by Sofia Grey
“My husband is called Marc.”
I saw amusement flash across her face. “You like playing games, hmm? Unlucky for you that I make the rules here.”
Right up to the point where the door slammed, I hadn’t thought she’d leave me there, in the dark. I gulped. A bolt crashed into place, muffled footsteps receded, and I was alone. It felt like a heavy blanket pressing down on me, and I fought to stay calm. I could do this. Anger was better than fear, and I had to channel my rage. I used the rope to haul myself to my feet, awkward, but standing. And then I yelled.
I screamed Rowena’s name. I shouted for anyone that might hear me. I hurled every obscenity I could think of and invented some more. I cursed her soundly in every language I knew, invoking every God and spirit I could remember. I would not give in to tears.
If Jared could survive nearly two years here, I could manage a few hours in the cellar. Marc would come for me soon.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jared
The guard prodded Jared with the tip of his short sword, and nudged him back up to the main levels. “Mistress Hilde wants you in her quarters.” His gaze raked up and down the slave. “Better clean your face and hands first.” He nodded to the courtyard, to the buckets of water set aside for washing. “Go. And make haste.”
Everything inside Jared screamed to go back for Lila. Every grain of common sense told him to figure out a strategy first. With feet like lead, he stumbled across to the washing buckets and saw Kai hauling a sack over her shoulder. Ignoring the guard on his heels, Jared lurched forward to help her settle it onto the back of a waiting pony. Hooves stamped as they fastened the load, and he took care to keep his feet clear. He risked a look at the guard; the man was gossiping with one of his colleagues, for the moment Jared and Kai were ignored.
“Kai, how did you manage to bring me the water?”
Her gaze shifted to the leather straps, and she peered intently at the buckle that refused to fasten under her tiny fingers. “Is that your friend in the cellar?”
He wasn’t surprised she knew. The slaves knew more about the events of the hall than the warlord himself. “Yes. And I’m worried about her. Would you be able to take her a drink and pass on a message?”
“What would you have me say?”
I love you with all my heart. He swallowed the words down. “I will come for her.”
Kai nodded. The last buckle slipped into place, and they moved apart as though no words had been spoken. Jared sluiced a cup of water over his dusty head, scratched at his beard and rinsed his hands. He bought some time for Kai and watched the girl as she darted toward the main building.
Judging by the position of the sun, it was still early morning. He stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders, and then took a deep breath and made for Hilde’s quarters.
Her door was open, and he peered through to see her standing by the window, gazing down at the courtyard. She was fully dressed, so hopefully she didn’t want sex right now. He couldn’t concentrate on anything at the moment except Lila. He kept seeing her bound wrists when they tied her to the wall. Kept remembering Rowena’s taunting smile. He should have killed her when he had the chance. Dear God, just the thought of Lila in the cellar made him want to throw up. If he hadn’t called Rowena the wrong name, none of this would have happened.
It was all his fault.
“Wolf.” Hilde’s voice was sharp. “You’ve had a busy night, I hear.” She didn’t seem to expect a reply, so he waited, eyes down. A long moment passed and then she spoke again, her voice more gentle. “You have served me well, but you are being transferred to Mistress Rowena. I doubt this comes as a surprise.”
She walked across the sunlit room and stood next to him, her skirts rustling over the floor. “There is one last thing I want you to do for me.” He felt a hand curl around his shoulder and sighed inwardly. Here we go.
“I would like you to carry a message. Look at me, Wolf.”
Lifting his head, he met her gaze and saw sadness on her face and a fresh set of lines around her mouth. “You made me feel young again. And I wish to give you something in return.” She thrust a small wax tablet at him, bound with red threads and bearing her seal. “Take this to the guard in the eastern block. It instructs him to allow you a few minutes with the prisoners.”
“Mistress?” He couldn’t keep the puzzlement from his voice. Lila was held in the cellar, not the eastern block.
“The merchant who arrived yesterday. He knows you, and I’m thinking he may be a friend of yours?”
Lila’s companion. He might be a ghardian. Jared kept his face blank and squashed the bubble of excitement.
“He is to be used for Blót at the midsummer rites, when my son returns. I thought you might want to speak with him first, take a message to his wife.” She hesitated. “The news might come softer from you, than from my daughter-in-law.”
He finally grasped what she meant. A chance to speak to the ghardian, and see Lila. The ghardian was to be used for Blót… A shiver ran down Jared’s spine. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew it wouldn’t be good. After two years, he could speak their language like a native, but occasional phrases were still new. Blót. Wasn’t that something to do with a challenge? Maybe he’d have to fight for his freedom? Jared had to think of something. Save the ghardian. Rescue Lila. Escape. Ignoring the protocols, he cupped both hands around Hilde’s face and stared into her pale eyes. “Thank you, mistress.” He drew a smile from Hilde and, for a fleeting moment, he could imagine her as a young woman.
“You won’t have long before Rowena calls for you. Go now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lila
My voice had given out. I couldn’t make any further sounds but I continued to curse Rowena in my head. Anything to push the darkness away. I tried to swallow, and wished I’d thought more about this. My mouth and throat were parched. God, how I needed a drink.
A disgusting stink rose from the floor. It smelled as though a dozen chickens had been left to rot, and I tried to laugh at myself. It would just be a decomposing turnip or a dead mouse. In the blackness, though, it was easy to imagine something far worse. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Focus. Think about the archives. Our records were wrong on so many points. Everyone believed the Saxons destroyed everything Roman in their path, but here was solid evidence of them using it for their own. This warlord had simply taken possession and moved his household into a Roman villa. When I got home, I had so much work to do.
A sound drew my attention: a bolt being drawn. The heavy door creaked open enough to allow a small figure to slip through, and as I squinted, the guard took up position just inside the cellar. It might have only been a single, flickering torch, but I was blinded by the sudden light. I stood, shielding my eyes and blinking as I struggled to adjust to the dim light. It was a while before I saw a child slave standing before me, a bowl of water in her hands.
I scrabbled toward her on my knees, with my hands bound in front of me. The rope was lashed so tightly, I could no longer feel my fingers.
“Let me help you.” She raised the bowl to my lips and held it steady as I gulped the cool, slightly dusty liquid. Nectar.
“Thank you,” I rasped, gorging on the water. It had never tasted so sweet.
“I bring a message from Wolf,” she whispered. “He says he will come for you.” My heart leaped in my chest.
“Yes. Thank you,” I repeated. Maybe Jared was working on an escape plan. With Marc. The stink suddenly didn’t seem so bad; I could ignore it. The girl nodded and moved to stand beside the guard, her head bent.
“About time,” he grumbled, pulling her into shadows beside the door. Moments later, the light was gone and the door crashed shut. I was alone again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jared
Jared ran the length of the hall, wax tablet in his hands—just another slave in a hurry. It was almost the solstice. The ghardian was to be challenged, and then what wou
ld happen to Lila? Another fear took root in his chest. Bursting into the anteroom for the eastern block, Jared startled the guard on duty.
The man leaped to his feet, grabbing his sword and straightening his belt. “What in the name of all that’s holy is the reason for this?”
In reply, Jared held out the wax tablet, thanking every God he could think of for the soldiers here being literate. Although the Romans took education seriously, he knew most Saxons of this time distrusted the written word. This particular warlord had taken great pains to ensure his household could read and write.
“Sire, I bring you an urgent message from Mistress Hilde.”
The guard checked the seal, ripped the threads, and opened the tablet. He scanned the lines and frowned. Glancing up at Jared, he lifted a fleshy finger and wagged it in the slave’s face. “You are to be granted admittance, but I am to watch you.”
Jared nodded, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. It wasn’t a good idea to be too eager, but he didn’t care. From here, he would go to see Lila.
“He’s a bit of a mess. Not sure you’ll get much talk out of him.” The guard chuckled as he threw open the barred door to the tiny cell.
Jesus. That was an understatement. A man hung from wrist manacles against a filthy wall, chin slumped to his chest. At the sound of the door, he stirred and lifted his head, grunting with the effort. He was a little older than Jared, his lean face a mass of cuts and bruises with both eyes swollen almost shut. The smart blue tunic was ripped and muddy, his breeches the same. Dried blood smeared everywhere. Bare feet scrabbled on the floor, and Jared noted the man had to stand on tiptoes in order to support his body weight.
The guard lurked in the doorway, leaning on his sword. Jared wouldn’t have long, but at least he could speak freely. His native tongue would be incomprehensible to the Saxons. Still, he kept his voice low, as a precaution.
“He’ll only let me have a minute with you. I am Jared Grohl. Are you here with Lila Cammell?”
The man opened his mouth a little way and spat out some blood then ran his tongue across split lips. “Lieutenant Marc Gallagher, third order of ghardians. Where have they taken Lila?”
“She’s locked in the cellar. I’ve been given permission to take a message to her. They’re planning to challenge you—whatever that means—when the warlord returns. Something to do with the midsummer rites.”
Marc grunted again, shifting in his manacles as though trying to get comfortable. “Any idea how long?”
“A couple of days at most. Do you have backup on its way?”
“No.” He coughed and spat some more blood. “The comm unit failed, and we have to wait for pickup. Are you any good with circuits? It’s hidden in the heel of my boot, if you can find it.”
Jared cast his eyes around the room. No boots visible. “Any weaponry?”
“A stunner, disguised as a piece of jewelery. It’s attached to a silver armband on my left arm.” He shook the arm and flexed his fingers.
Jared pretended to stretch and looked at the guard, who watched them, a cool smile on his face. There was no chance of removing the armband right now. “He’s too close. I’ll have to try and come back.”
“Lila knows the coordinates for the jump home. If I can’t get out of here, can I trust you to get her there?”
“Enough.” The guard slammed his iron-clad fist against the door. “You’ve had enough time.”
“Yes.” Jared spoke clearly, raising his voice as the guard grabbed his arm to haul him out of the cell. “I won’t let you down.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lila
I found a semi-comfortable position and leaned against the wall, and then waited. It didn’t seem a long time before I heard footsteps approaching and the door bolt scraped open. I was ready for the change in light this time and squinted until I could see better. A fully armored guard stood in the open doorway, his shining breastplate gleaming in the reflected light, and then another figure approached. I shrank back. Another slave. Oh God, Jared.
My heart skittered, and my emotions battled with each other, my thoughts running wild. Did I have to pretend I didn’t know him? He was alone this time, apart from the guard, so could we speak freely? Could I tell him how I felt?
One question was answered when he dropped to his knees before me and closed his shaking hands over my own. “He won’t understand us, but I can only stay a few minutes,” he whispered in our native tongue, and my eyes filled with sudden tears. “Lila,” he breathed, and I caught a glimpse of his sweet smile in the semi-darkness. “I can’t… It’s–it’s really you.”
The long separation faded; it was as though I’d seen him the day before. This new Jared, achingly thin yet stronger in a way I couldn’t define. His lovely thick hair was now cropped close to his head, and I wondered how it would feel if I ran my hands across it. My cheeks warmed at the thought. I’d never touched his hair before, but maybe I should have. Maybe I should have told him how I felt instead of hiding behind the discipline and protocols of society. What if I never had the chance again? I tried to order my random thoughts.
“Did they hurt you? Please tell me you are unhurt.” His anxious whisper grabbed my attention and steered my focus back to the ugly cellar. He ran calloused hands up my forearms, warm and gentle in his movements, as though reassuring himself I was still whole. Almost whole. He would have no idea about my artificial limb, but that was not important at the moment.
“No, they just tied me up.” A thought struck me. “Can you loosen the rope?”
“I can try.”
I had no idea what to say to him. All the things I’d rehearsed in my head, the fiery accusations, the cold statements of justice and revenge…all gone. I wanted to lean forward and rest against him, to feel his arms around me. I wanted my old Jared back.
His fingers tugged at the knot for a second then he paused and moved his head closer, to rest his forehead against mine. The intimacy sent a jolt through me, heating my blood and sending my pulse wild. “Listen to me,” he whispered against my cheek, his breath a warm puff against my bruised skin. “I’m going to get you out of here.” I opened my mouth to speak, but he carried on, his voice fierce and urgent, though quiet. “I’ve seen your ghardian. He’s locked up on the other side of the hall. They’re going to make him face some challenge at the solstice, so maybe there’s a chance then to free him.”
“What do you mean, a challenge?”
He struggled with the knot, and I felt it loosen a fraction. “The warlord’s mother said he was to be used for a Blót. That’s a challenge, isn’t it?”
The name cut a fresh shard of fear through me. “A Blót? Are you sure that’s what she said?”
His fingers stilled. “Yes, I’m sure. Something to do with the festivities.”
“Jared, a Blót is something I’ve only read about. We never thought they performed those here, in this timeframe.” I wasn’t sure I could say the words. “It’s a blood sacrifice.” I began to tremble, shudders running down me from head to toe. “Oh God, Jared, they’re going to sacrifice him. We have to stop them.”
Footsteps approached, and Jared pulled back, his hands dropping to his sides, his eyes flashing a warning.
“Time to go, slave.”
“Lila, I will get you both free, but you have to trust me.” He sucked in his breath when the guard yanked him to his feet, hauling on the iron collar as though he was a badly behaved dog. I watched, helpless and numb, while he was escorted from the cellar and the light was abruptly extinguished.
I huddled against the wall and tried to control my breathing, to slow my racing heart. Closing my eyes, I retreated into my imagination. I pictured myself in a sun-washed library, sorting through archive material, Jared by my side. He’d pass me a datapad and our fingers would brush. He’d smile, suggest I look at something, and we’d stand together as we examined it.
There’d been so many hours spent like this. Quiet, safe, and utterly familiar. From our firs
t shared assignment in early school, to our last disastrous jump, he’d been the best part of my life.
But how well did I really know him?
His parting words rang in my head. Trust me. Last time I trusted him, I nearly died. God help me, please let things be different this time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jared
Jared sucked in a deep breath before entering Mistress Rowena’s quarters. Other slaves busied themselves in the outer room with an unexpected level of activity. Perhaps she’d be too busy to need him at the moment? He ducked to the side as two young women carried out a stack of rugs and then he stepped carefully out of the way of another carrying a bucket of water. Rowena appeared in the doorway of her bedchamber, her lips compressed to a tight line.
“I said fresh petals for the floor, not these dried husks.” Her screech must have been audible in the courtyard. She bent down, scooped a handful, and threw them in the face of the slave next to Jared. “And flowers. I need flowers in here. Enough to cover the stink of his breath.”
Her eyes flashed to Jared, and his heart sank at the knowing smirk on her face. “Wolf. You took your time. In here. Now.” Another two slaves were piling fresh blankets onto the bed, and Rowena chased them out, clapping her hands, before closing the door. “My husband is due back tonight, a day early, along with a party of visitors for the solstice celebrations.” She glided to him and gripped his chin, twisting it up so that he met her eyes. “I want my newly appointed body slave to give me a massage.”
“Mistress,” he murmured. Calling her an evil bitch would not be helpful, even if it would be satisfying. While Rowena stripped and lay down, he selected a mixture of perfumed oils from those on her shelf and bought himself another minute as he pretended to deliberate over them. His mind buzzed. The warlord would be here tonight. Jared wouldn’t be needed by Rowena. There would be more opportunity to move around with all the strangers here. This would be his best chance to free Lila and Marc.