Faithful

by Carol Ashby

Galen and Adela rode down the market street with Galen scanning the storefronts. When he passed one filled with the sound of men laughing, he reined in.

  “This one’s lively, just the place where a man might find someone drunk and eager to gamble. And we know Gundahar likes a drunken opponent at tabula.” His mouth curved as his gaze settled on Adela. “It’s a good thing Otto plays it better, even when he’s full of beer.”

  Adela didn’t return his smile. “He won me playing dice. No skill needed there. It’s all chance if the dice are honest.”

  “It might not have been Otto’s skill that won you, but it wasn’t chance.” Not chance at all. God wanted us to rescue you. “And it won’t be chance that frees Otto, either.”

  They dismounted, and Galen tied Otto’s bay to Astrelo’s saddle. His brow furrowed as he glanced at Adela. Even wearing his clothes with her flaxen hair drawn back in a long braid, she was much too pretty to pass unnoticed in a room full of men. And what drunken men looked at, they often wanted to touch.

  “Stay close behind me, and don’t be too quick to draw your dagger.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know how to handle drunken warriors without stabbing them.”

  Galen fought the grin as he touched the scabbed-over cut on his cheek. “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

  Adela’s cheeks flamed, and she turned her gaze away. “You weren’t drunk.”

  “And I don’t intend to be.” He rubbed his hands together. “I have a good feeling about this place. Let’s see what we can learn.”

  Adela almost pressed against his back as Galen wove his way between two groups of men talking in the entryway. The proprietor was topping off an old man’s beer when Galen moved into place beside them.

  The tavern keeper turned an oily smile on Galen. “What can I give you?”

  “The answer to a question. Where would someone sell a gladiator?”

  “I’d say Mediolanum. Take the road south over the Alpes.” The old man’s words were slurred.

  The proprietor rolled his eyes. “That’s not his question, Herman. He means where here in Brigantium.” His gaze swept Galen. “There’s no ludus here, but the prefect of the fleet might buy. He sponsors games sometimes.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “But he usually puts on a show with big men. Haven’t seen him use runts yet.” His eyes shifted to Adela and lit with appreciation. “Or pretty girls.”

  Galen offered a relaxed smile. “Not a problem. I’m not selling runts or girls.”

  Before Galen could say another word, Adela poked him in the back. He reached behind his back to pat her arm. That provoked three more hard jabs into his ribs. He glanced over his shoulder to find her pointing at a table tucked into an alcove at the rear of the shop.

  A serving girl set two bowls of stew down in front of the gambler who lost Adela and the man who tried to knife him.

  Galen turned back to the proprietor. “Thank you.”

  He took Adela’s hand and led her out of the shop.

  Once outside, Adela set her feet and tugged on Galen’s hand to pull him back inside. “Why are we leaving? That was Gundahar and Gerlach.”

  “I know. Time to get the soldiers to arrest them. Otto and the third kidnapper weren’t there. The garrison commander will get to the truth about where they’re holding Otto.”

  Her eyes narrowed. He was right. Three men had taken her, and none should escape paying for that.

  They mounted and rode to the garrison. Galen slid off his horse and approached the sentry. Words were exchanged in Latin before the sentry nodded and stepped aside for him to enter.

  When Galen reappeared, a warrior with a red crest like Galen’s friend in Argentorate and eight other warriors came with him.

  Galen glanced at her as he passed. “Stay here with the horses.”

  She twisted in the saddle to keep the band of men in view. What started as a tug at the corner of her mouth blossomed into an angry grin. Her hunger for vengeance was about to be satisfied.

  Chapter 12: Roman Justice

  The hum in the room silenced when the soldiers entered. Galen walked at their head beside the centurion. The kidnappers were lingering at the table over their beers. Galen pointed, then stepped back to let Roman power take over.

  The centurion strode to the table with his hand gripping his gladius. “I have a warrant from Centurion Silanus of the VIII Augusta for your arrest. The charge is kidnapping. You will come with me.”

  Gerlach’s eyes bulged as his face turned fish-belly white.

  Gundahar set his tankard down. “There must be some mistake. We haven’t been in Argentorate. We’re only travelling through Brigantium from Augusta Raurica on our way to Augusta Vindelicum. I got word my cousin broke his leg, and we’re going there to help his wife and four children with their farm.”

  The centurion’s gaze flipped from Gundahar to Gerlach and back. His standard centurion’s frown deepened. “You will come with me to the garrison, and we will sort out the truth of this.”

  Gundahar rose and placed a coin on the table to pay for the beer. “Of course.” Gerlach rose as well, but his color was still closer to a dead man than a live one.

  The centurion stepped back to let them pass. His men surrounded them front, sides, and back as they left the taberna. As he passed Galen, his eyebrow arched. “Kidnappers, you say.” His mouth turned down again. “We shall see.”

  Galen followed him through the door. His gut twisted. What would happen to Otto if he couldn’t convince the centurion and get him to force a confession of where his friend was?

  He began to pray.

  When they reached the garrison gateway, the centurion fixed his gaze on Adela. “You. Come with us.” His gaze shifted to the men ahead of him. “Rufus. Stable their horses.” The last legionary peeled off and waited to take their reins.

  Galen summoned her with a flick of his fingers. Adela slid off Otto’s bay and moved close to him. He smiled to reassure her, but the look she’d worn when they first approached the fortress in Argentorate had returned. He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. She took a deep breath, and her face relaxed.

  Galen forced a broader smile he didn’t feel. God, help us find Otto and bring justice out of this. His lips straightened. Don’t let evil win.

  The centurion turned left when they entered the inner courtyard and strode past the kidnappers. He stopped in a doorway and turned.

  “You and you.” He pointed at Galen and Adela. “Come inside.” His gaze flipped between Gerlach and Gundahar. “And you.” His finger pointed at Gerlach. As he turned, he glanced over his shoulder. “Hold the other one here until I send for him.”

  The room smelled like damp stone and was dimly lit through a small rectangular opening near the ceiling. One of the legionaries moved around the room to light four lamps. They cast a warm yellow light, but they did nothing to cut the chill permeating the room.

  Adela wrapped her arms around herself as her nervous eyes flipped between centurion and kidnapper.

  The centurion spread his feet and placed his fists on his hips. “You, Gerlach, are charged with kidnapping. This man…” His hand swept toward Galen. “He claims you got his friend drunk in Argentorate and kidnapped him to sell as a gladiator. He claims you also kidnapped this woman across the frontier, and his friend won her gambling with your travelling partner. He claims you tried to kill him to get her back, but he knocked you out and moved to a different campsite. When his friend didn’t show up the next morning, he looked for him and was told that you had left in the night with his friend draped across a horse. He and the woman have been trying to catch up and free his friend for the last six days.”

  The centurion crossed his arms. “What do you say against these charges?”

  Gerlach swallowed hard. “That’s not what happened. I had nothing to do with any kidnapping of anyone. I came back from an errand to find Gundahar had won a gladiator slave in Augusta Raurica. But we’re no
t slave traders, so we sold him before heading east.”

  The centurion turned his eyes on Galen and raised one eyebrow.

  Galen straightened. “The errand he was on was trying to kill me in the western vendor camp in Argentorate and kidnap Adela a second time. You can still see the bruise on his temple where I hit him with the pommel of my sword and knocked him out.”

  Gerlach’s head shook violently. “That’s not what happened. The bruise is from my horse kicking me.” He wrinkled his nose. “Look at him. Do you really think a runt like him could knock me out in a fight?”

  Galen’s eyes narrowed. “Adela can tell how you and Gundahar kidnapped her in Hermunduri country north of the frontier and brought her to Argentorate to sell. Your plans changed to kidnapping Otto after he won her and I took his winnings back to our camp. You attacked me with a dagger to get her back.”

  Gerlach shook his head again. “That’s not true. If someone attacked you, it wasn’t me. Maybe it was someone who looked like me, but it wasn’t me.” His eyes focused back on the centurion. “There’s no reason to take his word over mine.”

  The centurion rubbed his mouth as his eyes flipped between Gerlach and Galen.

  “Sit back there in the corner, and don’t make a sound while I ask your friend a few questions.”

  Color came back to Gerlach’s face, and a hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Of course. Not a sound.”

  The centurion flicked his fingers, and the legionary who’d been standing by the door left. He returned with Gundahar and a second soldier.

  Again, the centurion stood with feet spread and fists on his hips. “You, Gundahar, are charged with kidnapping,” His head tipped toward Galen, and his mouth turned down. “This man claims you got his friend drunk in Argentorate and kidnapped him to sell as a gladiator. He claims you also kidnapped this woman across the frontier, and you lost her gambling with his friend. When his friend didn’t show up the next morning, he looked for him and was told that you had left in the night with his friend draped across a horse. He and the woman have been trying to catch up and free his friend for the last six days.”

  The centurion lifted his chin as he crossed his arms. “What do you say against these charges?”

  Gundahar glared at Galen. “The short Roman is confused, and the girl is lying. I never kidnapped anyone. There’s no proof I’ve ever seen either of them before. No proof I was even in Argentorate when he claims.”

  Adela couldn’t understand a single word of the Latin, but she could read what the warrior’s body said. Galen hadn’t convinced him these were the men who’d taken Otto. The warrior was going to let them go. Galen would never find and free his friend, and the evil ones would never pay for killing Gunda and taking her.

  Then Gundahar rubbed his neck. When the neckline of his shirt pulled sideways, she saw the thin, braided string of red, blue, and green threads. Her mother had made that to hold the amber amulet Father had given her at their wedding. Adela had worn the smooth, yellow treasure since her mother died, but it vanished with the rest of her clothing after she was dragged from the horse.

  She stepped forward and tugged on Galen’s sleeve. He glanced over his shoulder with a question in his eyes.

  “He’s wearing my mother’s amulet.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “What does it look like?”

  “It’s amber, and it’s like three waterdrops joined at the top. It’s hanging on a blue, red, and green braided string.”

  Galen’s mouth, which had been straight, curved into a slight smile

  “The proof that he’s lying is hanging around his neck. He took an amulet from Adela. It’s amber, shaped like three waterdrops joined at the top, and hangs on a three-color braided string.”

  Gundahar’s eyes saucered. Then he made a break for the door, but a legionary blocked his way. Another grabbed his arms and jerked them behind him, When the first pressed his gladius against Gundahar’s side, he stopped struggling.

  The centurion reached inside his shirt and pulled out the amulet. He lifted the string over Gundahar’s head and closed his fist around the amber pendant.

  Gerlach shot to his feet. “I had no idea he kidnapped anyone! I had nothing to do with any of that. I didn’t even help him sell the big German in Augusta Raurica. The buyer had two more gladiators in his cart. He said he was heading to Octodurus for the games next week.”

  The centurion’s mouth twitched as he looked down his nose at Gerlach. “Which ludus was he supplying?”

  “I don’t know! But I never knew Bjorn was kidnapped. I thought Gundahar won him, like he said. If I wasn’t innocent, would I have told you about the buyer?” The pitch of Gerlach’s voice spiraled upward. “Find Bjorn, and he can tell you I’m innocent. You have to believe me!”

  The centurion handed the amulet to Adela before turning frowning eyes back on Gerlach. “I’m convinced you both kidnapped the German called Otto in Argentorate and this woman across the frontier. I’m convinced you tried to kill this man while trying to steal the woman from his friend, who is her legal owner after he won her from you. Kidnapping and attempted murder during a robbery both carry a death sentence in the province of Raetia, and it will be carried out tomorrow morning.”

  Gerlach would have collapsed if two legionaries hadn’t seized his arms. Vile curses rolled from Gundahar’s tongue as his gaze raked Galen. Then his eyes spit fire as he turned on Adela.

  “You think you won, chieftain’s daughter, but you lost everything the day I took you. You might think you can go home, but your father won’t want you. You’re worthless now. I took you in more ways than you know, and you have less value to a chieftain now as a daughter than you do as a slave.”

  He spat at her feet as the soldiers dragged him away.

  A war cry burst from Adela’s throat as she drew her dagger and lunged toward Gundahar. Before she could drive the blade into his back, Galen’s arms pinned her like iron bands. She arched her back and writhed against him until the warriors dragged Gundahar and Gerlach through an iron door and the door closed behind them.

  Galen released her and took the dagger from her hand.

  She spun to glare at him. “Why did you stop me? Among my people, it’s my right to kill that man for what he did to me.”

  He slipped her dagger back into its sheath and placed his hands on her upper arms. “Maybe so, but I won’t let you. Roman justice will take care of him.”

  She tossed her head. “Then I want to watch him die.”

  A sad smile curved his mouth as he shook his head. “I’m not going to let you do that, either. They’re not Roman citizens, so it will be a cross, not a sword, for both of them. That’s not a quick, clean kill. It’s a slow death by torture. It can take days. I won’t let you watch that. What you saw would haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  “But it’s my right…” Her voice faltered. The daughter of a Hermunduri chieftain was supposed to be a warrior’s woman, eager to kill her enemies, unmoved by emotion, never showing weakness. But the concern in the depths of those honest brown eyes punched huge holes in her hard shell.

  That breached the dam that held back her tears, and the flood broke loose.

  Galen drew her into his arms. She slipped her arms around his chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder. She managed to stop the sound of the sobs ripping through her, but she couldn’t stop the jerks and shaking.

  His arms tightened around her, and he rocked them until her tears subsided. Then he stepped back and placed his palms on her cheeks. He swept away the teardrops with his thumbs.

  “Forget what he said. It’s not true. Nothing he could have done would make you any less a treasured daughter than you were before he took you. A father’s love won’t change because of what’s happened. As soon as we rescue Otto, I’ll take you home to him. You’ll see how glad he’ll be to get you back.”

  “You don’t know the
Hermunduri. We’re not like you Romans.” Another tear dribbled down her cheek.

  “I’m a Roman citizen, but I’m more German than Roman. The Hermunduri can’t be that different from the Vangiones I live with. Otto comes from a chieftain family. No man could do anything that would make his father cast off his daughters. A man would have to be crazy not to be proud to have a daughter like you, and any son of his friends would be a fool not to think himself fortunate to have you as his wife.”

  With his fingertips, he swept the final trace of tears away. He took the amulet from her hand and hung it around her neck. “Now, it’s time for us to head back to Augusta Raurica and take the other road south. Otto is counting on me...on us. We won’t let him down.”

  Chapter 13: Backtracking

  Galen had been looking forward to a long soak at the baths that afternoon, followed by a good dinner with Otto at his side, but that was not to be. At least not yet.

  When the soldier brought their horses from the garrison stable, Galen moved behind Adela. With his hands on her waist, he gave her the lift that made it easy to swing her leg over the tall bay’s rump. Then he mounted Astrelo.

  Adela’s eyes were puffy from the attack of tears, but her back was straight and her head held high. It was a relief to see the warrior woman back.

  Her cool gaze fixed on him. “Now what?”

  He rubbed his chin. He needed to get her out of Brigantium before morning. The execution field would be at the side of a major road. The main one would most likely be on the road south to Mediolanum, but they’d passed a field just west of town with tall, heavy posts that could be used for executions. Two condemned men, one for each road…double the impact for discouraging a repeat of their crime by another.

  “The horses had a rest and some food in the stable here, so we can ride a few miles west to get a good start on our return to Augusta Raurica. We’re seven days behind Otto now. Gerlach said the games were next week, so we should get there in time as long as we keep moving. We’ll buy a few days’ worth of food, then head out.”