by Nhys Glover
‘What?’ He jerked away from her so he could look deeply into her eyes.
‘When I saw him in my dream, I lay down at his side and wrapped him in my arms as I told him we were coming. He slept more soundly because of it.’
He glanced away, seemingly caught between the desire to believe she comforted his son and the certain knowledge that it was impossible to do such a thing in dreams.
‘Tell me.’
‘Cal has dark hair and olive skin like you. He looks like a small version of you. He has the thickest, darkest lashes I’ve ever seen on a child. But his eyes aren’t brown like yours, they’re blue. Dark blue. He has lost his baby fat and is all bony knees and elbows. His hair is a little longer than I would think a Roman child would normally wear it. The ends curl up.’
She paused for a moment as she tried to remember more details. What could distinguish him from any other four-year-old Roman boy? Then she had it.
‘On the side of his neck, just below his ear, there’s a dark round blemish the size of my little fingernail. It’s usually hidden by the curls at his ear.’
Cal’s father, who had dropped his arm from around her as they seated themselves on the bench, now put his arm back around her, and squeezed her tightly. His relief washed over her in an almost tangible wave.
So she had said enough to convince him.
‘Last night, in his sleep, he kept rubbing at his top lip, as if it irritated him. I don’t suppose that was anything more than a bed bug at work.’
‘No,’ the serious man at her side said. ‘It’s a habit of his when he sleeps. I’ve never seen him do it when he’s awake. But when he sleeps he wipes at his top lip with the side of his index finger. I think it’s left over from when he used to suck his thumb. It’s like he remembers he’s not a baby anymore and stops himself from putting his thumb in his mouth at the last moment.’
‘Hah, yes, that’s exactly what it looked like. I didn’t know he sucked his thumb. Of course, I’ve never seen him asleep before. That dream was unlike any I’ve ever had before. It wasn’t bad. I always have bad dreams. This one was comforting.’
‘Brennwen,’ he looked at her with hopeful eyes. ‘Can I call you Brennwen? You have put my fears to rest with your words. Thank you.’
‘Of course, sir. And I’m glad I could put your doubts to rest. Doubt is very draining.’
‘Not sir. Call me Gaius. You aren’t my slave. You’re a woman who’s helping me greatly. I shouldn’t be sir to such a woman.’
‘Gaius. A good, strong name. What does it mean?’
He frowned for a moment before smiling. ‘I’d never thought on it before, but it means happy. I don’t think it fits me very well. I was only truly happy for a year of my life.’
‘When was that?’
‘When Calidia was my wife.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I. She died giving me what I most desired. Then I realised that she was what I most desired.’
‘Men die in battle, women in childbirth. Life is filled with dangers. You weren’t responsible.’
He started to argue and then shook his head instead. ‘I know that. Logically, I know that. It just doesn’t feel like that sometimes. I was so driven to have the perfect life. Since I was a child, I’ve striven for some ideal that was just beyond my grasp. When I joined the infantry, I thought I was meant for glory. Instead, I build roads and bridges.
‘Then I looked at Lara’s life and decided I wanted what she had – the loving marriage, the beautiful children, surrounded by people who cared for and respected her. And I went after those, not caring if my wife paid the ultimate price for my aspirations.’
‘You only wanted what everyone wants. It’s not wrong to want to be happy.’
‘What have you wanted, Brennwen? Your name means white raven in your tongue, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes, white raven. And I wanted… to be accepted and not feared. I wanted to not be afraid. I wanted to be loved.’ She couldn’t keep the sadness out of her voice.
‘Your name suits you, but what did Leonis call you – Snow Maiden? I like that better.’
‘I’m no maiden. That was taken from me years ago.’
The hand that was not holding her to his side came to rest over hers in her lap. She was once more reminded of a dove sheltered beneath the wings of an eagle.
‘I’m sorry your life has been so… hard. You didn’t deserve it.’
She said nothing, nor moved her hands. It felt odd to be having such a deep conversation with this stranger so close to forty rough soldiers. Yet, it was as if they had been granted privacy, distanced from ordinary men by her companion’s power and status. For the first time in her life, she appreciated what it must be like to be part of the upper class.
And yet, if Gaius was to be believed, it had brought him no happiness. Maybe everyone looked on others’ lives and saw them as happier than their own. She didn’t know.
Londinium BRITANNIA
Lucullus paced his quarters like a caged beast. He hated that he was confined in this way while Bibulus raced north to save his son. Lucullus wanted to find and destroy the bastards who had perpetrated this crime immediately. Not just because they were rebels trying to stand up against the Roman Empire; not just because they were intent on taking his own life; but because they had chosen such a loathsome way to achieve their ends. Stealing children was an abomination. And to have stolen the child of one of his hardest working, loyal and capable friends was the worst kind of crime.
He didn’t know how much faith could be placed in the seer who had approached Bibulus with her tale, but he did trust the man’s instincts. In the years he’d known him, here and in Magna Germania, Bibulus was rarely wrong. So he would trust him on this, and do his part.
By his calculations, the horsemen that had taken the child would not reach their destination for seven days after the abduction. Bibulus would arrive about the same time, or a little earlier, travelling by sea. His men would be a day behind.
Lucullus needed to make sure he didn’t engage the rebels until the sixteenth, to make sure that any warriors who survived the trap couldn’t get to the North to exact vengeance on the child before Bibulus had a chance to find and free him.
It would take foot legionaries two and a half days at fast march to reach the northern border of Catuvellauni territory, the expected location for the trap. That meant he couldn’t move his troops until two or three days before that. So he had to stay in hiding until the Ides of April, the thirteenth.
If he let it be known tomorrow that he was well, the rebels would get their demands to him then.
But wouldn’t Bibulus be expected to travel north with him to negotiate for his son’s safe return? Wouldn’t it be suspicious if he was missing during this interim period? Certainly, he might be seen to have gone in search of the riders who took his boy, but when no sign of them was found he would have returned home.
This was an unforseen problem that might undermine all of their planning. What if he could find someone who looked enough like Bibulus from a distance to play the role? Who would look too closely at a roman in toga, surrounded by guards? No one.
But finding such a man would be difficult, especially in short order. He decided to have his men start looking for a candidate now. Secretly, of course. Everything must be covert.
How he hated to hide and whisper in secret. That was what had cost his father his kingdom here in Britannia all those years ago. Jealousy, betrayal and secrets. He much preferred the direct approach.
But his preferences were irrelevant. His job was to stick to Bibulus’ plan and hope it worked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Petuaria, Brigantes Territory BRITANNIA
They were assigned a room in the officer’s quarters of the fort at Petuaria. Gaius didn’t like bringing the fragile Brennwen into such a male-dominated environment, but he was at least assured of their safety in such a place. It was also cleaner than most posting stations set up on Roman
roads, and even had a bath house.
Not that Brennwen could make use of a bathhouse in a fort. But he could, and did as soon as he was settled in the room. Before he left her, he ordered hot water sent to their room so she, too, could clean off the salt spray and sweat of the day.
He’d allowed the men he met during the long day on board ship to assume he and Brennwen were bedmates. It was not uncommon for unaccompanied Roman men to take local women to their beds. That many of the soldiers had appeared nervous around the girl only served to make him more protective of her. Without his influence, he hated to think what might have become of her in a place like the fort.
She seemed to incite the worst kind of emotions from others, not for anything she did, but simply because of the way she looked. It hurt him to imagine the life she’d been forced to lead because of her unusual colouring. Superstitious fools were always too quick to make something unusual into a threat.
The meal time in the officer’s mess was passed by the time they were settled and bathed, so Gaius had a tray of food delivered to their room. He would have to make time for the commanding officer before they left the next morning, to give him updates on Lucullus’ plans and gain information on the local area. But that wouldn’t take long. Neither he nor the legate had time for chit chat.
After the tray was removed, Gaius became more conscious of the bed in the small room. It was not wide enough to comfortably sleep two, but it was too cold for sleeping on the floor. It had been a long time since he’d slept with a woman. He’d taken to using the prostitutes in Londinium when he had to, but he never slept with them.
No, the last and only time he had slept beside a woman was Calidia, four long years ago.
Brennwen had become increasingly edgy since they’d been assigned the room. He could tell she was afraid that he would avail himself of her body. How could she not when there was only one bed they’d be forced to share? But he wouldn’t try to take her. Not only was she a damaged woman who wouldn’t welcome his advances, but she was helping him save his son. For that alone he owed her more than he could possibly repay.
But how to let her know she was safe from his unwanted attentions was the problem. Every way he tried to phrase it in his head came out wrong. In the end, he decided to address the issue head-on, and just hope she understood he meant her no harm.
‘This will be the first of several nights when we’ll be forced to sleep together. Do not fear that I will expect anything of you. I’m not like the men you’ve known in the past.’
Her head jerked up and she stared at him with those disconcerting silver eyes, darkened to grey in the small, lamplit room.
‘That’s not what I heard the soldiers saying.’
‘That’s what I want them to think. That way, you’re kept safe. You’re seen as mine. But I don’t plan to use you that way. I never take unwilling women. You needn’t worry on that account.’
She nodded and began to undress slowly. Hastily, he turned away to do the same. No matter what he’d told her, his body was reacting to their proximity and there was nothing he could do to stop it. When he heard her slide into the bed, he did the same. He’d kept on his loincloth, but removed everything else. As his skin came in contact with hers, he realised she was naked. Did Celts sleep naked beneath their furs?
Steeling his body against the contact, he tried to settle into his side of the small soldier’s pallet. She was so tiny that she barely took up any space at all, and he wasn’t a big man, but it was still a tight squeeze. Officer’s quarters were not for couples. They were for single men. Men with wives or bedmates slept elsewhere. Even the commander kept a small villa for his wife in the town nearby.
‘Thank you for treating me with respect…’ Her soft, breathy voice was almost too low to be heard as he turned down the lamp.
He leaned in and kissed her soft lips. ‘You’re welcome.’
Brennwen jerked away. As he realised what he’d done, he swore under his breath.
‘I meant nothing by that. It was automatic. When I was a child, my nurse would kiss me when I thanked her. I think she was training me to be polite. I would kiss Calidia or Cal that way, too, if they thanked me. It means nothing.’ He lay down and stared up at the ceiling, regretting his thoughtless action. Of course she would misunderstand the kiss. She was naked in his bed, by the gods, how else was she to take it?
‘I’m sorry I misunderstood. I’m not used to displays of affection. Could… Could we do that again?’
He closed his eyes tightly, trying to bring his wayward body under control. ‘It isn’t necessary. I shouldn’t have done it. A silly habit, that’s all.’
‘Please. I know now what you meant by it. I would like to learn to accept such gestures of affection. It is what normal people share.’
‘All right,’ he finally agreed tiredly, grimacing at her use of the word normal. What must it be like to never see yourself as normal? For him, he was in every way normal, average and unexceptional. This was the first time he’d begun to see those traits as positive.
‘Thank you for treating me with respect, Gaius,’ she parroted off her earlier words.
He turned on his side and leaned over to kiss her lips chastely. ‘You’re welcome, Brennwen.’
For a long moment, they stared at each other as the tension built between them.
‘Thank you, Gaius,’ she said again, breathlessly.
He leaned in to kiss her soft lips once more. This time, he kept the contact a little longer. When he lifted his lips from hers, he repeated, ‘You’re welcome, little snow maiden.’
‘Thank you…’ she said again, her colourless lips opening slightly as she breathed through her mouth.
He could feel the warm skin of her side against his chest and he fought the urge to touch her in other ways. Slowly, languidly, he stroked his lips across hers, truly tasting her for the first time with the tip of his tongue.
She started back at the contact like a nervous filly. He cursed his urges that wanted to push for more. What he was doing was crazy. And wrong. This was not what he’d wanted when he started this conversation.
‘I thought this was affection. You said you wouldn’t take me…’
He shook his head and ran his finger down the side of her cheek. He could barely see her in the dark room, but he could sense her emotions, and they were in turmoil.
‘I won’t take you,’ he said as he moved closer to capture her lips again.
He shouldn’t be doing this. If she became scared, she might run from him. He needed her to find his son. Cal was the only thing that was important.
But even as those desperate thoughts battered at his brain, his lips sought hers, so soft and warm. Not cold as she looked, but warm like the rest of her silky skin.
‘You’re the same as every other man,’ she accused him stoically, her lips unmoving under his.
‘I won’t take you, Brennwen. I have never used a woman that way.’ He spoke against her unresponsive, accusing lips, breathing his warm breath onto them as he spoke. She smelled of the wine they’d shared at dinner. He hoped he did, too.
‘You are the master of slaves. Of course you’ve used a woman that way. She may not have said no, but that doesn’t mean she was willing.’ Her voice was cold now, with an edge of steel.
‘I have never taken any of my slaves.’
‘Why? That’s what they’re for, isn’t it? You buy them to meet your needs.’ He shook his head and rested his forehead against hers. She was so fragile, so damaged, but something in her was beginning to call to him as no other ever had. Not even Calidia. He needed her to understand, he needed her not to be afraid of him. Yet he did lust after her, just as she accused him of.
Slowly, painfully, he began to explain as best he could. ‘In my home, my mother was… a bitch in heat. She used our slaves to meet her desires. Not out in the open, as it is illegal by Roman Law for a wife to bed a slave, but behind closed doors. We all knew what she did, even my father, though he preferred to t
urn a blind eye to it. She even used Lara’s husband, Vali, in that way.
‘So our slaves were always wary. I could tell when the women tried to stay out of my way, tried not to attract my attention. They didn’t need to tell me no; I could see it in their eyes. Even when I was a randy youth, the idea of making use of our women in that way didn’t appeal.’ He lay back on his side of the bed as he became lost in his memories.
‘My father offered to buy me a bedslave. He had Elaeni, our cook, as his bedmate before he married my mother, and so he thought I should have a woman of my own, too. But I didn’t want a woman who didn’t want me. So my father took me to prostitutes instead. At least they were pleased to have me. That I wasn’t handsome didn’t matter to them, as long as I had money to pay them.’
‘You are handsome.’
Gaius barely heard her words, they were whispered so softly. He held his breath and hoped she’d say more.
‘They avoided you out of fear, not because you weren’t handsome.’
This time the words were louder, even if they still sounded reluctantly uttered.
‘Why would they fear me? I was a boy. An untried boy. I know my mother was feared by our slaves, but they had to know I wasn’t like her. I wasn’t like my vindictive sister or younger brother, either.
‘Publius, my brother, sodomised Lara’s slave in front of her when both girls were thirteen. If I’d been there, it never would have happened. But I’d gone to fulfil my military service by then. Lara…Lara was the only one who liked me in that household, but she was six years my junior, and a girl. To the boy I was back then, that counted for nothing.’
‘It isn’t about you; it’s your position they feared. When a person can’t say no, they fear anyone who has that power over them.’
He shook his head. ‘My slaves don’t fear me.’
‘Now. Now you are a man and they know you. Back then, you were an untried boy in the household of a senator. You were in a position to have anything you wanted. They didn’t know what you might want if lust took over.’