by Gordon, Eva
His lip twitched as it often did when agitated. “Tell me who he is.”
Guilt squeezed her rapidly beating heart. The timbre of her voice, no longer passive but demanding, “Promise me he won’t be assassinated!”
Gaius sat and sighed. He too hated killing to keep their secret. A physician preferred saving rather than taking lives. “Very well, but only if there is no danger to your life.”
Cassia trusted him more than anyone. Like a beloved father, he sat with her when she suffered from fever and held her when she was scared or hurt. He helped her hone her special talent of healing lycans without succumbing to whatever ill she was curing. Over the years with Feronia’s blessings, she had become adept at not feeling the pain transferred from the ailing lycan. On occasion, a terrible injury she healed would throw her into a fit, but of late that had been a rare occurrence. After a strong healing, she weakened and needed bed rest. Gauis made sure she never worked herself into a fit. She pressed her hands together. “I went by a blacksmith’s stall.” She sadly chuckled. “I gaped like a fish out of water at the man working at his station. He was fat but with strong muscular arms like any other blacksmith.” She cocked her head to the side as if studying him again. “Yet his black curls and the deep cleft on his chin reminded me of the boy. You know, Igal. The one who took care of me in the streets.”
Gaius stiffened. “The thin Judean boy?”
“Yes, but no longer thin. In fact, I doubted he was the same person so I stepped closer and pulled back my veil for a better look. That’s when he spotted me and shouted my name, Shifra.” She shook her head in amazement. “Imagine? How could he recognize me after all those years?” She smiled at the memory. “A woman, no longer a dirty street urchin.”
“What other woman would drop her veil and gaze at him with the same smoldering green eyes that first caught my attention. What happened next?”
“He left his stall and chased me. I ran through the crowds, and when the rains started I lost him.”
“Are you sure?” His brows creased in worry.
She nodded fervently. “I hid and looked around before coming home.”
Gauis flicked away a small bug from his arm. “Looks like the boy put his coins to good use as a blacksmith.” He smiled. “Good thing he didn’t catch my quick nymph.”
“Indeed. Lucky for me, his bulk must have tired him.”
He patted her shoulder in assurance. “Rome is big; you may never see him again.”
“At least I know not to go near his stall.” Part of her wanted to see him. A man who had belonged to her ancestral people. Vague memories of her beautiful alpha aunt danced in her head. A woman who had known her parents. An orphan always dreamt that she was once loved by her real mother and her real father.
***
Cassia sat in her room coiling up her hair into the latest fashion. She preferred to leave it down but out of respect wore it up. Petronia, the new head of the Lupercal, was paying them a visit. She had known Petronia, Albius’ sister, all her life. As supreme priestess of Feronia and leader of the Lupercal, Petronia traveled the entire Empire meeting and negotiating with foreign packs to adhere to Lupercal law. Though not a seer, Petronia’s great knowledge and wisdom was legendary. Like Gaius, Petronia insisted Cassia keep her gift a secret until she married into an alpha’s established pack. One outside Rome’s influence.
Gaius called, “Quick, Cassia. She’s here.”
Cassia dashed into the atrium as Petronia entered the outside gate. She joined Gaius at the door to greet their honored guest. She popped out of a litter carried by four large beta males. Petronia had silver-colored hair like her brother but unlike female lycans was only inches taller than Cassia’s petite height. Few outside her pack knew Petronia was born a runt. Her human mother refused to leave her out in the snow. She had been sickly, but had survived and became a fierce fighter and orator. At age thirty, she had become the youngest alpha female to head the Lupercal. Cassia admired her more than anyone.
Gaius raised his arms in welcome. They embraced. Petronia beamed as they broke their embrace. “For a Lupercii you don’t age.”
He gave her a roguish smile. “Fine living and love keep one a perpetual youth.”
Petronia turned her attention to Cassia. She gave her an approving glance. “My, you grow more beautiful each day.”
She bowed her head, casting her gaze down. “Thank you, domina.”
Gaius beckoned them in. “Come, domina. Ferox prepared a fine banquet. Enough for your den brothers, too.”
Petronia shook her head. “I will dine only with you and your assistant. Dismiss Ferox for the night. He can join my betas at a tavern.” She turned to her men. “Meet me here on the morrow after sunrise.”
Ferox looked mortified and turned to Cassia. “Domina, I am needed.”
Cassia wrapped her arm around his and handed him his cloak. “Do not worry. You made enough to feed hundreds and I do know how to serve.”
Ferox bowed, donned his cloak, and then followed the men out.
Her goat baaed from his enclosure. Cassia shouted, “Egid go back in, I promise I’ll bring you leftovers on the morrow.” She threw Petronia a sheepish smile. “He loves bread.”
Petronia glanced at the kid and her fangs emerged. She laughed. “I see you still tempt us with your pets.”
They walked in and made their way to the triclinium, their elaborate dining room. Petronia ignored the bread and olive oil, leeks, lettuce, and olives, the usual first course. Lycans seldom ate vegetables. Rounded pots contained a variety of meat delicacies provided for a lycan’s feral tastes. Cassia removed the pot lids. “Ferox made peacock brains to start and your favorite goose and lamprey. I’ll go get the lamb.”
Cassia walked from the kitchen and set the lamb in the center of the table. She grabbed the jug of fine wine. “Let me pour you some of the finest…”
Petronia ordered her, “Cassia, no one is here. You are a wolf maiden not a slave. Join us and I shall make the meal invocation for Feronia’s blessing.”
She smiled, sat, and closed her eyes as Petronia recited the special prayer in an ancient language made up of a lycan human tongue no longer spoken but by the alphas and Lupercii priests. The invocation over they reclined on their comfortable couches and ate their meal. Cassia started with olives and leeks while Gaius took Petronia’s lead and chewed on peacock brains.
Petronia sipped her wine and gazed at Cassia. “We must find you a mate soon.”
Cassia gave her a sidelong glance. “Why?” She assumed her gift of healing took precedence over finding an alpha mate.
“You are of child-bearing age and your bloodline carries the healing touch.”
Gaius frowned. “As long as she finds her true life mate.”
Petronia took offense and narrowed her eyes. “Of course a Feronia blessed true mate. Do you think I dare treat her as a mere breeder?”
He cast his head down. “No, my domina, it’s just that her alpha should be one of her heart and not one who wants her for her special gift.”
Feronia turned to Cassia. “Was there any alpha from my brother’s pack or nearby whom you felt drawn to?”
Cassia could not lie. The lycan children she played with as a child were like den siblings. None made her heart flutter. There might have been one, Corvis, but he had found his mate before she left. “No, none made my mark heat.” Only the slave gladiator had done that. She bit into the mushy peacock brain to slow her quickened pulse before Petronia noticed.
“Hmm. I leave for Gaul at the end of the week to look for a more appropriate home for the Lupercal.”
Gaius and Cassia looked at each other. “You are leaving Etruria?” Although their kind held the Lupercal cave below the Palatine Hill in Rome sacred, in actuality their true command center was in Etruria. The Lupercal cave was where a she-wolf suckled Romulus and Remus, founders of Rome. The Romans had made their lycan mating holiday Lupercalia their own. During the wild festival, lycans took care not to mix with humans who
knew little of the true meaning behind Lupercalia; the sacred time of mating.
Petronia laughed. “Feronia’s temple attracts too much attention despite our fierce guards. Below it, our caverns where we reside grow moldy, and we no longer meet there.”
Gaius shook his head. “Gaul?”
“The Empire is well established in Gaul, and there are high snow-capped mountains meant only for our kind. Distance and isolation will allow us lesser ties with humans. We shall gain a vast wild territory within the Roman Empire to call our own.”
Cassia’s eyes widened. “Will all the packs follow?”
“Of course not, only the Lupercal and my select packs. My brother Albius will remain in Aventicum. The other packs will keep their presence in their ancestral territories. Caninus in Rome and Lupus in Ravenna. Other packs which have strong ties throughout the empire may follow my brother in his territory.”
Gaius lifted a brow. “How will the Lupercal govern from such a far distance?”
“Over the years too many packs have fought to earn our favor and attempt to influence us. It is far better that we travel to and fro but stay in one hidden location to ensure our secret society is kept away from mankind.”
Cassia lifted a brow. “So I may eventually go to Gaul?”
“I believe it’s Feronia’s wish.” She turned to Gaius. “And you, too?”
He shook his head. “I will never leave Rome.”
She threw him a wry smile. “Not while Cato remains in the senate.”
Gaius blushed, chuckled, and drank from his cup. “I’m leaving with him in a few days to visit his family in Ravenna.”
“And what of your practice?”
Gaius lifted his cup toward Cassia. “I’m honored to announce that my apprentice physician, Cassia, can now be called a physician.”
Petronia swallowed a bit of the succulent lamb and licked her lips. “Congratulations.” She lifted her cup in tribute. They drank and she smiled. “Most impressive, we would love a healer to be near the Lupercal. Especially a Valeria Luperca.”
Cassia beamed. “I would be honored.” She hated leaving Gaius. Especially to go to Gaul, a far away land to the west. Sometimes she longed to leave Rome and return to her ancestral home. Childhood recollections of mountain springs above the desert, succulent dates, and the smell of the campfire haunted her memory. Then there were her feelings for the mysterious gladiator Ulric. Did she simply suffer from the appeal all women had for a popular gladiator? No doubt he had access to the prettiest prostitutes and rich noble women.
“Good.” Petronia finished her lamb and gracefully wiped her lip with a napkin. She turned to Gaius. “Are you sure Cassia should be left alone?”
He poured himself another cup of wine. “Cato is sending two burly men to stand guard at the gate.”
Cassia munched olives. “I told him only to send one, but he insisted.”
He shot her an avuncular smile. “And the surgery is left in Cassia’s capable hands.”
Cassia chuckled, “You should tour the medical room Gaius set up. If surgery is required, we have everything necessary. Even a hot mineral bath,” she boasted.
Gaius laughed. “It’s Cassia’s healing touch that sends them home.”
Petronia’s eyes darkened. “But none suspect?”
Gaius answered. “None, domina. We always ask the patient to close their eyes. Her touch makes them sleep. All they gather is that we are excellent surgeons and makers of healing potions.”
Cassia poured them more wine. “Of late, very few lycans come in for healing.” Most healed without medical intervention. “Aside from broken teeth and one smashed foot, there has been little action.”
Petronia exhaled a deep sigh. “And what of humans?”
Gaius sighed. “I no longer accept new human patients. It’s just too risky if a lycan should come in and can’t control his shift. But on occasion, I’m called to treat someone in their home.”
Petronia finished her wine and stood. “Well I must rise at dawn. Before I leave, I plan to have a word with Caninus Macula.”
Cassia’s heart sped despite the relaxing effect of her wine. Her mind raced to thoughts of Ulric. Would Petronia force Macula to free him or order his execution for shifting before thousands? “What for?”
“I wish to buy Ulric or at least convince Macula to stop using him for the games.”
“Buy him?” Her heart soared. Knowing Petronia, she would release him. Ulric free. To return to his beloved territory. She would never see him, but at least he would be happy.
“Macula keeps more than twenty barbarian betas as omegas for human entertainment.” Petronia tensed and her eyes darkened. “Enough is enough. We cannot allow him to display our lycans like mere human slaves.”
Gauis stole a furtive at Cassia and turned to Petronia. “I think Ulric is well suited to lead his own pack in Gaul.”
“I agree but…” Petronia furrowed her brow. “I doubt Macula will listen. Emperor Domitian has become fond of Ulric for the Bestiari games. Still it is worth a try.”
Gaius drained his cup as if for strength. “Apologies, domina, for my bluntness, but you must outlaw keeping our kind as omegas.”
Her tone, resolute, “I must first convince all the packs and the rest of my fellow council members. Nothing would please me more than freeing all enslaved lycans. Especially Ulric.”
Cassia sighed. A burden released from her heart. Her gift was not only one of healing, but one of empathy. She had sensed Ulric’s inner raging turmoil. He abhorred Rome. Who could blame him? Romans were insatiable bored citizens who experienced joy through the blood and suffering of others.
Chapter 3
Ulric nodded and sat on the stool inside the large stall. Over the years, Igal had become the best maker of the gladius and armor. “Did you attend my wolf hunt performance?”
Igal’s eyes grew solemn, and he lowered his voice, “It is pure irony is it not, that I, the creator of the finest gladius swords, do not attend the coliseum.”
Ulric understood. The blacksmith suffered great guilt because of the slaughter of his people in the arena. When they first had met, Ulric was an angry abused youth, chained, his back flailed from the lash. Ulric had struggled against his restraints and growled in warning.
Igal had not feared Ulric and had understood his rage. Macula had flogged Ulric into submission, but Igal had stopped him. The brave blacksmith had grabbed the alpha’s wrist with a firm grip and had stopped Ulric’s punishment. Igal said he would not work with them unless they left the young man under his care for one week. Macula, amused at the human’s courage, agreed but warned what would happen if the gladiator escaped. Igal had treated his wounds and shown him great kindness. He had told Ulric that they shared a bond. Their hatred for Rome.
Ulric curled a smile. At least one person had not seen him publicly weep for the loss of his pack. “I’m glad of it.”
Ulric recalled what Igal once said. “Someday, my friend, you and I will leave this godforsaken empire and start anew.” These words brought him great comfort.
Igal took a jug of watered wine and poured Ulric a cup. “My hands are just as bloodied as yours. In fact, more so, since I sin against my God’s command not to murder.”
“Take comfort. It isn’t the same. Surely Jewish gladiators use the gladius to fight and defend themselves.”
The big man fingered his mane of black curls. “You are the only gladiator I know that has lived this long. The curse of the wolf keeps you alive.”
“You are right. It is a curse. I often prefer death, but the beast within me is primal, wanting only to live, to relish in the hunt of the kill.” Ulric sighed and drank from his cup.
Igal creased his brow. “Remember how I told you of the extraordinary woman of Caesarea killed long ago by the Roman Legionaries?”
Ulric nodded. His friend needed to be careful. He whispered, “The woman who helped saved you and other children from the slave galley.” Igal had confided in him that
as a child he had met a woman who became a wolf and freed him and others while looking for her niece. Ulric enjoyed the tale about a she-wolf who killed many on a Roman galley. Igal said she was the only other shifter he’d known. Like everyone else, Igal did not speak of such Verspilles or wolf people. Even those who suspected their kind existed kept it to themselves. Men found beheaded and left in fields as an example struck the Romans with deep fear of the consequences of exposing their secret.
Igal stole a cautious glance around and leaned close, “A few days ago I swear I saw the child that belonged to our liberator.”
“Are you sure? You said the child was but five years of age when you saw her taken by the two Romans.”
Igal slurped his wine and shook his head, his voice low, “The woman recognized me. I saw it in her eyes. I called out to her by her name ‘Shifra’ and she took off on a dead run.”
Ulric laughed. “I imagine a woman seeing a big bull of a man advance toward her would run perhaps fearing you planned to rut.”
Igal glared at him. “I do not rut. I have a wife.”
“I only jest, my friend. Like a wolf, you’re loyal to your mate.” Ulric looked at the crowd of people that strolled nearby. He sniffed. All strangers and none lycan. He remembered a person’s scent more than their face. “Tell me about the men who took the child.”
He shook his head. “Too dangerous.” He whispered in his ear, “They were like you, like the wolf woman.”
Ulric tried not to flinch from the whisper which almost blasted his ear. It made perfect sense. If the child were lycan or a wolf maiden, a fellow lycan would adopt her. “Yes, it would be best to keep quiet about such things, my friend. Anyway, look at everyone.” He pointed at the hundreds of people milling around. “How can you even think of recognizing someone from so long ago? The woman must be an adult and married with a brood of children.”
Igal shook his head. “I’ll never forget her green eyes and lush brown hair with tones of burnt red sunlight gleaming from it. Besides, I’m certain she recognized me.” The big man stood and stretched. “Let me get your gladius.”