For a Roman's Heart

by Denise A. Agnew

  Terentius’s group broke to the right as they ran down twenty men that took a stand. As a unified whole, Terentius and his group charged into the much smaller gathering. As he surged into the crowd, confidence flooded him in battle lust. His heart pounded, body poised for action, breath accelerating as muscles bunched and coiled. The fray was on as soldiers attacked the hapless rioters and looters. Terentius growled, his call a warrior’s demand for subservience. He would be obeyed. He’d win, or those opposed would die. Weapons clashed, shields held back ineffectual blows from men who didn’t stand a chance against trained soldiers. Swords clanged, voices shouted. Somewhere a woman wailed in abject misery. Straining, Terentius pushed back two men with one wide sweep of his sword. Another man rushed to attack from the right side. Terentius defended with his shield and sword. One thrust cleaved the man’s throat. Another movement drove back a second attacker, and the man fled. Though not outnumbered, most of the opponents started to scatter as they realized the cohort had full advantage.

  Blood splattered across Terentius’s shield as he slashed downward at a huge man determined to break through the line. Terentius’s horse flinched and bucked as a blade gashed across its front. Terentius kept his seat as the horse shied.

  Time seemed to slow. Terentius took note of the man who’d attacked, his shaggy dark hair, his beard, his wicked long knife. Adrenia’s warning echoed through Terentius.

  Terentius leapt from his horse, shield and weapon in hand, and came at his attacker. As the man’s knife arched upward and tried to slice past Terentius’s shield, Terentius blocked. Metal collided with an ear-splitting toll. With a roar echoing from his throat, Terentius attacked. His sword sank through the man’s unprotected chest, slicing between flesh, ribs and sinew. The man dropped dead.

  Terentius backed away, his concentration full on taking down anyone who opposed him. Already the rogues retreated, and it took little time for the soldiers to subdue the ragtag troop of adversaries. Terentius and the auxiliary centurion withdrew most of the men as order was restored. Several others were assigned to patrols to police the area for the rest of the day. Terentius checked his horse and discovered the wound didn’t prove as severe as he’d feared. Victor wiped blood off his face and arms.

  Terentius gazed at Victor with a sardonic smile. “Tell me that isn’t your blood? Do you need medical attention?”

  Victor’s pleased grin widened. “None of it is mine. You should see the other man.”

  “I did see the other man. Good job.” Terentius mounted his horse. “Come on. We need to check out the area and see if there’s any sign of Sulla.”

  Terentius let Oriton know what he planned, and Victor and Terentius set off for the alleyways.

  “You’re sure that it was him?” Victor asked, urging his horse to wind through the bodies of troublemakers lying in the road.

  Terentius hefted his shield higher. “No. But I want to make sure.”

  They spent several hours wandering through town and around the outskirts but didn’t find a trace of Sulla. As they returned to Ermine Street, Terentius felt an irrational urge to head to the Villa Cordus.

  “What are we doing?” Victor asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, then who does know?”

  “Shut up and follow me.”

  They crossed a shortcut through a field toward Ermine Street and that’s when Terentius saw a body lying in a watery ditch

  “Son of a bitch. It’s a soldier,” Victor said.

  They left the horses and ran to the prone body. Terentius sucked in a breath as he recognized the man.

  “It’s Crassus,” Terentius said, alarm rising in his gut. “He’s almost lost his head. This is a sword cut.”

  “Who?” Victor asked.

  Terentius stood, his jaw locked tight as his fists clenched. “I instructed him to escort Adrenia and her friend back home.”

  Victor, to his credit, looked concerned for once. “If he’s here, where are they?”

  “Come on!” Terentius ran back to his horse.

  Through snow flurries drifting through the air, and a biting wind, Terentius and Victor urged their horses into a gallop toward the Villa Cordus.

  Terentius urged his horse faster, his heartbeat pounding and a terrible dread eating him hollow. Victor didn’t speak, urging his horse with equal speed toward the goal. Terentius was glad Victor didn’t ask his motivations for running like the wind toward the villa and surrounding farmland. Terentius didn’t know whether to feel thankful or damn his own hide. He wanted to cry out, to rage. Instead he prayed to Mars that Adrenia and her friend were safe. As the wall surrounding the main villa came into view, and the longhouse where Adrenia lived beyond that, Terentius didn’t hesitate to charge down the lane. Two startled slaves looked up from their fieldwork. Several seconds later, a door opened in front of the longhouse and a tall female figure stepped outside.

  Their horses skidded to a stop as they came to the thatched roof house. Terentius jumped down from his horse and approached Ulpia Flora while Victor dismounted more slowly.

  Terentius managed a salute and civil greeting before he snapped out, “Where is Adrenia?”

  Ulpia’s cool expression turned as rancid as spoiled meat. “What has she done? Didn’t she return the cloak to you, Centurion?”

  He stepped close to the woman, towering over her. “She did. I sent her home with a soldier escort. Did she arrive safely?”

  “Yes, some time ago. But then she headed off to who knows where. She said she had one of those ridiculous visions of hers. Stupid girl.”

  Terentius felt the slow burn of worry retreating as he heard that Adrenia had made it home. In replacement, fury at her mother arose. “Your daughter is a resourceful and intelligent woman. Keep a civil tongue when you speak about her.”

  Ulpia’s mouth dropped open, but she just as quickly shut it. Her eyes blazed with suppressed indignation. “What do you want with her?”

  “That is my concern, woman. Where is your husband?”

  “Conducting business with Cordus.”

  Terentius took a deep breath. “You have no idea where Adrenia went?”

  “I do not. And I’m not sure I would tell you if I did. I must protect my daughter. How do I know your intentions are honorable?”

  Terentius shook his index finger in the woman’s face. “I think my intentions are more honorable than yours.”

  Without a parting salute, Terentius returned to his horse. Victor followed quickly and they took off down the lane.

  “Where to?” Victor threw a worried glance at Terentius. “Now that you know Adrenia is safe—”

  “I know no such thing. I don’t trust her bitch of a mother.” Using instincts that had saved him in battle more times than he cared to admit, he headed north. “We’re off to the Haunted Woods.”

  Adrenia entered the Haunted Woods, her body protected against the cold with the cloak she’d borrowed from Pella, and heavier boots she wore for winter. Snow drifted down in fluffy flakes that sparkled in an errant ray of sun peeking from behind a cloud. Just as fast, a darker cloud covered the sun, and the last cheerful feeling in the woods vanished. She’d walked a long time, her pace urgent, her heart heavy. With horrible clarity she knew Pella needed her. As with her vision earlier in the day that Terentius was in danger, she knew something had gone horribly wrong for Pella.

  Birds ceased to serenade her as she walked deeper into the leafy, thick foliage. Thick tree trunks in this ancient forest rose upward in homage to the sun. The earthy scent of growing things, of living trees teased her nose and made her smile despite her concern for Pella. She could have run to Pella’s home, but knew without a doubt she wouldn’t find her there.

  Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. The words echoed in her head like a drum.

  After walking quite a distance with a fine covering of snow beneath her feet, she saw a figure propped against a tree trunk. Her heart froze solid. Her breath seized. She recognized that sweet, giving femal
e face anywhere. The blood on the young woman’s face sent hot spirals of alarm straight through Adrenia.

  “Pella!” The anguish ripped from her in a half scream. “Pella!”

  She ran to her friend, hoping against hope. She fell down on her knees. Under the blood, Pella’s face gleamed as white as ice. No. No. No. Please no.

  “Pella.” She grabbed her friend’s wrist and felt for a pulse, placing her head on the woman’s chest to listen for a heartbeat.

  Adrenia held her breath.

  And found both pulse and breath.

  A cry ripped from Adrenia’s throat. “Help me!”

  Hoof beats coming from the south through the forest sent Adrenia’s heart lurching hard in fright. Then she heard a sound she didn’t expect, and was both frightened and elated by it.

  “Adrenia!”

  The male voice was familiar.

  Was it—?

  “Adrenia!”

  Still clutching Pella’s cold hand, Adrenia whispered her response through a constricted throat. “Over here!” She coughed, choking on her anxiety, and finally found volume for her desperate plea. “Over here!”

  She couldn’t breathe suddenly, her strength, her bravery failing in a panic so acute, she could hear her heart slamming in her ears like the drums of an approaching army. Terentius and Victor, riding their horses, crashed through the trees toward her. They wore scale armor and helmets. Terentius’s white and black transverse crest rode atop his helmet, acting as a beacon.

  She parted her lips and tried again. “Over here!”

  When they reached her, Terentius and Victor both dismounted quickly. Terentius looked equal parts relieved and concerned.

  “What happened?” Terentius crouched next to Adrenia, his hand gripping her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s not me. Pella’s hurt.”

  “Is she alive?” Victor asked as he crouched by the injured woman.

  “She is…” Adrenia’s voice cracked and tears slipped from her eyes. “I don’t know what happened to her. I just knew that something was wrong and—”

  She clamped her lips shut. No. She couldn’t say how she knew. Twice she’d revealed to Terentius her visions. She must not say any more.

  “Let me see her,” Victor said. “I have some training in patching up wounds.”

  Terentius encircled Adrenia’s waist and gently pulled her to her feet. “Come.”

  Adrenia clutched his arm. “No. I won’t leave her.”

  Terentius kept his arm around her, his other hand embracing hers. Tucked against his powerful body, she felt a sense of security and safety.

  “How did you know to find her here?” Terentius asked, his voice rusty and deep.

  She stared at Pella’s still form. “She… I…”

  He turned her toward him, forcing her to look at him. “How did you know?” His words were precise, but his tone kind.

  “The same way I knew about the man who would attack you today.”

  She registered him pulling back a little, as if he couldn’t believe her. Sadness wended its way through her, and she turned to look at Pella once more. Victor wound a cloth about Pella’s head.

  “You had another vision,” Terentius said.

  With reluctance, she nodded. “Yes.”

  “You do this often, then?”

  “Yes. But I beg of you to tell no one. If my parents find out I’ve mentioned…”

  His lips tightened into that indomitable disapproving line. “They’ll what?”

  Her voice was a whisper of sound. “They will be very angry.”

  His eyes, as plush with color as fresh summer grass, narrowed in disdain. “Why do I think it is more than that? What will they do?”

  “Punish me.”

  “As they did this with your hair?” He smoothed his fingers over her uneven hair.

  She shrugged. “Whatever pleases my father is what will happen. He is the law in our household, of course.”

  Terentius’s lips twisted, his voice cutting. “Of course.” His fingers tightened on her arms a moment, then his expression turned to the hardest ice. “We saw your mother before we came here. She is a monster of the first order.”

  She couldn’t feel indignant or outraged over his truthful description. “She does as a dutiful wife is instructed.”

  He grunted. “By allowing her husband or any man to abuse her daughter?”

  Adrenia didn’t know how to answer that. She shook her head again. “My father doesn’t see it that way.”

  He grunted again, the sound thick with disapproval.

  Terentius slipped his arm around her waist and drew her into his side. She didn’t want to lean against his strength, but the fright she’d suffered turned her knees to water. She drew in a shuddering breath.

  “This young woman has a head injury,” Victor said. “A medicus must tend to it.”

  “Is there a medicus on the villa grounds?” Terentius asked.

  “No.” Adrenia closed her eyes.

  “A woman who knows herbs?” Victor asked.

  “That would be me.”

  “What can you do?” Victor asked as he gently lifted Pella in his arms.

  “I’ve healed before.”

  Victor’s eyes widened. “Well, then. Let’s get her to safety.”

  “I’ll take Adrenia on my horse, while you carry Pella,” Terentius said to Victor. “We’ll take Pella to her husband, then Victor will ride for a medicus.”

  As Terentius led her toward his horse, she said, “But Pella’s husband has little money. He cannot afford a medicus. He is a poor farmer.”

  Terentius’s gaze bored into her. “I’ll pay for the medicus.”

  As he loaded her onto his horse and Victor took care of Pella, Adrenia marveled at the day’s events. Her worry for Pella, though still strong, eased now that Terentius offered his help.

  Thank the gods he’d come when he did.

  “How did you know to find me out here in the woods? Why did you come looking for me?” she asked as he swung up behind her.

  His strong body snuggled close, his arms embracing her waist and hands reaching for the reins. “Apparently you are not the only one with visions.”

  Chapter Six

  “Alea iacta est.”

  (The die has been cast.)

  Julius Caesar

  Roman General and Dictator (49 BC–44 BC), 100 BC–44 BC

  Terentius watched with fascination and admiration as Adrenia applied a warm paste to the cut on Pella’s forehead. Night had fallen and Victor hadn’t returned yet with a medicus. Once at the roundhouse that served as home for Pella and her husband Pontius, Adrenia had apparently lost her fear of showing her healing talents.

  “Help me wind this about her head,” Adrenia said to Pella’s husband. “This poultice will keep infection at bay.”

  Pontius assisted her without question. Though the man stood several inches shorter than Terentius, Pontius’s frame was wiry and strong. He obviously loved his wife to distraction. They’d met Pontius on the road from the villa. He’d gone looking for Pella since she was overdue to arrive home. At first Pontius had drawn a dagger from his belt, anger clear and alert on his thin, harshly hewn face. Adrenia had calmed him, explaining that Terentius and Victor were not the enemy. The man quickly understood that without their assistance, his wife would have frozen to death in the forest before Adrenia could have summoned help. Now, in this roundhouse with its few amenities, Terentius appreciated his larger quarters at Deva. His temporary home at the fort in Durovigutum couldn’t compete for size, and neither could this small abode.

  Still, a fire crackled in the hearth and oil lamps brought light to the modest room. All around the small place a woman’s attention showed. He wondered, in passing, how Adrenia would decorate a man’s home. The thought made his gut clench with unanswered feelings both mental and physical. Terentius watched Adrenia tend to her friend, worry etching her normally smooth brow. His admiration for her grew. She was br
ave and strong. He wanted to touch Adrenia, to comfort her, to say things he’d never contemplated declaring to a woman before. It frightened him more than any preparation for battle, and more than realizing that her visions came true. Even more, perhaps, than wondering how he’d known she needed his help in the Haunted Woods.

  Pontius and Adrenia pulled a heavy cover over Pella.

  Pontius sank down on his knees next to the bed, his large hand wrapping Pella’s much smaller one, his face marked with pronounced dread. “What if…”

  “No.” Adrenia’s voice came out soft with authority. “She’ll be fine.”

  “But she hasn’t opened her eyes once.” Pontius glared at Adrenia and then Terentius. “You think the soldier you found dead did this to her?”

  Terentius crossed his arms. “Doubtful. I didn’t know him well, but I have a sense about a man’s character. He knew the punishment if he did not deliver the women safely home. Even if he did hurt Pella, it doesn’t explain who killed him.”

  “He brought me straight home, I said goodbye to Pella, and then the two of them went off together,” she said.

  Pontius scraped one hand over his jaw and sighed. “I don’t blame you for what happened.”

  Terentius went to a window and pulled away the covering to peer into the darkness. “Someone must have killed Crassus and taken your wife. Someone far stronger than Crassus.”

  “Why?” Pontius’s voice held anger and despair.

  Terentius wished he had an answer, his gut clenching in sympathy for the man’s suffering. If anyone dared hurt Adrenia like this…

  Terentius knew then, if he hadn’t already, that his feelings for Adrenia grew deeper and tightened about him like a noose the longer he knew her. He didn’t like it. Didn’t understand it. Yet there seemed no cure for his predicament.

  The sound of horses coming closer sent Terentius from the smaller room, through the main area and outside. Victor had arrived with the medicus. The thin, tall medicus didn’t come from the fort, but directly from town. Terentius explained quickly he’d pay the man’s fee, and the medicus nodded without questioning. Once inside and at Pella’s bedside, the medicus questioned the bandaging and poultice.