obvious that the dress she wore now had no hiding places for any sort of weapon. “Get your hands off me,” she demanded angrily and pulled away.
The guard's eyes opened wide in recognition. “I remember you and them strange eyes. Your man said you was touched in the head.” He held her wrist in his strong grasp.
"Ohhhh ... Leave it to me to forget a little thing like that.” Meryl frantically yanked her wrist free from his grip and ran.
The guard pivoted on his heel and made to give chase, but stopped when a black cat, larger than a hunting hound blocked his path. The cat growled a warning, deep and menacing. The glare of its green eyes was enough to stop anyone in their path.
The Spellbinder: Highland Eyes Page 21