by Carol Ashby
But Galen was much more attractive. The cut she gave him had scarred, but no woman would think it made him less handsome. The laughing eyes and the permanent smile that flipped so quickly to a grin would delight any woman, Roman or otherwise.
The stable slaves took the horses, and Galen led Otto toward her. She rose and braced herself for meeting the man who might try to claim her as his slave.
Otto stopped right in front of her, and he was tall enough she had to tip her head back to look into his eyes. Those eyes seemed friendly, not lecherous, but a man’s looks could be deceiving.
“It’s good to see you again, Adela. Galen told me how good it was to have you as company coming here. I’m glad we were able to free you before I got taken so he wasn’t lonely.”
Those words released the tension that had her tighter than a bowstring. “We caught Gundahar and Gerlach, and we found you. A successful hunt is always good.”
Otto grinned. “I’m glad I won a horsewoman. You two rode a long way to find me.”
“I enjoyed riding your stallion, even if Galen did have to lift me up when there was nothing to stand on to make me a little taller.”
Galen’s mouth was curved in his broadest smile when she shifted her gaze down from the giant. “I’ll get you a horse that’s more your size for the ride back.”
Otto rested his elbow on Galen’s shoulder. “You might not have to. We’ll be taking some of Tiberius’s horses back to Germania. Maybe one will be broken to saddle enough that I can ride it. Then you can keep riding mine. You helped Galen catch the men who sold me. Letting you ride my stallion is the least I can do to thank you.”
“I’d like that. Gratias tibi.”
Otto’s eyebrows shot up.
That triggered her laugh. “The proper reply is ‘Voluptas meus est.’ Galen has been teaching me Latin in case I needed it to get back to Germania alone.”
Otto’s mouth twitched. “I learned a few new Latin words in the ludus, but you don’t need to know them. With three men taking you back, you won’t even need what you’ve learned.”
She glanced at Galen, and he was watching her, too. “Even if I don’t need it, I’d like to keep learning. Galen is such a good teacher. Who knows how much he can teach me in four more weeks?”
But maybe that wouldn’t be the end of what he’d teach her. If they married, she could also learn Greek, like his sisters. Te amo. How would she say that in Greek?
Te amo, Galen Crassus. She’d been practicing different ways to say it, and she knew the exact one to use when he said it first.
Otto had thoroughly enjoyed the hot soak in Tiberius’s private bath, and it felt good to wear a tunic of softest wool instead of the rough slave tunics at the ludus. Dinner had been delicious, and even the ever-hungry Galen left food on his plate.
The scribe who'd been at the ludus followed the final tray of pastries into the room. He waited for Tiberius to nod before speaking.
“Master, the manumission is scheduled midmorning day after tomorrow.”
Tiberius smiled and waved him away. After a quick bow, the man withdrew from the dining room.
“That’s good timing, Otto. Tomorrow I’ll take you all to the chariot races at the Circus Maximus. Some of my horses are always running there, and it will be good for you to see them race at the greatest racetrack in the Empire. You’ll be able to tell our customers that horses from the same bloodlines are winning at the Circus in Rome, and you’ve seen it yourself. That should be persuasive for anyone who’s ever visited Rome.
“The races will take most of the day. After we complete your manumission the next morning, we can visit my stables here and select the stallion and mares we’ll be taking to found the herd in Germania.”
One corner of Tiberius’s mouth turned up. “Too many horse traders twist the facts to make a sale, but I never have to lie about my animals.” His gaze shifted to Galen. “What does the Christian god think of one of his followers lying to make a living?”
Galen opened his mouth to respond, but Otto beat him to it. “I’ve never heard Galen say anything that wasn’t true. We have good horses to sell, and he only has to let someone ride to know the horse is worth what he’s asking. The Romans in Argentorate almost fight over who gets to buy from him. The asking price is always what it should be, but sometimes they bid it up higher. That’s not Galen’s fault. Who are we to tell someone a horse they just bid for isn’t worth what the other man was almost willing to pay?”
Tiberius’s lips curved into a wry smile. “And do you do as well?”
Otto bristled. “No. I’m honest, too, but the Romans don’t trade with a German like they do with a Roman.”
Tiberius’s eyebrow rose. “That never influences me. You can try to sell me something later, and I’ll tell you what the real problem is so you can change before you start trying to sell my horses.”
Otto glanced at Galen, whose gaze had shifted to the pastry tray. Everything inside him wanted to argue with Tiberius, but the echo of Galen’s words about trying to pick a fight when making a deal rang in his head. “That might help.”
Galen’s gaze turned back on him, but his partner’s eyes weren’t laughing at him. They looked happy that he was finally ready to work on his real problem.
After Tiberius excused himself at the end of dinner, Galen escorted Adela and Otto to their rooms. Otto’s room was on one side of Adela’s, Galen’s on the other.
Ornate metal brackets cradled oil lamps like leaves around a flower bud. The pools of light below each overlapped, making a chain of circles leading to their rooms. The golden glow that filled the hallway mirrored the glow in Galen’s heart.
He could remember only one day when he’d been happier: the day Dec married Val, giving her the finest husband and him the best brother and friend a man could want.
Adela walked between Otto and him. The scent of roses that lingered in her hair teased his nostrils. The music of her voice tickled his ears. A profile that could inspired any sculptor fired his imagination. It was a pleasure just being close to her.
His quest to rescue Otto was over. But as much as he’d wanted his friend by his side, he wanted her more. God, open her heart to what I can tell her. Make her want to be yours, and then make her want to be mine.
They reached her door, and Galen opened it.
Otto smiled down on her as he rested his hand against her doorpost. “After so many meals with ugly gladiators, eating with a pretty woman this evening was the best part of dinner. It’s good to hear Germanic spoken again. I’d grown tired of using only Latin.”
Adela tilted her head as a smile lit her eyes. “I like using Latin. I’ve enjoyed every moment of Galen teaching me.”
Galen basked in the warmth of the smile she directed at him as she spoke those words. “Voluptas meus est.”
She grinned. “I like that saying best. Nothing could describe our trip better.”
“Adela.” Otto pulled her gaze back to him. “I’ve watched some chariot races before, but never with the finest horses on the most famous race track in the world. Tiberius knows how to treat guests well.”
Adela’s gaze flipped between Otto and Galen. “I’m looking forward to it.” Her gaze settled on Galen. “Rest well.”
She closed the door, and Galen grinned at Otto. “You’re definitely going to rest well. Tiberius’s beds are softer than any pillow I’ve ever laid my head on.”
Otto dropped his hand from her door and straightened. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you did to set me free. You shouldn’t have risked Tiberius killing you just to get the money, but I’m glad you did. I’m going to be a citizen and you’re still alive, even though he knows about your faith. How did he find out?”
“He caught me praying. He was going to kill me; then he decided our lives would be his gifts to Dec. I’m glad he decided to go to Germania. God truly protected me, and Dec is going to be thrilled when his father comes back with us.”
“Maybe your god protected us both. One thing is certain.” Otto rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes narrowed. “I’ve learned not to go blindly ahead and do stupid things when you point out the danger. It’s not real men who drink until they can’t defend themselves. It’s stupid ones.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It might not turn out so well next time. I tried to get you back for myself as much as for you. I promised Val we wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would have skinned me alive for breaking my word to her. And then I would have had to face Baldric for not bringing his young stallion home.”
Galen would never say it to his face, but Otto was as good a friend as any man could have. It would break his heart to lose him. “Some good came of the whole affair, anyway. At least you managed to rescue Adela.”
Otto shook his head. “No, that wasn’t me. It was you. I would have gambled her away that night. What she needed wasn’t a big fool like me but a wise man like you who took her away before I lost her again.”
Galen shrugged. “God took care of us all.” He slapped Otto’s arm. “Sleep well, big man.”
Otto grinned. “You, too.” He walked into his room and closed the door.
Galen rested his hand on Adela’s door and closed his eyes. God, give her a good night’s sleep, but don’t let her be so comfortable that she doesn’t think she needs you. Give me the chance to tell her all she needs to hear.
He drew a breath and blew it out. Four weeks left. Surely that was long enough for her to learn the truth and choose to believe.
Chapter 38: Invisible Chains
Day 34
Adela awoke to the sun streaming through the window and waves crashing in her stomach. She’d been careful what she ate at dinner. No rich Roman food was to blame.
She swung her legs out of bed and pressed her hands against her belly. What were all the things she'd heard would help?
Her gaze settled on the food sack tied to her saddle. Bread and cheese and some dried apples were in there. Bread and cheese had helped yesterday.
She took a deep breath and held it as she walked the few steps and knelt. She pulled out a roll before hurrying to the window. If the nausea won, at least she could empty her stomach into the garden.
Slow deep breaths and many small bites…gradually her stomach settled. Tomorrow she would put the food sack by the bed, or maybe she'd ask for some bread and cheese before she went to her bedchamber.
The room blurred, but she won the battle against the tears.
She had no doubt she was with child, but sometimes a pregnancy ended quickly. That happened to her mother several times. Maybe she’d be like Mother, and all the worry would be for nothing. If there was no baby, no one ever needed to know what Gundahar had done.
When Adela stepped into the stable yard, Tiberius’s gray stallion, Astrelo, and Otto’s horse were saddled and waiting. Her brow furrowed. Where was her mount?
At the sound of her footsteps, Tiberius turned from his stable master. “As soon as the young men join us, we’ll go into Rome for the races.”
“I only see three horses. Who isn’t going?”
The twitch of his mouth betrayed that he was laughing at her. His hand swept toward a team of mules hitched to a small cart. A seat wide enough for three sat directly above the single axle, and a man sat on one side, fingering the reins.
Adela glanced down at her ankle length tunic and the ten feet of palla the lady’s maid had wrapped around her. “I guess it would be easier to drive in this than ride. I do know how to handle a team.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Tiberius tightened his lips, but she still saw the start of his grin. “No Roman lady would ever sit astride a horse or drive herself, and neither will you while you’re my guest. Galen may let you dress and ride like a man, but I won’t.”
Her eyebrows dipped as she straightened to her full height. “I do think this tunic is pretty, and I thank you for letting me wear it. But I’ll dress however I want when we ride back to Germania.”
His eyes rolled, but the smile remained. “That, my dear Adela, will be between you and Galen. But while we are still in Rome, you’ll dress and act like a proper Roman maiden.” His smile broadened. “Except for speaking your mind when it’s just the four of us. That I find quite entertaining.”
“I’m not a Roman maiden, and I like to drive. I don’t need anyone to help me.”
She jumped when Galen’s hand rested on her crossed arms.
“Just relax and enjoy the ride. Then you can spend all your time looking. There are many things to see. Let me help you in.”
He called the driver by flexing his fingers. When the cart stopped beside them, he lifted her into it. Before he stepped away, he took her hand and squeezed.
Tiberius mounted and led the party toward the gate. Galen and Otto fell in behind him, riding side-by-side. The driver flicked the reins, and the cart jerked her back as it started forward.
Galen turned in the saddle, and his eyes met hers. His perpetual smile broadened before he faced forward again.
He was right that there was much to be seen, but a ride in a cart had no appeal…unless Galen held the reins.
When they reached the stable yard of Tiberius’s friend near the city, Adela was more than ready to get out of the cart. The jostling from the wheels rolling across paving stones was much harder to bear than a comfortable saddle.
Galen was by the cart before the stable boy could bring over the mounting stool. She stood and let him place his hands on her waist to swing her out and down to the ground.
“We walk from here, but Tiberius said it’s not far.”
Tiberius walked up behind Galen as he was adjusting his toga, which had shifted during the lift. “We’ll walk, Galen, but I have a sedan chair for Adela.”
Adela craned her neck to look past him. Four men carried a chair mounted on poles.
“I have two good legs, and I can walk as fast as any man. I don’t need the chair.”
Tiberius rubbed his lips, but she saw the start of the smile he was trying to wipe away. “As you wish. The crowds will grow thick as we get near the circus, so stay close to me.” He looked past her to Galen and Otto. “But you have two bodyguards, so I don’t have to worry about your safety.”
Otto’s gaze swept Adela from head to foot. “To guard you is a pleasure, Adela. You remind me of the wild daffodils in Germania dancing beneath a blue spring sky.”
Adela fingered her yellow tunic and blue shawl as heat crept to her ears.
Otto’s hand rested on Galen’s shoulder. “I’m glad we’re here today and not tomorrow, or I’d be in a toga like Galen.” He grinned down at his friend. “The gatekeepers might let me into the races without it, but you look so Roman, they’d tell you to leave without one.”
Galen made his final adjustments of the yards of fabric. "I’ll be glad when we head home and I can wear a shirt and trousers again.”
Tiberius shook his head as his lips tightened. Then they curved up at the corners. “Clothes don’t make the man, but they identify the citizen. Of that, you should be proud. Stop complaining.” His reprimand lost its effect as the full smile leaked out.
The walk had not been long, and the views were spectacular. Adela tipped her head back to stare at the three stories of arches and columns that towered over her as they approached the curved end of the Circus Maximus. Four giant bronze horses with flaring nostrils and flowing manes pulled a chariot over an arched entrance wide enough for two chariots to race abreast.
“It’s huge!”
Tiberius’s hand swept the length of it. “Almost two thousand feet long, more than six hundred feet wide. Built of marble, a fitting display of the magnificence of the greatest empire the world has ever known. It will seat more than a quarter million people.”
“How many is that?”
Galen spoke beside her. “The whole town of Argentorate could fit in it more than ten times over.”
Adela drew a deep breath. “I would hate to have so many watching me race.”
“But, as you will see, the men who race here love it.” Tiberius turned and walked on.
They walked the length of the building, passing many doorways through which thousands of spectators were entering. When they reached the far end, Tiberius knocked on a door and was admitted to the area behind the starting gates.
As they walked past a row of stalls, Tiberius paused. “This stallion is from my estate near Ticinum. We’ll be spending a night there.”
A man dressed in a short green tunic, laced around his body with leather thongs, came over. “Lentulus, it’s good to see you here. The new stallion performed beautifully in his first race last week. I won easily.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m about to start another stable in a province I once governed. The founding stallion will share his bloodline.”
“The provincials will soon be grateful to have Lentulus horses setting the pace there.”
Tiberius offered a gracious smile. “The races start soon, and I’m taking my visitors to the sponsor’s box.”
The charioteer scanned their group, but his gaze settled on Adela. “Cheer for me, and I’ll drive a race like you’ve never seen before. Nothing inspires me more than the support of a rare beauty.”
Something in the smile he flashed made Adela move closer to Galen.
Tiberius spread his arms as if to shoo them along like chickens. “Time to take our seats. We’ll be joining the sponsor of today’s races in the state box above the starting gates.”
A narrow set of stone steps led to a canopied balcony with several small sections divided by stone walls. Tiberius led them to the largest one in the middle and entered.