For a Roman's Heart

by Denise A. Agnew

  Fear spiked upwards, and she took an involuntary step back. Murder raged in his eyes, and she wondered if her last moment had come.

  No. No. She wouldn’t let him harm Terentius’s baby. She wouldn’t. She spied the gladius at his waist and licked her lips. If she could just—

  His hand flashed out, clamped around her throat. “You are finished playing with me, and you are finished cursing me.”

  She gagged as the pressure increased. Her hands went up involuntarily as terror ripped through her. She clasped his wrists. Yanked. Tugged.

  His eyes, now wild and manic, glared into hers. “Your soldier can’t save you now.”

  Rage ripped through her as the pain in her throat became excruciating. She released one of his wrists. Grappled. Searched. Found his gladius and ripped it from the scabbard. With a strangled gurgle of fury, she jammed it straight into the side of his neck. Blood spurted onto her face. She opened her mouth. Tried to scream. Silence. Instantly the pressure on her throat released.

  Eyes wide with shock or disbelief, Sulla stumbled backwards and yanked the knife from his throat. She coughed, choked, couldn’t find her breath as she watched him fall to his knees, blood spurting. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell flat on his face. Nausea ripped up her throat. Trembling, she didn’t dare look at the body. She ran to the door and fumbled with the latch as breaths escaped her throat in wretched sobs. She dashed from the room and forced her weak legs to take her to the end of the alley and the forum where she hoped to find Pella and Longa. She came to the end of the alley and leaned against the wall.

  Pella and Longa waited some distance away where she’d left them. Though the forum was mostly empty, a few stragglers walked along. At first no one seemed to notice her. She held her hand up and tried to call out to her friends but she couldn’t speak. Pella laughed and threw back her head, then looked around and saw Adrenia. Her eyes widened, hand going to her throat as she grabbed Longa’s sleeve. Adrenia witnessed Longa’s horrified expression, eyes startled, mouth open. Both women leapt from the wagon and raced toward her, and that’s when Adrenia noticed the blood soaking her clothes. Hers? Sulla’s? She didn’t know. Weakness assaulted Adrenia’s limbs. She sagged against the wall and slid down until she landed on her butt. Everything went blurry, then black.

  Front Line

  Germania

  Legio II Italica

  Terentius rubbed his cold hands together and hoped for sun. He gazed out across troop lines, their breaths puffing out in long streams. Above them to the back and front and on all sides, vast forested lands converged to hide their numerous enemies. Terentius had no doubt, though, that this legion would suffice and destroy the Germanic tribes, but he thought the general made a serious mistake not waiting until spring to fight the barbarians. Terentius heard the man felt invincible. Waiting until spring would show weakness, according to the general.

  Such overconfidence made Terentius uneasy.

  Most of the soldiers in Legio II Italica were formed from conscripts from Italia, far from this freezing land. Their blood, however thin at first, had thickened in the relentless cold that didn’t want to subside.

  Yes, the men were nervous, and so was he. He’d never been addled prior to battle. Maybe recalling Adrenia’s vision about this campaign tinted his thoughts. Mars, he’d thought of her every day, far more than once a day, especially at night. All he wanted was to hold Adrenia in his arms and find comfort in her soft, hot body. He gritted his teeth. When he returned to Britannia, he would take her and love her and ask her...no, beg her to marry him. Beg her to have his children.

  He glanced at Victor. Few things bothered the man, but this time, this campaign harbored unusual nuances for them both.

  Terentius smiled to ease the tension and clapped his hand on his optio’s shoulder. “It’s too cold to fight.”

  Victor rubbed his hands together just as Terentius had moments ago, then tightened the helmet strap at his chin. “You’ve got that right.”

  “Let’s go to it then,” Terentius said. “You know what to do if I—”

  “Isn’t going to happen.”

  As always, his optio wouldn’t let him finish that thought. As far as Victor was concerned, Terentius was immortal and so was he.

  Icy wind shifted. The tempest swirled along the ground, as if heralding the battle to come. Their emblem, the she-wolf Lupa, flapped in the breeze. Terentius’s gut tightened, but something in the wind felt different, and he didn’t know what. Simply, an unease rose inside him he couldn’t shake.

  Feeling off-kilter, he said to Victor, “Then let us have our bloody adventures.”

  Victor’s eyes, serious in a way Terentius rarely witnessed, seemed darker and filled with bleakness. “Only the first of many, sir.”

  He saluted Terentius, and with a smile, Terentius returned the salute.

  They moved into their respective places, and soon the army in front of him and behind him went quiet as a tomb in the darkest night. Again the wind swirled along the ground and whipped into frenzy. Terentius heard thousands of marching feet approach. At the front, the marauders heading toward Legion II Italica created a great roar until Terentius heard nothing else. Estimates said seven thousand men came at them. Easy pickings for a five-thousand-strong legion with auxiliaries of a thousand cavalry.

  All around him, men readied in their hearts and minds. There would be no running. No turning back. No disgrace. Though Terentius sometimes longed to serve Legio XX Valeria Victrix once more, he would fight and die for his fellow soldiers here. For Rome. For victory. Because it was in his blood. Pride surged inside him and stiffened his resolve. He would not falter. Honor was everything.

  Behind him the ballistae and catapultae strained to pull back, then exploded in a flurry. Flaming objects hurled above their heads and reigned down upon the enemy. Death cries and defiant screams returned. Archers released their flaming arrows, and Legion II Italica advanced. Terentius and the cohort moved as one body, sixth in line as the other cohorts ahead progressed. The enemy suddenly surged forward in a strong wave.

  What ensued then didn’t surprise Terentius. It tested all his training, what he’d known someday could happen.

  As the barbarians clashed against the forward troops, the clank of sword against sword and shield against shield echoed a thousand times over. Swarms of enemy rounded the left side, and the cohort closed ranks. Arrows from the back rained down on the barbarians, but they progressed despite the onslaught. As shields came together in the phalanx, muscles strained, blood pumped, grunting and sounds of exertion came to his ears. He pushed along with the others, surprised by the initial side attack and angry the enemy had broken through. Rage made him stronger and more determined.

  He blew his whistle to signal to his men, and they renewed efforts. The push went on. After what seemed a century, the frontal attack from the enemy swelled. More combatants came down from the forested hills. Relentless, the enemy rushed forward from the left flank. Waving clubs, axes, screaming with rough, animal calls, they descended. Terentius turned toward the threat.

  Bracing. Ready.

  Two men charged him, death etched in their eyes. Terentius sliced, hacked, a stabbing motion to block another blow and yet another. With gasps for air, he feinted to the left as one man hurled forward. He slashed him across the throat and the man fell. A guttural sound issued from the other man’s throat. Terentius’s sword flashed again and the second man fell. Victor’s yell came from the left and Terentius whirled.

  Victor screamed as a man ran toward him. “Roma Victa, you bastard!”

  Another soldier stumbled into Victor and sent him tottering. Victor tried to regain his balance, but his attacker lunged, plunged his sword into Victor’s side.

  “No!” Terentius started toward his optio.

  A horrible yell came from the right, and in that second Terentius’s world slowed to a crawl. A hairy, bearded enemy ran toward him.

  A vision flashed before Terentius’s eyes
and slowed his response to the threat. Adrenia slumped against a wall, her front awash in blood.

  “No!” He reached out to her.

  And felt the cold slice of iron.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Happy are those who dare courageously to defend what they love.”

  Ovid

  Roman Poet, BC 43– c. AD 18

  Two days later

  Durovigutum, Britannia

  “Adrenia, my dear. It’s time to wake up.” Longa’s voice drifted into Adrenia’s foggy consciousness.

  She wanted to sleep longer. “No.”

  Aches penetrated as well.

  A warm hand touched Adrenia’s forehead. “Come now, listen to her.” Pella’s voice cajoled. “Longa, maybe she does need more sleep. She’s been through too much.”

  Longa’s sigh filled with impatience. “I think she’s avoiding waking up because of what Sulla said and did to her. Because she killed him and doesn’t wish to face it.”

  Memories rushed toward Adrenia, and she came full awake with a gasp. Adrenia saw Longa and Pella standing on either side of her bed. For a moment, she didn’t recognize her surroundings, then realized she lay in bed in her own room above the shop.

  Longa and Pella smiled, their exclamations of relief ringing in Adrenia’s ears.

  “You’re awake.” Pella touched Adrenia’s forehead again. “You are too warm.”

  “I’ll send for the medicus again.” Longa started away.

  “No.”

  Longa turned back. “How do you feel?”

  “Strange. Where...?”

  “You’re back home, here with me and Pella. Pontius is taking care of the situation with Sulla.”

  Adrenia sat bolt upright. “The authorities—they’ll think I murdered him!”

  Longa sat on the bed next to her. “No, dear. They’ve already been here. The man who is acting as beneficiarius until Terentius returns was here asking questions. We told him what we know.”

  “But he doesn’t know what happened. No one does.”

  “He wants to talk to you, but he never said anything about charging you with murder. Just rest now.”

  “I want to talk to him right away.”

  Pella and Longa darted looks between them.

  “Very well.” Pella headed toward the door. “But in the meantime, you must eat. You’ve been asleep off and on for two days.”

  “Two days?” Astonished, Adrenia rubbed her forehead. “How can that be?”

  “Your throat was bruised. You were exhausted from your ordeal.” Pella gave her a cautious, concerned look. “You’ve worked so hard since Terentius left. Too hard. You need some rest.”

  After Pella exited the room, Longa reached for another pillow and piled it behind Adrenia, then pulled a cover over her. “She’s right you know. You’ve worked hard and long and accumulated quite a money cache for yourself. Not to mention that Terentius left you a tidy sum. You could stand to take at least a couple of days to recover. Rest here.”

  Adrenia sank back into the pillows and drew the cover to her chin. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  Longa’s affectionate expression warmed Adrenia’s heart. “Of course, my dear. You have good friends in Pella and Pontius, and a friend in me. We are soldier’s wives, you and I. We must stick together. When the worry has stripped us raw, we can talk it out. I cherish my friendship with you and Pella.”

  Self-doubt filled Adrenia with sharp agony. “Even after I killed a man?”

  “Of course. It was self-defense, Adrenia. If you had not killed him, Pella and I would be writing a letter to Terentius telling him of your passing. Pella and I are so grateful you weren’t hurt more seriously.”

  Adrenia nodded, ashamed. “Of course. You’re the best friends a woman could have. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry.” Longa shook her head. “If I’d had to bear some of the things you’ve encountered so far in my life, I don’t think I would have made it. I don’t know if I would have the strength you do. Now, rest so that when Terentius returns his wife is healthy.”

  Adrenia almost argued the point that she wasn’t Terentius’s wife in official capacity. She looked down at the small ring on her left hand. But, in her heart, she was his wife. And she would be forever.

  “Are you sure the beneficiarius won’t arrest me?” Adrenia asked.

  “My husband and I know Celsus. He is an honorable man. Celsus told me when he was here after you were attacked...well, he told me he’s glad Sulla is dead. Terentius won’t have to worry about him either when he returns.”

  Adrenia closed her eyes, glad Sulla could never harm another woman. Yet she knew his face would haunt her dreams forever.

  Two weeks later

  “This cape is so wonderful,” the woman said to Adrenia as they stood at the front of the table where Adrenia’s and Longa’s newest wares were on display. “So soft. It will fit my little girl quite wonderfully.”

  Adrenia beamed. “I am pleased you like it.”

  “My husband will quite approve of me buying more clothing here. He says I do a horrible job of weaving.”

  Adrenia laughed with the woman as she wrapped the purchase. Since the fair the shop’s popularity had skyrocketed, and now that Sulla was dead Adrenia felt a new load lifted from her shoulders. The only thing that would make life more complete would be Terentius’s return. After the woman left, Longa rushed into the shop.

  “My dear, would you look at this.” Longa brandished a bundle of folded notes. “Letters from our husbands.”

  Longa glowed, and Adrenia met her in the middle of the room. Longa’s hands held two notes, and she handed Adrenia one.

  “I hadn’t expected any letters at all,” Longa said. “Capito is a horrible letter writer.”

  Adrenia stared at the wax-sealed note with her name on it, her heart thumping with excitement.

  Adrenia eased open her note, while Longa ripped open her letter. Both retreated to a chair to read.

  My dear Adrenia,

  We have been in Germania a couple of weeks, and I am just now getting the opportunity to write. Things here are harsh, of course, but I am used to that. Nothing surprises me about the conditions. The commander of Legio II Italica seems a good man, if a bit overconfident. All I can hope for is that his leadership will take us through our battle intact.

  “Oh, this is wonderful,” Longa said.

  Adrenia looked up from her letter. “Oh?”

  “My letter is dated a month after they were there. Capito says many interesting and glorious things.” Long threw her a sideways glance that teased.

  Adrenia returned her friend’s mischievous look. “I can imagine.”

  Adrenia continued her letter.

  Soon we will be at the front, my Adrenia, and I don’t know how free I’ll be or when I can write. Know only that I think of you several times a day and cannot wait to feel you in my arms. Your body next to mine...I long for you naked and warm. I desire with all my heart to be inside you.

  Adrenia blushed to the roots of her hair, and his words made her body sing. She twisted one finger around a strand of her hair. Her hair, now barely touching her shoulders, was easier to manage, and people didn’t notice it as much as before. She pushed one hand through her hair and imagined Terentius’s fingers doing the same. She missed him with a relentless ache.

  This letter must be shorter than I wanted. There is much work to do. I hope you are well and happy and that Longa and Pella are looking after you. Hold me close to your heart, dear one. I will pray to the goddesses and gods for your happiness and safety.

  She wished she could touch him and experience his arms wrapped around her with love and sensual promise. She ached to have him inside her, thrusting deep, pounding into her until she screamed in ecstasy.

  Sweet Adrenia, stay safe. Do not try and send a letter. I doubt it would make it here. I will see you soon.

  The gods and goddesses protect you.

  Terentius

>   Her eyes filled with happy tears. “What a beautiful letter.”

  Longa looked up from her own letter, then folded it carefully. “Indeed. So was mine.” She sighed. “We should celebrate. Tonight we will have the best wine in the house.”

  Adrenia laughed and stood. “There is only one kind of wine in the house.”

  “Then we shall have it. The stew will be a perfect match.”

  “As it is every day.”

  Longa frowned, but at the same time, her eyes mocked her seriousness. She placed her letter on the table and reached for Adrenia. She squeezed her shoulders.

  “Adrenia, you are the most practical woman I know. You are allowed to be happy, though. Relieved and happy and to enjoy the moment.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s not be sorry. Simply enjoy. Now, I have some work to finish and so do you. See you later.”

  After Longa left the room, Adrenia sagged back into her chair and reread the letter. Despite the hardships he endured, he’d taken the time to write her. Fear resided in her heart, and she wondered if he’d fought the enemy yet. The vision she’d had two days before he left Britannia never haunted her again, and she was thankful for it. At the same time, her unease about the dream never quite diminished.

  Thankfully, the authorities had declared her innocent of wrongdoing in the death of Sulla. They understood that she’d defended herself from certain death. What would Terentius think once he learned she’d killed the one man he couldn’t capture?

  In the meantime, she would keep this letter close to her heart. As time continued, she wove her capes, tunics and tunica, palla and stola. Her reputation around Durovigutum had grown, and respect for her weavings increased as the quality underwent inspection. Nothing could derail her from this fortune. She kissed the letter and tucked it into her bodice. It stayed there, against her heart and warmed her.

  Six weeks later

  Adrenia opened the front door slowly, and when she saw Celsus standing there, a creeping disquiet blocked all thoughts.