by Aidan, Nadia
It should have been a day like all the rest, except she felt the absence of Cassius and Titus so strongly. She worried for them throughout the day so much that she could hardly concentrate on her tasks.
Her final report for the day was always from her breeder, and when that was done, she remained in the stables to saddle one of her mares. A ride across her lands would relax her, would ease her mind, she thought, until she caught sight of the golden boy hovering out of the corner of her eye.
“Leviticus,” she sighed. “It is almost dusk and your commanders will return shortly. I encourage you to retire to your quarters and rest. I know you have been with me all day.” She wanted to repeat her last words because truly the man had not left her side, he was like a veritable shadow. “But I am sure you are tired,” she continued.
She knew that he was. His eyes were bleary, his movements slower than they’d been earlier. She’d learned that this was Leviticus’ first assignment, being dispatched to Siga. He had distinguished himself throughout his training and was well regarded, but she suspected he was not yet battle worn and hardened, that he had not quite forged the temerity to remain awake over the course of days. With a bittersweet smile, she reasoned that was because he’d not lived through war—as she had, as Cassius and Titus. She hoped he never did, as futile as such a desire was. After all he was a soldier, a Roman one at that.
“I was instructed not to leave your side.”
She had to force herself not to roll her eyes. She had no doubt who’d issued such a command. Cassius.
“I only wish to ride. You may ride with me if you like.”
He hesitated, but she pressed on.
“I promise not to go far, we can ride together for a few minutes and then we can return.”
He seemed to weigh her words before he replied, “I see no harm in that. I will saddle my horse.”
Anan was relieved that he’d agreed because if he had not she would have been forced to sneak away again, something that would have proven extremely difficult under his hawk-eye stare.
She turned to lead her mount outside, but stopped when a figure blocked the entryway, his large frame crowding out the light. With the sun at his back, she could not make out his features, but rays danced along his arm and it glowed in the light.
He was one of Cassius’ men, she decided as he approached.
“Domina,” he said, coming to a stop before her. “I am sorry to intrude upon you, but I have orders from the Decurio—”
“Orders? Has he returned?” She was already pushing past the soldier.
“Not as yet and that is why I need you to come with me. He has sent word that you are not safe here.”
She stilled. “Not safe? Who does he believe wishes me harm?”
“I was not told, only that I was to retrieve you and take you from here.”
“And go where?”
“To Vesta, domina.”
She frowned at that. To Vesta? A nearby province whose people had long nursed a grudge against her family line? Although the invasion of Roman troops had all but quieted such grudges, still, what would Cassius know of the provinces of her land, and if she was in danger, why not have her seek shelter at one of the Roman outposts? Unless he did not trust his Roman legions.
She noticed then that the soldier’s helmet still covered his face, and that would not have been odd except the men of Cassius’ unit had taken to carrying their helmets at their sides or secured against their saddles.
That he did not remove his helmet was her first clue, that his eyes were cold and determined was her second. She remembered that night when a shadowed figure had crept inside her private chambers while she slept between Cassius and Titus. The silhouette had been that of a soldier, a Roman centurion.
“What is your name, soldier?”
He seemed to realize then that he was reaching his end with her, which was why he probably became desperate.
When he lifted his arm to point his blade at her chest, she needed no other hint as to his purpose.
She spun around and took off in a run, deeper into the stable, searching for a weapon. She found it in an iron rake and grabbed for it desperately, swinging it around to batter the side of his head with the metal end.
He howled, less in pain, more in outrage as he stumbled backward. She continued to pound him, to beat him until one of the tongs of the rake ripped his helmet off his head.
She did not stop as she bashed at him, until he dropped his sword. It was all he could do to keep his arm up to protect his face. Realizing he was at a disadvantage, he retreated and raced out of the stables.
Anan turned at the sound of the doors behind her closing shut. She trudged through straw and hay to see the double wooden doors had been closed shut. When she heard the sound of the other doors, the ones her attacker had rushed out of, close firmly shut, she knew then that she was trapped.
She did not have time to dwell upon that when a low groan came from below her. Leviticus.
She dropped down beside him. His forehead was stained with blood, but as she ran her hands across his armored body, she was relieved to find he did not appear to have been wounded.
“What happened?” she asked, helping him to his feet.
“I was heading back here to where our horses are kept and out of nowhere I was clubbed against the forehead.”
“Did you see who did this?”
He frowned. “I don’t know who it was, but he wore our armor.” Leviticus’ face darkened. “There is a traitor among us.”
She started to tell him not to be so hasty, that they did not know that, but then she noticed the air was all of a sudden heavier, clouded with dust.
She corrected herself. Not dust. As her nostrils burned and her lungs began to ache, she realized it was not dust at all.
It was smoke.
Whoever had attacked her and Leviticus had set the stables on fire and now they were trapped inside.
Chapter Ten
Cassius raced back to Anan’s villa with Titus at his side. What he’d learned while speaking with their commander filled him with fury.
Had Anan not suffered enough at the hands of that woman? Was it not enough that she had borne a child to Anan’s husband and now resided in her childhood home?
It would seem it was not enough, for Cassius had discovered it was Maia, Quintus’ mother, who had orchestrated the raids upon Anan’s lands. What he did not understand was why Maia had hired Roman soldiers to raid the lands of her son as well.
Titus thought it a ploy to divert suspicion, but Cassius was not certain. Nonetheless, their commander would soon find out when he arrested both Maia and Quintus. Their commander had done his best to arrest the traitors from his legion who’d been bribed by Maia to do her bidding, although he suspected, as did Cassius, some had managed to get away, and there were probably soldiers still among them who they would never know as traitors. That unsettled Cassius the most, to know some of the bastards would get away.
Cassius was impatient to return to Anan, to tell her she would be safe from here on out. Cassius dreaded returning to Anan to tell her of what he’d learned, because it meant he would leave soon. His commander had said as much. With the threat contained, Anan no longer needed a personal guard. She was not behind these raids, quite the opposite. And now that she was safe, he and Titus would be ordered to return to Rome.
As they rode over the last hill to Anan’s villa, his only thought was of how he would tell her that he and Titus would be forced to leave soon.
He recalled the words she’d uttered the night before, to simply speak them in his head made his heart ache.
She wanted no part of a man who was too cowardly, too weak to find a way to be with the one he desired.
But he had no choice, Titus had no choice.
They were soldiers. Following orders was what they did. She must understand that. They could make Siga their home and return to it in between tours. With a heavy heart, he knew he lied to himself. Anan would
not think it enough. She would refuse such an arrangement because she would not beg for what she should not have to.
He’d promised he would not make her beg, and he would not.
As he cleared the last hill, his insides warmed with the knowledge of what he planned to do, what he had to do. Titus would agree to it, he was certain.
He had only to convince Anan.
And his legion commander.
The elation he experienced was short-lived, however, when he trotted on horseback toward the villa and saw smoke billowing into the sky.
Fear coiled inside his belly as he urged his mount to go faster until he reached the entryway.
As soon as he did, he was greeted by chaos, as servants and soldiers raced about searching for water they did not have.
The well was low from the last fire and the pools were the same because the rains had not come. Still, they seemed undaunted as they gathered water. The fire was still low, only one side of the stable was in bad shape and it was quickly being doused.
But that’s not what concerned him, that’s not what made his blood run cold with dread.
“Where is Anan?” he demanded of Olivia when he finally found her.
“I do not know, Decurio. I have not seen her since she said she was going to take a ride.”
A ride?
He glanced over at the stables again.
“What about Leviticus? Have you seen him?”
Again, she shook her head.
He cursed, already racing toward the stables, with Titus beside him.
Titus knew. Their mind had always been of the same accord.
When they arrived at the stables to find the front entryway locked, Cassius frowned and he experienced a fear he had not since he’d watched Titus’ belly slashed open before his eyes.
It was not the fire that worried him. The fire was almost out.
It was the smoke—the very real possibility that Anan was trapped inside suffocating to death.
He reached for the bar that ran across the door, and with Titus’ help he pushed it aside. Together they flung the doors open, choking as smoke billowed out to rake their lungs, their nostrils.
He could barely see, but he covered his face with his helmet and rushed inside, calling Anan’s name.
That she did not answer, that no one did, caused his gut to clench with dread. He pressed deeper inside, the smoke swamping him, growing heavier.
He turned at the sound of Titus calling his name, and that is when he heard it. In that moment it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
Coughing.
Huddled in a corner he saw Anan, her head buried in her garment, beside Leviticus who was doing the same.
Cassius stopped long enough to call her name, but when she looked up, he didn’t glimpse the welcome relief he’d been expecting to see across her face. Instead her eyes widened in terror and she drew away.
He called her name again, his voice firmer. The smoke was growing thicker. They had only moments to get out of there before any of them lost consciousness.
“Cassius?” she choked out, and when he nodded, she visibly relaxed, letting him lift her into his arms. Titus did the same with Leviticus and together they rushed out of the stables, which still billowed out thick, black smoke.
As Cassius hunkered down in the grass with Anan still in his arms, he held her against him, tighter than he ever had before, letting the steady drum of her beating heart pound through him. From over the top of his head, he snared Titus’ gaze, filled with equal measures of concern, of fear. The look that passed between them confirmed any doubts Cassius had of the decision he would have to make.
He tore his gaze from Titus to peer down into the flushed face of the woman who was nestled against him, her cheeks covered in ash and soot. He noticed their hearts beat in one accord and his gut clenched as she looked up at him then with those beautiful golden eyes that always pierced his heart and had the ability to see straight to his soul.
He touched his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, not of passion, but of love. And in that moment, Cassius knew without a doubt what he felt for Anan was love of the purest kind, the same enduring love he felt for Titus.
* * * * *
Anan was fine, Leviticus as well. She’d lost a few horses, but all would be replaced from Quintus’ stables. Along with the livestock and fruit tree she’d lost—that was to be replaced by Quintus as well.
Where he was going, he would not need livestock and horses.
It should have warmed her to see him cut so low, to know she now possessed what had always been hers. To have her family lands once again in her possession.
She derived no pleasure in his suffering, in his humiliation. She’d not wanted that. She’d only wanted what was hers.
“Why did you do it?” she asked the woman on the other side of the iron bars, her face still youthful and lovely, even as her heart was treacherous.
Quintus’ fall from grace, she had not wished, but Maia had almost cost Anan her life. She could not say she was feeling quite so charitable toward the woman.
“You know why,” Maia rasped bitterly. “You have always stood in the way of Quintus’ inheritance.”
“Inheritance?” Anan glared at the woman through the metal rods. “What belonged to my father is mine and mine alone. Quintus was never due any of what has belonged to my family for many generations.”
“Maximinius promised—”
“Something that was not his to promise.” Anan regarded Maia with a mixture of rage and pity. She had once been Anan’s dear friend, but it was her desperate ambition that had brought her to this place. Of course Maximinius had promised what was not his to promise to his only son. And Anan had been forced to turn over what was rightfully hers to Quintus, but she’d refused to give him everything, yet it would seem Maia would not be content until her son had it all, until Anan was thoroughly defeated, which made no sense. Why now? Why plot to do away with her after all these years had passed? These very questions nagged at her, which finally prompted her to ask them of Maia.
“If I tell you this, you must promise not to share this with Quintus.”
Anan nodded, though she did not know why she did it. She owed Maia nothing, not even the sanctity of her promise, but Maia would have it nonetheless.
“I am dying. Quintus does not know this, and I wish it to remain this way.” Her hands tightened around the bars as if it pained Maia to simply continue. “With you still alive, you would always threaten his power, his legitimacy as the absolute regent of the province. With you gone, I knew his position would be forever secure, and I could have died peacefully with that knowledge.”
The venomous tone of Maia’s voice told Anan that she believed she would not die peacefully because of what Anan had done. Because she’d protected herself and her holdings against Maia’s treachery, Maia could not live out the rest of her days knowing her son would be well taken care of. Anan shook her head sadly. Did Maia even hear herself? Or were her thoughts, her mind, so twisted? Probably.
And yet Anan understood Maia’s position, though she would not have chosen such a path. She understood Maia’s dying wish to see that her son’s power and position would be forever secure. But Maia had failed and now she would die alone in a prison cell, and her son was now in prison as well, and though he swore he was innocent, he remained under grave suspicion because of his connection to Maia. Even if the Roman government released him, he would have none of the things he’d possessed before he’d been imprisoned. Maia’s deadly plan had been formed out of a deranged mind that was foolish and it had failed. In her desperation to have all these dying wishes fulfilled she’d ruined her son’s life. Everything she’d wanted for Quintus, for her last days, was no longer possible and the fault rested on her shoulders alone.
Maia looked at Anan from eyes that had once belonged to a friend, a dear one. But time and treachery, ambition and deceit had forever destroyed whatever affection had existed between them. Sadly, it had de
stroyed the woman she’d once known as well.
Anan stared back into liquid brown eyes shadowed by the mistakes of her past, by the life she’d lived. She stared into those eyes for a few moments longer before she turned to leave, and with each step she took, she left Maia behind her, the pain this woman’s affair with her husband had caused her, and all the bitterness she hadn’t known she’d still harbored until two men had entered her life and dared to heal her.
Without a word, or a look back, Anan left Maia behind her, and every painful memory from her past, finally free of the demons that had haunted her for so long—but no more.
* * * * *
The prison lay at the heart of the city and Anan was happy to finally depart from it. The entire building was under heavy guard as Roman soldiers stood vigilant, watching over Maia, Quintus and the thirteen soldiers who’d been involved in the raids upon her lands and Quintus’.
She’d learned the raids on Quintus’ holdings were as Anan had suspected. Maia did not want the Romans to grow suspicious of Quintus and she’d done it as a ploy. It was clever, except she’d not anticipated the tenacity of Cassius and Titus.
They had been on to her plot for some time and they’d sent word to their legion commander requesting an audience to confirm their suspicions. Their legion commander had no trouble believing them for he’d caught three of his men sneaking back into camp the night of the fire in her orchard. From then on, it was a simple matter of getting the rest to reveal the other culprits. Although the two men who’d locked her inside the barn had still gotten away.
But they would not get very far. Their faces were well known. It would only be a matter of time before they tried to return home, where soldiers had been alerted to be on guard and detain them on sight.
At the thought of home, Anan sighed, happy to once again have returned to hers as she set foot inside her villa, relieved this was all finally over.