by Lisa Shea
Robert brought a tone of disapproval into his voice. “Did your soldiers even check your prisoners over before bringing them in? Did you look even for the most rudimentary signs of disease?”
Robert waved me over, and I stepped into the pool of light in the doorway. I held out my hands.
The blackness shone in the flickering light.
I could hear the guard’s panicked gasp; hear the mumble of his prayers. Clearly the man had forgotten that religion was now a thing of the past.
“There’s more,” snapped Robert. He pulled up my sleeves to show the welts and boils. He drew up my nightgown’s length to show the legs.
There was a stumbling noise – the guard must have fallen back against the stairs.
Robert’s brows drew together in menace. “If we don’t get them out of here – all of them – then the whole church will become infected. And then the street – and the city –
“My family lives two blocks over!” cried the guard. “My God, is it too late?”
“I have to get these prisoners into the deep countryside and burn them,” insisted Robert. “It’s the only way. And you should come with me so –”
“No, no,” countered the guard, his voice already retreating up the stairs. “What can I do? I touched her!”
“Get to the river, quick,” instructed Robert. “You don’t want to use the public baths. You could start an infection which kills half of Paris. The river has a large enough volume to handle one person. Immerse in it for at least two full hours. Keep only your mouth above the surface. And under no circumstances speak to or touch any other person. If this were to spread, and your family to become infected –”
“The river! The river!” cried the guard, and his thundering footsteps raced away.
Robert rounded on the rest of us. “Quick. All of you. Strip down to your simplest underclothes and follow me.”
My father, stepmother, and I were already in our light shifts, but Mary, Anna, and Sofia did as asked without hesitation. In a moment all of us were in simple, long white dresses with little sign of our once wealthy positions in life. The grime of the cellar quickly covered the better quality of the fabric.
And then we were moving up the stairs.
Robert retrieved his sword and belt from a table by the top of the stairs. Apparently the guard had made him remove those before descending to work with the prisoners. And then we were in motion again. The remaining soldiers were asleep in the fine lodgings of the priest who had once watched over the church. It seemed they figured the small group of aristocrats could be managed by the guard on duty, the prisoners securely locked within the depths of the church.
And now we were carefully pushing open the main door.
Robert glanced left and right down the dark, deserted street. “All right. Let’s go.”
The others streamed toward the coach, racing to pull open its door and climb within its black walls.
I sprinted after them – and my blackened feet gave way. The agony which shot through my body caused red fire to swirl across my vision.
Robert swooped me up into his arms. “I’ve got you, Elizabeth.”
I coughed out, “I’m sorry, I –”
He shook his head. “Don’t ever say that. Not with what you’ve been through. You just hang on.”
He lifted me up to sit on the front seat.
I looked down at the coach. “Wouldn’t it be better if I was inside with the others?”
He shook his head. “We want your malady to be clear and visible. So those at checkpoints pass us right through without question.” He ran a hand down my cheek, and his voice dropped. “And, more than that, I want you near me. For it still stuns me that you are real. That … that we are real.”
I held his gaze. “We are.”
For a long moment he was lost.
And then we set into motion.
The Paris sky was just beginning to tint with golden color as we moved through its quiet streets. Robert’s carriage was black, plain, and labeled with his doctor’s title in small script on each closed door. The few guards we passed waved us through without a second glance.
My hands clutched tightly at the sides of my seat. “What if we’re stopped? What if we’re caught?”
He glanced down to the sword at his hip. “Then we fight until we cannot fight any more.”
We wended our way past markets just laying out their wares and sleepy maids beginning their rounds of chores. A mangy dog watched us go past, barely raising his head.
An arched gate rose up before us.
The massive doors were shut.
Robert glanced over, his voice low. “This is it. We get through this, and it’s open road before us. My men are waiting about a mile out, in a cluster of trees. We make it to them and we’re safe.”
He looked ahead – and paled.
There, standing at the center of a dozen burly guards, stood the grey-haired soldier who had dragged me from my home.
Robert’s hand dropped to the sword at his hip. “What is Charles doing here?”
Charles turned at the sound of the hoofbeat. His brow drew together and he began walking toward us.
Robert reined in and eased his sword an inch from its scabbard. “Stay by me,” he warned.
I nodded.
Charles was nearly at us …
An older woman with steel-grey hair, carrying a bundle, came bursting toward us. “Doctor! Doctor!” Behind her I could hear a clamor of angry voices.
Robert looked across me to where the woman approached.
I blinked.
It was Professor Cooper. But she had been beaten down by life, carved away by woes, and in her hands she carried a young child. The child’s hand and feet carried a blackness which mimicked my own – but which I knew came from a very different source.
She held the child up toward us, giving a frightened glance at the crowd coming in. “You must help me. My sister died last week, and the young girl is ill. They want to burn her!”
Before us, Charles drew to a halt, his eyes focused sharply on the sick child. They then moved up to stare at me, taking in my blackened hands and feet.
Robert bunched the reins in his hand, his body tensing. “Hold on tight.”
He was going to make a run for it.
I shook my head, keeping my voice low. “They’d have every soldier in Paris out after us. There is no way we could survive.”
Robert’s jaw hardened. “Then what –”
I reached down for the baby.
Robert’s voice was sheer anguish. “Elizabeth, no.”
I took the young child up in my arms, nestling the swaddling so it formed a shield over the toddler’s nose and mouth. I had to balance the child carefully in my blackened hands, for my fingers screamed in pain and could barely bend.
The crowd swarmed in on all sides, their voices high. Calls for burning came from all corners.
Charles’s eyes moved steadily from my marked body to the form I cradled in my arms.
He pushed his way through the crowd to Robert’s side of the coach. “You. Doctor. It’s clear what you found during your examinations.” He glanced at the shut gates. “Is it your intention to take them into the open countryside? To do your … your task there?”
Robert nodded. “It’s the only way to ensure the contagion does not spread.”
Charles’s eyes held his. “You will be forced to be in contact with them. Do you intend to return?”
“There is a hermitage near the site. It’s secluded. I will remain alone for a month, to ensure I do not develop any symptoms. If I remain healthy, I will return here to do my chosen work. If, instead, I come down with the disease, then I will simply remain in my cell. My caregivers will pass food in to me until I reach the end.”
Charles drew his eyes between us. At last he nodded in satisfaction. “You show true courage, to risk such dangers for the good of others.”
Robert kept his tone even. “There are countless innocents at
risk. I will do whatever it takes to guarantee their safety.”
Charles stepped further back, waving at the guards to open the gates. “Then we wish you God speed.”
A flick of the reins, a rumble, and we were passing beneath the arch of the gates.
We were free.
I held my breath as we crossed the long meadow … as we descended the hill into the copse of trees … but there was no sound of pursuit. No clamor of guard and hoofbeat.
At last Robert’s shoulders eased. His eyes were shadowed as he turned to me. “Elizabeth, I’m so sorry.”
I cradled the young child in my arms. “She’s made it a week. It’s likely she’ll pull through, if she’s lasted this long.”
His voice was hoarse. “But you …”
I looked down at the pale child. “The bedding looks clean and free of lice. I imagine the aunt cleaned and re-clothed the baby in her own home. And without those lice, it’s unlikely I’ll catch anything from this innocent. She will have a chance at a new life, just as we shall.”
He drew his eyes up to mine. “Whatever fate befalls you, I will stay by your side. In sickness and in health.”
I smiled, looking at our meager clothing. “In richness and in poorness.”
He placed his hand over mine. “Until death do we part.”
My voice was a whisper. “Stay with me.”
He nodded.
There was a rustling in the trees, and he almost turned. He almost dropped his hand from mine to move to his sword.
And then he met my gaze again, and he nodded.
We were whole.
The world swirled, twisted, and spiraled up … up … up …
It shimmered …
*
Seagulls cried out high overhead as I looked from a busy wharf out at a sunlit sea. Stunning ships clustered as far as the eye could see. They had wooden prows decorated with rich carvings and medallions. Large, white sails billowed above. Banks of oars stuck out from either side. The designs were … Greek? No, Egyptian.
I looked behind me. Massive grey and tan stone structures loomed high – towers, keeps, temples, and more. The women wore long, white tunics while the men often had on simple fabric wrapped around their waist. Most wore sandals. And over there –
My heart leapt into my throat. Clearly those were Roman centurions. They were agitatedly talking and pointing across the river.
I turned, taking in the scene more fully.
I was in Alexandria, Egypt, on the banks of the Mediterranean Sea.
Caesar’s forces were surrounded.
And the battle was about to begin.
10 – Caesar Destiny
My heart pounded against my ribs as I took in the wharf scene with new eyes. That activity around me wasn’t the contented bustle of commerce. It was sailors and merchants desperate to keep their wares from being destroyed when the massive twenty-thousand-strong forces of Achillas came blasting into destroy Alexandria, Caesar, and everything else in their path. The Romans had had enough of Caesar’s love affair with Egypt and Cleopatra. They had enlisted the powerful Egyptian general to finish Caesar off.
They wanted to utterly destroy him.
My father came hurrying up to me, elegantly dressed in a long, white tunic embroidered with geometric designs. “My dear, we must hurry! Caesar has threatened to set his ships afire, rather than see them fall into enemy hands. And it looks like they’re serious about that threat. If that fleet goes up, it could easily spread to the dock. And all that is so precious will be lost!”
My stepmother came up to us, a large, wooden box in her arms. “This is the last one for this wagon, and we have another empty wagon waiting.” Her hair was done in an elaborate updo; her tunic was shimmering orange, decorated with gold thread.
I turned to look where she had come from.
There were crates and crates lined up along the wharf. Perhaps they had just been unloaded from an arriving ship. I walked over to the stack and lifted a lid. What would I find in there? Precious gems? Exotic fabrics? Spices worth their weight in gold?
Scrolls.
The crates were jam-packed with piles and piles of tightly rolled papyrus scrolls.
The books of the ancient world.
I looked up at my father in shock. “My stepmother is frantic over scrolls?”
A wry grin came to his face. “I know. She used to hate reading. Said there wasn’t any reason to think about the past. But I think those dreams of hers have affected her. It’s made her think more about what she has in life – and about those who have come before us.”
I blinked at that. I’d known that Robert had had dreams, but it never had occurred to me that others in our circle might be impacted by these events. If my stepmother had been awakened to new possibilities, could it mean …
Mary came running over, with Anna and Sofia in tow. All three of them wore lovely dresses in flowing fabrics of blue, white, and red. Mary reported, “We’re starting in on the second wagon.”
My father nodded. “All right. I’ll go take the first wagon over to the library for safe-keeping. You girls stay safe. If the flames get too close, leave the scrolls. Get to shelter.”
All three women nodded and raced back to their task.
My stepmother climbed into the wagon, my father took up the reins, and they were off to the library.
I looked around me. If the others were here, then where was Robert?
Whoosh.
A massive fireball billowed up from one of the ships in the center of the fleet. The flames must have towered thirty feet or more into the sky. The ship was a quinquereme – a massive five-banked system of a full ninety oars on each side. A formidable warship – and now it was completely aflame.
Cries of panic came from all around me as desperate merchants raced to gather up wares.
Mary, Anna, and Sofia ran to my side. Sofia’s voice was shrill. “It’s begun! What do we do?”
“Get on the wagon,” I ordered. “What you’ve got will have to be enough. Leave the rest.”
Mary looked back at the stack of boxes. “But –”
Whoosh.
Another ship went alight, this one closer. We could feel the heat of it on our cheeks.
Anna and Sofia’s feet were in motion.
Mary looked to me. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll be along shortly,” I promised. “I just need to do something first.”
Concern creased her eyes, but she nodded and leapt into the driver’s seat. A flick of the whip and they were rumbling their way up the hill to the main city.
I looked around me, my pulse pounding in my ears. Where was he? Surely he would be nearby –
The sound of steel on steel rang out from the streets to the west. The battle was nearing.
Whoosh.
Up went two more ships. The Romans were making absolutely sure that their own vessels could not be used against them by Achillas’s forces.
The cries of battle grew louder.
I clenched my hands, my resolve growing.
I ran toward the sound.
I dodged around sailors and climbed over abandoned piles of rope, going opposite the stream of panicked locals. I rounded a corner –
The main street was awash in soldiers, both Caesar’s forces and Achillas’s, with swords raining down on sword, shield, and sometimes soft flesh. I scanned … scanned …
There.
Robert was in full Centurion gear, from the leather breastplate to the crimson sleeves and tunic. His legs were protected by leather greaves. He must have lost his helmet during the fighting – his dark hair was cut short and gleamed with sweat. He was facing off against two enemies at once, and the sea of combatants swelled by the minute.
A third Egyptian soldier came up from behind …
“Robert!” I screamed, grabbing up a softball-sized rock and racing forward. I flung it with all my might at the third Egyptian’s head.
It landed solidly, and he cried out in rage,
turning to face me.
Robert spun, slicing him neatly across the midsection. The Egyptian fell back, screaming, clutching at his stomach.
One of the two main combatants dove in with his knife, cutting at the back of Robert’s leg.
Robert howled in pain, then turned, sword out, and caught that man beneath his arm. The man flailed backward, dropping his sword.
Robert whirled his sword high and drove it down into the remaining man’s head.
He dropped like a stone.
Robert staggered to one knee, pressing at his leg wound. His voice rose high to echo along the walls. “Retreat! Retreat!”
I raced to Robert’s side. “How bad is it?”
He stared at me in shock. It was a moment before he found his voice. “It is you. You who I have sought for so long. But … you are Egyptian?” He shook his head. “In my dreams you were called Elizabeth.”
“Never mind that,” I insisted, tucking myself beneath his arm. “We have to get you to safety.”
As I drew him back to his feet, a pair of soldiers came up to him. “That’s everyone accounted for, Commander. Shall we help –”
He waved them away. “Regroup below and set up a defensive perimeter. Make sure those ships get sunk to the bottom of the sea.”
They saluted him and raced down the path.
Robert turned to me, his brow still creased in disbelief. “I had thought … after all this time I had assumed we would meet when I returned to Rome. Once this campaign was complete and Caesar and Cleopatra had solidified their hold on this accursed desert land. May their reign last decades.”
I shook my head. “Caesar’s reign will last three brief years. When his end comes, it will be by the hands of his own senate.”
Robert stared at me in shock. “Are you sure?”
Angry shouts came from above us, and I pulled him with me. “We have to get you to safety. There isn’t time.”
We stumbled down toward the docks.
Out of the shadows before us leapt an Egyptian soldier in white leather-looking armor. He held his bronze sickle-sword high.
Robert dove in front of me, barely catching the Egyptian’s blow with his own sword. The sword-work became fast and furious, and I pressed against the rough stone wall. Robert’s arm blossomed with blood, and the Egyptian drove in –