by Nhys Glover
“Don’t forget finding you a husband. That has been high on her list,” I joked.
She groaned. “Please, do not talk about it. After being with you and Asterius... I cannot bear the thought of another man touching me. I keep holding on to my virginity because I have been raised to believe it is not mine to give. It has always belonged to my husband. But I have met many, many patricians since coming to Rome and none of them heat my blood. Instead, they chill it.”
“What if we ran away?” I said suddenly, my heart racing at the idea. “What if we escaped this hole and got lost amongst the thousands of homeless citizens. It’s not impossible to travel without papers. I’ve proved that. We could go anywhere you wanted and we could marry and you could be a healer.”
Even as I said the words, I knew it wouldn’t work. Accalia could never leave her father or allow my pack-mates to think we were dead. And I could never force a life of privation onto her. It was one thing to almost starve for a few days, as we were doing now, it was another thing to live hand-to-mouth for the rest of her life. And watching her children suffer. She deserved better than that! Better than me.
“Choose one of you over the others, you mean?” she finally said, reminding me of our past conversation. “I could not do that. It would tear the others up thinking us dead. And Pater... I could not do that to him. He is a good and loving father. To let him think me dead... I may as well just thrust a dagger into his heart. You never saw him when Mater died. His heart was broken and never properly healed. Losing me would end it for him.”
She leaned in and kissed me yet again, long and tenderly. “I am sorry, Talos. Though my heart craves what you offer, I know it would also break if ever I took the selfish path.”
I returned her kiss, resolved to accept her decision. Taking her away from all she loved would be the most selfish and cruel act of my life. And I liked to think I was neither selfish nor cruel, especially where Accalia was concerned.
And so the hours and days passed. Eventually the food ran out, and I could tell from the weakness in my body that I couldn’t hold back the tide of time any longer. If I grew much weaker I wouldn’t be able to dig us out.
So, reluctantly, regretfully, I began my exploration of the chaos above our little haven. The first thing I noticed when I removed some of the debris from the holes was that the air was clearer, even if it didn’t smell that much better. Through the holes I saw daylight beyond, in beams that told me it was likely early morning.
I pushed and shoved at the burnt wood, testing it for stability. The last thing I wanted was to move the wrong beam and have the whole, unsteady structure come toppling down on top of us. It was a tedious and painful process of trial and error that seemed to take forever. Day turned to night and only exhaustion and the need to sleep and drink delayed my progress.
The more I cleared away, the more light and heat permeated our sanctuary. By that light, I could see just how grey and haggard Accalia looked. It cut me to the bone to realise I’d waited too long. I should have tried to get us out earlier than this. But not being able to see her had allowed me to believe she was all right. I’d tricked myself into giving in to my own selfish need to hold on to her for just a little longer.
On one of my many trips back down for water, Accalia looked at me closely with her healer’s face. “What is wrong? Are you in pain?”
I shrugged and tried to brush off her question. But this was Accalia, and she would not be put off.
“Talos, what is it? Are you too tired to do more? I could try. I am smaller and can probably fit through narrower openings...”
I sighed heavily and rubbed at my filthy face with my equally filthy hands. “I should’ve gotten you out before this. It’s you who’s not well, not me.”
She stood up tall and placed her hands on her hips in challenge. “If I wanted you to get me out earlier I would have told you. You were not the only one who was putting this off. I am well enough. Yes, I am hungry and could use a bath, but I am otherwise well. I imagine there are people out there far worse off than me.”
I grabbed her shoulders more forcefully than I should have, and she grimaced in pain. I let go immediately, but my vehemence wouldn’t be so readily put aside.
“I said I’d protect you, even from myself. And by putting off escaping I’ve broken my word. You’re half-dead. And that’s my fault!”
Accalia growled at me. It was such an absurd sound coming from her that it broke the tense moment and sent me into gales of helpless laughter.
“You are infuriating, do you know that?!” she cried, hitting me on the shoulder. “One minute you are claiming you have as good as killed me, the next you are laughing at me.”
I wiped the tears away and grinned broadly at her. “I didn’t say I killed you. I said you were half dead because of my selfishness.”
“And I said I was just as selfish. Or just as much at fault. And who knows whether it was even possible to get out before this. We won’t know what it is like out there until we get to the surface.”
I nodded and kissed her mouth. It was now second-nature to do it, and I loved how easily she came into my arms and how enthusiastically she responded, half-dead or not. I would miss this. I would miss her.
Eventually, though, long after I had begun to fear I wouldn’t have the strength to finish the task, I realised I’d managed to create a passage through the network of fallen and burned-out wood almost to the surface.
Freedom... or what passed for it for us... was just a few feet away.
Chapter Eleven
ACCALIA
I sat on the ground and waited, filling my mind with the memories I’d accumulated of the man above me. I loved the taste of him, the heat of him, the strength of him. There was something solid and reliable about how he dealt with life that made me feel safe and secure.
Like the way he worked on the hole he was creating. Another man might have pushed and shoved his way upward, paying little attention to whether he was unsettling the debris above us. Not Talos. Slow and steady was his way of dealing with life’s challenges. And this was another such challenge.
By taking his time he protected me. And I loved him for it. Just as I loved that he had kept his head when I had lost mine many times during our shared pleasure. I had almost begged him to fill my emptiness. But, though it cost him mightily, he always refused. Because of his strength of will my virginity was still saved for my husband.
There was only one thing I did not love about him. How he took the blame for our current position. That was totally mine.
He was not the one who raced into a burning building for a dead child and nearly lost his lover’s life doing it. That was me. And it was me who had been as reluctant to leave our little paradise as he was.
Talos loved his food, and he was a big man who needed a lot of it to keep him fuelled. I required little. And yet, instead of suggesting we try to escape, I had eaten more than my share of the bread, knowing he was in constant pain from hunger and weakening with every passing hour.
But hunger pains were nothing compared to the pain that would come when we left here. To lose him as I had lost Asterius would be like sticking a dagger into an open wound. I was not sure how I was going to stand it.
Sharing pleasure with him had been wonderful. His kisses and caresses were different to Asterius’ but no less heady and pleasurable. I loved him with every fibre of my being, and it had broken my heart to turn him down when he asked me to run away with him.
If I thought he would have been happy with just me, I might have considered it. But, the truth was, no matter what he might think, his pack-mates were as essential to his well-being as I was. No, more essential. He had survived without me all these months, but he couldn’t so easily survive without the brothers who had shared his every waking moment for nearly eleven years. And taking him from them—that would be the cruellest thing I could do. Other than letting them and my father think we were dead.
So I had rejected his offer, an
d he had accepted my decision. He knew, as I did, that it would never work. But it did not make it any less of a difficult choice or lessen the pain I felt at the prospect of losing him.
My life felt like a fast moving river. I was swept along beside my pack, sometimes getting to cling to them for a while, only to have the current separate us. Then it would bring us back together again, only tear us apart once more.
That each time it was a different member of my pack that I clung to didn’t matter. It felt the same. The joy of holding on; the grief of letting go.
How long would I be able to stand it before I finally let the river have its way, and I stopped struggling and let myself drop beneath the raging surface to find peace? I didn’t know. But, in this moment, that peace beckoned me too well. I was so bone weary and defeated that the future seemed barren and empty of hope.
Every time Talos climbed back up into his carefully constructed hole and again began the grinding, endless task of moving boards and rocks out of the way, I wondered how much longer he could go on without food. It seemed he filled his stomach with water more and more often, but it didn’t give him the energy he needed.
How many days had it been? One? Five? Somewhere between? If we did not get out soon I was afraid for him. Afraid for me.
A masculine cry, followed instantly by a low crunch and a deluge of small stones and dust drew me from my thoughts. My heart-rate spiked and a chill ran down my spine. Something had happened. Something bad!
Scrambling up the makeshift ladder Talos had created, I pushed my head into the hole above.
“Talos, are you all right?” I cried.
The only answer I received was a low moan.
Gods! He was hurt. I had to do something! If I had been thinking, I would have taken my medical bag with me, but I was panicking, terrified by the possibilities. A dagger of broken wood might have pierced him. A rock or beam might have fallen on his head. Anything!
Though I was weakened by lack of food, the panic gave me the energy I needed to crawl up through the network of fallen wood until I caught sight of his prone form.
Venus, don’t let him be dead! Not now. Not when we had found each other and grown closer than ever before!
Not caring about the risks I took, I scrambled on, closer and closer to the man I loved. He looked like an insect caught in a spider web of wood. It hurt to see my strong, protective lover so vulnerable. Because of me.
By the time I reached him I was beside myself with fear.
“Talos! Talos, please, speak to me. Tell me you’re all right!” I cried.
Another moan, and he moved an arm, no more.
I scrambled closer until I could see his face. It was a mask of agony. I grimaced in empathy and tried to see what had caused him his pain. As my gaze followed the lines of his body I saw the problem immediately. A sliver of burned wood protruded from his side. He must have fallen back onto it.
If the shaft had nicked his intestines or bowel he would be slowly poisoned. If it perforated his liver he would likely die. If an artery had been severed he would bleed out quickly once the wood was removed. Gods, what could I do? I could not work on him like this. Not while the stake still remained in his body. My healing would only work when the obstruction was removed. If it worked at all. I was so depleted, I was not even sure I could draw in the Light I would need to heal him.
I had to get help. That was the only answer. And I had to find it quickly.
Looking around the cramped space, I tried to identify an opening big enough for me to squeeze through. I did not have the time for the painstaking removal and repositioning Talos had undertaken. I had to get out and find help.
The light seemed to beckon me in one direction. I began climbing. Not far. Talos had almost done it. He had burrowed a hole within reach of freedom. Maybe being so close to his goal had made him careless. Or maybe he had been courting danger from the start, and it had finally caught up with him.
I heard shouts and the sound of crashing. Not the kind of crashes I had become used to when the fire burned out a support and brought a roof down. No, this was a varied and more methodical crashing, as if people were moving wood and throwing it aside.
The sky was just on the other side of the broken floorboards above me. There was a hole, but it wasn’t big enough for me to fit through. Pushing my arm up through the gap, I yelled for help at the top of my lungs, waving my hand around to try to attract attention.
At first it did no good. The voices went on, the regular crashing continued. I yelled again, making my voice hoarse with it, my arm bloody from the splinters of wood ripping into it.
“Help! Over here!” I yelled.
There was silence. Had they gone away? Were they looters and had found what they were looking for and were now going away?! No! They couldn’t leave us here. I could not get out any further on my own, and Talos needed help.
“Hello? Is someone there?” a tentative male voice yelled from somewhere close by.
I waved my arm as tears cascaded down my cheeks. “Over here! Help me! Over here!”
A warm, strong hand clasped mine, and I knew. I knew. Asterius! It was Asterius!
“Accalia? Are you all right?” His beloved voice sounded raspy with emotion.
“Yes... Yes, But Talos is not. He fell on a ragged piece of wood. I cannot heal him until it is removed. Can you get this off us? Please?”
“Talos? He found you? Gods, we thought him dead too. Wait. We’ll get this off you. Move back down a little in case something falls on you.”
I carefully extracted my arm from the jagged hole, not noticing the blood, and clambered down next to Talos.
“They’re coming. Hold on my love, our pack-mates are coming for us!” I told him with what was left of my voice.
I did not know if he heard me. Grabbing up his limp hand, I clung to it, clung to the Light inside him. I had to keep it in his body, that Light. If it faded or seeped away he would be dead.
The planks of woods started shifting overhead and more bright light seeped in from above. I could see the outline of a male body and then another as more wood and debris was moved away.
Finally, strong arms came down and looped around my armpits, dragging me upward into the bright, blazing heat beyond.
Asterius held me, his brown eyes liquid as he took me in before kissing me hard and possessively.
“Damn you, she-wolf! You scared the life out of me with this trick of yours!” he yelled at me.
I was crying now, partly from fear for Talos and partly from joy that we had been found.
“Get Talos! You can yell at me some more later,” I croaked.
Asterius let out a heavy sigh before handing me off, as if I was a child, to Orion. He kissed my forehead tenderly and passed me on to Typhon, who then carried me to safety.
As I lay on the cobbled stones of what had once been a lane and now appeared to be a line down the centre of a burned-out shell, I felt renewed horror claim me. Talos had been right. This was no small fire that had got out of hand, this was a disaster. And I could see smoke still rising from Esquiline Hill.
How long had it been? What was left of the city? Was it over?
But all thoughts of the city were shoved aside as Asterius and Orion carried Talos’ limp form down off the heaped pile that had kept us buried for so long. Typhon was there to take his weight, so the others could scramble down and continue their task of carrying him to my side.
As his torso was now naked—they must have torn the tunic off him as they pulled him free—I could see the wood was gone, although who knew if splinters remained. Blood was gushing from both wounds, front and back, and I began to panic anew.
“Your tunic!” I demanded of Typhon, who immediately yanked it off and offered it to me.
I bunched it into a wad and positioned it under the hole in his back. Orion handed me his tunic, and I wadded it up and pressed it into the wound on his front. The fabric was soaked through in seconds. Too much blood! He would bleed
out! His life’s blood was pouring out of him, and I could not stem the tide.
“Let me do that. You do your healing. It’s the only thing that will save him,” Orion ordered, pushing me gently aside so he could take my place holding his tunic against the gaping wound.
I skittered back a little out of the way and tried to calm my racing heart and mind. It could not end like this. We could not lose him now!
“Focus, Accalia! You can do this,” Typhon said, coming up behind me and pressing his hands into my shoulders. “You did it for me, you can do it for Talos. Focus!”
I had, had I not? Yes, I could do this!
I closed my eyes and let everything fade away. My fears, my pain, the heat of the day, the stench of burning and smell of smoke, even the hands holding me steady, all drifting away as I sought to see the Light inside the man beneath my hands and around me everywhere.
There! The Light threads began to appear. I saw Talos’ Light, still strong but fading fast. Fighting down another wave of terror, I looked for the Light around me. If I had to, I would use my own Light, but it was better if I drew on what surrounded and infused all things, even the air.
Yes, there! I saw it. I felt it. And I drew on it. It funnelled right through me and into the man I loved more than life itself. As I watched with my eyes closed, Talos’ Light began to brighten again. How long it took I could not guess. But through it all I held on, watching in wonder as the Light filled and began to overflow him, leaving him a glowing, radiant form so bright I could barely look at him.
Finally, the Light began to leave me. I withdrew my hands and opened my eyes. Orion was gently removing the bloody, sodden mess that had been his tunic from the front wound. It no longer bled. In fact, when I looked closer, all that remained of the gaping hole was a red and angry scar.
“Turn him,” I ordered softly, barely able to speak.