Barbarian's Soul: A Historical Romance

by Joan Kayse

  Bran clenched his jaw against the pain that gripped his chest.

  And if Adria sought to leave him? Then the beginning point would not matter, for he would take Rome apart, stone by stone, until he found her.

  “You waste time,” he muttered out loud, against the urgency plucking at his nerves.

  There was another way, if the gods took mercy on him. He’d never sought connection with the familial gift, had in fact wished it gone from his life. Inhaling deeply, Bran closed his eyes, filled his mind with thoughts of Adria. Imaged the soft velvet of her skin, the thick, black curls moist from the efforts of their lovemaking. Her mouth on his, her eyes sparking purple fire in temper. In passion.

  For long, agonizing moments, nothing happened. Then a gray maelstrom began to swirl in his mind. Bran stayed focused, forced his breathing to remain calm. Colors bled into the mass, first orange, then blues and greens, forms and images shimmering into view before being obliterated with the color of blood.

  Bran snapped his eyes open, the last image bathed in the color of Adria’s violet eyes seared into his mind. Fear twisted his gut, threatened to turn to full-blown terror. Adria—and Linus—were in danger and if he did not find them, Adria would die.

  ***

  Adria bit into a pear she’d taken from the monkey. Adria’s mouth lifted in a wry smile. She hadn’t actually taken this fruit—instead, she’d picked it up from the ground after the crazed beast started attacking his owner with his own merchandise.

  Chewing slowly, her gaze never left the shadowed entry across the street from her hiding spot. It appeared no more than a large crack in the side of an abandoned building. People strolling past were completely unaware that this was the doorway to the hideout of the most notorious gang in Rome.

  She hadn’t been completely certain of the gang’s whereabouts. During her years on the street she’d encountered a Vipera now and again but had always steered clear of actually engaging one. There had been rumors, speculation and hints to their base of operation but no one would say for certain. The Vipera kept themselves shrouded in mystery and the price of knowledge often resulted in death.

  This building, an old tenement long abandoned by its owner, was the most often mentioned in the gossip. That was why she’d spent the past few hours observing the crumbling building and it seemed her instincts were right. Every now and again, a boy would loiter by the opening and when he deemed it safe, slip inside. Each of them carried a sack over their shoulders. Adria snorted. Filled with much more than foodstuffs, she’d wager.

  She leaned forward in anticipation as three more boys arrived at the same time. One had wheaten hair and even from this distance it was not difficult to discern Linus’ mulish expression.

  They stood apart from each other, biding their time. Adria rose to her feet and waited, hoped that her fortune would hold. It did when first one, then the other of the boys slipped inside leaving Linus alone.

  Adria stole from her hiding place, dodged the pedestrians in the street, arriving at the door just as Linus was turning to enter. “Linus!”

  “Hades!” he exclaimed. His hazel eyes went wide then wild as he saw Adria standing behind him.

  “Bran is not with me,” she replied to his silent question. It took a bit of tension from his body but his expression was still one of shock. “But he would not like what it is you are doing.”

  Linus glared at her, scanned the crowd nervously. “He doesn’t give two figs for what I do! I’m a burden, nothing more to the bastard. Now get out of here, while you can!”

  Adria frowned. “Not without you.” She leaned forward and spoke earnestly. “You do not believe it, but Bran does care about your welfare. Why else would he have brought you from Alexandria? Cared for you? Fed you?”

  Linus’ glare bore into her. “He did not save my mother!”

  There it was. The hurt and pain and confusion that his young heart did not know how to process. When she spoke, Adria chose her words with care. “I know he tried to save her and he has suffered for the perception of fault that was not his. I did not know your mother but I feel certain she went into that match knowing there was a chance she would not survive.” She gentled her voice. “And I know she loved you, for she made the best arrangement for you, your brother and sister that she could. No other, save Bran, could have forced your master’s hand in seeing you free.”

  Linus’ jaw clenched, though his bottom lip trembled, but Adria could see that he was considering her words. Good. Now to get him away from the Vipera. “Come back with me now. Leave these miscreants before you fall into an abyss you cannot climb out of.”

  Linus’ chin jutted out. “They are my brothers.”

  Adria blew out a frustrated breath. “They are criminals. They will rule your life. Come away now before it is too late.”

  Linus gave her an arrogant look as he pulled back the neck of his tunic. Adria’s stomach sank at the raw, puckered burn shaped like the head of an asp.

  She tried a different tact, forced the desperation from her voice. “Cyma and Julian need you.”

  At their names, Adria saw another glimmer of doubt in his eyes. He loved his siblings. “What will they do without their brother?”

  Linus looked sad for a moment, older than his years. “They will be fine. They will have Bran and—” For the first time he looked at Adria without malice. “—they have you.” A scraping noise sounded from the building. “Now go, before you are seen.”

  “Linus, you whoreson! What’s taking ya so long?” called a voice from within the building.

  Linus seemed to war with himself but only for a moment, before he shoved Adria away and slipped inside.

  Adria stumbled to the ground, dodged an irate pedestrian’s kick. She scrambled to her feet and brushed at the dirt on her arms, glaring at the entrance. Gods, how could one boy be so stubborn? She’d seen the confusion in his eyes, saw the warring of emotions, yet he would not accept her help.

  She could return and get Bran. He’d make short work of the whole situation. But even as she thought it, Adria rejected it. No, Linus had to come to terms with his life, else his relationship with Bran would be destroyed.

  She spied something lying on the ground next to the narrow opening. It was the sack Linus had been carrying. She picked it up and glanced around. He was more like Bran than he would ever admit. Thinking he could dictate the situation. Thinking she would give up. But she’d seen the cracks in his stubbornness. She was not leaving without Linus.

  Assured that she was unnoticed, she slipped through the crack.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Adria shimmied her way through the narrow fissure. It was nearly pitch black but seemed to run the length of the outer wall. By the pattern of chips along the sides she could tell it had been enlarged on purpose but not so large that just anyone could follow them in. Someone like the authorities. Someone like Bran.

  Thoughts of the man who held her heart made it trip in her chest. She loved the intimidating, infuriating man. How he had come to mean so much to her in such a short span of time did not matter. She knew only that she would see him free from more pain, and saving Beatrix’s son would do just that. She would not allow it to happen. He would forgive her—she pressed her lips together—please gods, let him forgive her for not involving him.

  And if he didn’t?

  If he didn’t, then she would melt back into the masses of Rome, alone, heartbroken and more miserable than could be imagined.

  A loud noise scraped from the entrance behind. Adria cursed beneath her breath for indulging in such selfish thoughts, thoughts that lured her from attending her surroundings. Such inattention would see one dead.

  Adria measured her steps, proceeded with more caution. The tunnel could end at another tunnel, a sewer, or the middle of the Vipera’s nest. That would be problematic. But she was determined to talk sense into Linus.

  A dim light shadowed the end of the pathway. Her nose twitched at the smell of rancid oil burning in lam
ps. Deep breath. Deep breath. She just had time to pinch the end of her nose before the sneeze hit. It was a dainty sound, thank the gods, but Adria froze, waiting for an alarm to be raised. People of the streets were known to have clear hearing.

  The only noise she heard was a cacophony of voices as she approached the opening. None of it sounded like a call to arms, instead there was loud guffawing, arguing and the discordant notes of a flute. She pressed against the wall and peeked into a large, open room. The sharp scent of wheat and items left rancid indicated a storage area from when the building had been occupied.

  There were clusters of boys scattered about the place. Some played dice in a corner, another group lounged on a pile of filthy pillows, yet others milled around before an older youth who sat on a sedan chair displaying their caches. A shiver shot through Adria. It was almost an exact replica of Tiege and his men. The cluster of boys at the leader’s feet broke apart and she found Linus, on his knees. Fear shot through her.

  “Yet again, you come empty handed,” clucked the leader. “You received the full initiation and already you disappoint.”

  Linus did not cower. “Dishonor was not my intent, Minos. The sack with my offering was...”

  In her hand. Adria clutched the cloth sack.

  “...lost in the jostling of the crowd.”

  Minos made a tsking sound then shot to his feet. He signaled one of the boys to hand him a whip. “You know the penalty for failure.”

  Linus raised his head and jutted his chin out. So much pride. A reflection of Bran though they shared no blood. But what else had the boy ever learned? He’d grown up amidst the carnage of the arena. A gladiator displayed strength in the face of cruelty. A gladiator remained proud even if they died. Adria pressed her mouth into a thin line. But this wasn’t the arena between two equal opponents, it was brutality—cruel and one-sided. Linus, and his craving to belong, was blind to that. She was not.

  Two boys sauntered forward and grabbed Linus by his arms. Minos walked behind him and raised the lash.

  “Is this the offering you so desperately need?”

  The entire assembly reacted, knives and clubs drawn. Adria swallowed hard. She would have to find a way to placate the little bastards, keep Linus’ pride intact and leave with their lives. So much more complicated than scrounging for oranges.

  Minos narrowed his gaze and she could not repress the shiver that went through her at the naked lust in them. He may be a boy in years but he thought himself a man.

  “What have we here?” Minos drawled. He signaled and the boys dropped their hold on Linus.

  Adria stepped forward, tossed the bag at Minos. Instinct had her scanning the room for an escape route. There was none. “I found it on the street.” She jerked her chin toward Linus, who looked at her, incredulous.

  Minos stalked toward her, circled like a predator. Adria didn’t dare react, didn’t dare show the fear that even now was gnawing at her stomach, shooting up her spine.

  “I’ve seen you before,” he said.

  She could almost feel the wet slither of his tongue. Adria shrugged, unconcerned. “You may have. From time to time.”

  Minos finished his lazy perusal, ended in front of her. It was all Adria could do not to gag at his stench. She raised her head and met his dark gaze. There was evil in those black depths. For a long moment he stared at her, as intense as a cobra before it strikes.

  “What reward can Minos offer?” he drawled.

  Adria shook her head and forced herself not to step back in revulsion when he stepped closer. “It was not the boy’s fault the sack was lost,” she lied. “It was knocked from his grasp. And rather than betray your lair, he had to abandon it. You would do well not to punish him.”

  Minos glanced over his shoulder at Linus. “You know the boy?”

  Gods, there was a trap being set, she could feel it. She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have seen him here and there.”

  “Really?” Minos walked over and offered a hand to Linus, helped him to stand. “I had my doubts about his loyalty.” He slapped Linus on the back, nearly knocking him over. “But now I see he is true to the Vipera.”

  Adria slid her gaze to Linus who struggled to hide his confusion.

  Minos turned back to face her, a cold smile curved his lips. “He’s brought us the best prize of all.” He leaned close to her face. “The thief that Tiege seeks.”

  Adria’s stomach sank. She remained rooted in place but felt her escape routes close as three of the larger boys moved into position behind her. There, behind a pile of refuse. A small window. She tossed her head at Minos. “I do not know what you are talking about. I do not know this Tiege.” Gods, she had to get Linus out of here. She dared not make eye contact with the boy but willed him to be still, to not reveal their relation. What relation? An inner voice mocked? Whore and disobedient brat?

  Minos laughed and nodded to his underlings. Adria dropped low, intent on slipping beneath the bulk of the trio with her smaller size. Her strategy almost worked but one of the boys caught her by her braid as she lunged between their legs and jerked her hard to the floor. She grappled at her belt, pulled her blade free and slashed out. A line of crimson on a beefy calf and a howl of pain from one of the overgrown bastards brought her brief pleasure.

  The streets of Rome always held the threat of death, in small or great measure. Adria understood this, had accepted it long ago but this time she must get out, not just for herself, but for the survival of people she cared about. People she loved. The family she loved.

  Adria fought, used knife and teeth and kicks but the gang members outmatched her efforts. A large hand clamped on her wrist, squeezed until a sharp pain lanced up her arm to her shoulder forcing her to drop her weapon. Minos picked it up.

  Adria’s arms were twisted behind her back and she was forced to her knees before the boy-leader. Minos pulled Linus forward to stand at his side. “Well done, Vipera! You led the prize here, saved us time away from our normal pursuits. Bind her. When night falls we will collect our reward.”

  ***

  “I...I am sorry.”

  Adria dragged her eyes open at the hoarse whisper. Somehow she’d managed to fall asleep though she could not say how, bound as she was to a stout wooden post. Out of habit she tested the thick cords that secured her wrists and her ankles, all to no avail. It was difficult to speak with the thick leather collar around her neck. Minos had thought it a humorous addition to her misery. Attached to the pole at her back it held her neck and head in a stiff, unrelenting position but she recognized Linus and the layers of regret and sorrow in his voice. “Sorry?” she rasped, her throat parched from hours without water. “For what are you sorry?”

  He snorted. Gods, please let the boy have the sense to remain hidden. Adria shifted her eyes about the room relieved to note that none seemed to be paying any heed to their prisoner.

  “It is my fault that you are here.” He sounded miserable but it gladdened her heart. Where there was guilt, there was hope that he was not yet lost.

  Gods, she wished she could look him in the eye. He was taking a grave risk speaking to her from the shadows as it was.

  “It is my own fault that I am here,” she murmured. “I will find a way out of this.”

  She hoped.

  Adria squeezed her eyes closed against another shiver of dread. She had to believe she’d find a way out, though the prospects were dimming with each passing hour. She’d been caught and trussed like a butcher’s goose. The only thing remaining was for Minos and his gang to present her to Tiege on a platter. She would not allow herself to think about what happened after that, instead focused on thoughts of Bran.

  Sorrow swelled in her chest. She had known that her time with the stubborn, prideful, wonderful barbarian was limited. Their differences were too vast and she loved him too much to ask him to make a life with her, with a Roman. But the parting would have been easier knowing his family—and despite any protests to the contrary, he had built one with Cy
ma, Julian and Linus—was whole.

  She took a deep breath. Her fate might well be bleak but perhaps she could still give him that.

  “Linus,” she whispered. “It is not too late for you. Leave. Go home to Bran. Go with him to his homeland.”

  “He doesn’t want me.”

  Adria grit her teeth. Linus may not be Bran’s son by flesh but he was by stubbornness. “Enough of that! Cease being lost in your own misery.” She scanned the room again. The boys were still ignoring them. “Listen to me. Bran understands what you have lost. He has lost much himself.”

  A painful cramp gripped Adria’s left shoulder but she struggled to stay still. She did not wish to draw attention until she had finished with the boy. “Linus. Your mother would not want this for you. She would want you to listen to Bran else why would she have entrusted her three most precious gifts to him? And yes, she looked to Bran to provide for you, but she looked to you to be there for your brother and sister.”

  Adria let out a breath as the spasm eased. Linus was silent. She cast an anxious look at the hole in the roof. Minos had chosen well, commenting that she could watch the passing of the day in anticipation of her departure to Tiege’s lair. There was only a trace of daylight left. “Linus?” Long moments passed.

  “You are a warrior,” the boy said at last. “Just as my mother was. It is right that you wear her tunic.”

  The tunic she had found had been Beatrix’s? She had no time to wrap her mind around it before she felt the cold bite of a blade against the ropes at her wrists.

  “Well, the day draws to an end.” Minos strolled up to stand before Adria. “And I suspect by this time tomorrow, so will your life.”

  Any hope she’d been foolish enough to hold dissolved as the knife disappeared. But she was reassured that Linus was no fool and had hidden himself. Unfortunately, without making the first cut to her bonds.