by London Casey
A bulky soldier stalked up the path, with several of the group from the gate behind him. Elizabeth’s heart skipped as she recognized him, and confirmed her suspicion. Villius.
“You are certain, baker, that this is the man you saw. That he used this,” Villius whipped out a knife, blood staining the four inch blade. A familiar knife. “To kill one of my men?”
God—no—
Kane searched his backpack, and she prayed that he would find his knife safe in its scabbard. Her breath lodged in her throat when he found the scabbard. The empty scabbard.
Villius watched him like a predator—and lunged forward just as Kane made his discovery. They both hit the stone paved path, Kane on his injured shoulder. Before he could recover Villius slammed his fist into Kane’s right cheek. His other hand raised the knife, aiming for Kane’s chest.
“No!” Elizabeth darted forward. Another figure shot past her and rammed his shoulder into Villius’ left side. They flew over Kane and landed on the hard packed dirt. “Quintus—”
Iron hands caught her upper arms, holding her in place. She didn’t need to look behind her to know another soldier had her in his grip. The heavy callouses on his palms gave him away.
Quintus hauled Villius up. “He won’t be judged like this. Not without proof that he is the murderer.”
“We have a witness! The murder weapon!” Villius flung the knife. It impaled the ground between Quintus’ sandaled feet. To his credit, Quintus didn’t even flinch. Villius looked both furious and embarrassed.
“And three other victims, killed the same way,” Quintus said, his voice quiet. “Killed inside the walls. The first two murders occurred days before Kane arrived.”
“He could have snuck into the fort, done the deed while we slept.”
Quintus crossed his arms. “Are you saying he got in past your guard?”
“I am—” Villius sputtered. “You twist my words, Quintus. Kissing a cripple’s ass has made you weak.” Elizabeth gasped at the crude words—and fought her captor when Villius grabbed the front of Kane’s sweater and jerked him to his feet. Anger flashed in Kane’s clear grey eyes, but he held still, like he knew any sudden movement would set Villius off. “This is a flesh and blood suspect. I’m arresting him, before you let him walk free. Then we will see who’s in the right.”
“Marius won’t take it to trial without proof, or a credible witness.”
“I have both!”
“A bloody knife, which could have been taken from Kane’s belongings while he slept, and a man who is drunk more often than he is sober. A man who took most of a day to even step forward and report the murder. Are these your offerings?”
Villius looked like he was ready to explode. “You take the side of a stranger over your own man?”
“When there is no substantial evidence, yes. If you want to complain about my tactics, you can do it in Rome. Now let him go.”
Villius stared at him, fury mottling his face. “You won’t do it, I’ll serve my own justice.”
He slipped one hand behind him. Sun flashed off steel—and she saw the dagger just before he drove it down.
“Kane!”
An arrow bit into Villius’ right bicep. He let out a howl and stumbled backward, dropping the dagger to clutch at the narrow shaft. Elizabeth looked in the direction the arrow came from—and spotted Marius in the middle of the now empty street, holding a bow already nocked with a second arrow. A handful of arrows and his crutch were at his feet. His deep voice boomed over the chaos of voices.
“Stay where you are, Villius, or the next one finds your heart.”
Villius obeyed. Blood seeped through the fingers pressed against his arm.
With a grace she didn’t expect, Marius slung the bow over his shoulder and picked up the crutch. Every soldier moved to clear a path for him.
“Captain—”
“Quintus, take this fool out of my sight before I shoot him, again.” Marius gripped Kane’s left arm. “Forgive the poor manners of my men.” He shot a glare at the soldier holding Elizabeth, who promptly let her go.
She limped over to Kane. “Are you okay?”
A forced smile almost hid the pain in his eyes. He cradled his right arm, and his right cheek was already bruising. She remembered him telling her that the scar tissue still hurt. And Villius had plowed his fist right into it. “I’ve been better, love. Thank you, Marius.”
“You may want to hold that thanks.” He raised his voice, glancing at the soldiers who surrounded them. “Roman law states that a man is innocent until proven guilty. Even here, where some men are less than animals, that law will stand, as long as I am commander. This man, stranger or not, will not be brought to trial unless, and until, I see evidence that proves to me he is the killer we seek.”
Villius bellowed, and shoved his way through the soldiers, stomping to the gate. Marius let out a sigh when Appia appeared from the side of the inn, glaring at Villius before she approached them.
“Did you decide to take our afternoon walk without me?”
Marius and Kane flinched at her tone.
“Appia—”
“Lower your arm, Kane.” He obeyed, and she ran one hand over his shoulder, watching his face. His clenched jaw gave away the pain at her examination. “Exactly how much did I miss? Never mind. They are coming home with us, Marius.”
“Yes, they are. But Kane will be coming home with me, Appia.” He nodded at Quintus, who moved forward and took Kane’s left arm. “I am afraid I have to detain you, until this is sorted.”
Elizabeth stepped in front of Marius. “Is that a fancy way of saying he’s under arrest?”
Marius turned to her. “He will not be allowed to leave until questions have been answered. Elizabeth.” He laid one hand on her shoulder. “I will not arrest him, unless the evidence leads to him. But he will have to stay out of Villius’ way, which means I am confining him to my home.”
“So, house arrest.”
He raised his eyebrows. “A compromise my men will accept. For now.” She swallowed, remembering exactly where they were—in a Roman occupied country, where Roman law prevailed. “Now, I want to see the victim. Without you, Appia, so do not ask.”
Marius followed one of the soldiers to the end of the wall, and out of sight. Elizabeth limped over to Kane, and brushed hair off his forehead. Quintus moved away, to give them privacy, but close enough to grab if Kane decided to run. She didn’t find that comforting. “How did your knife end up in a murder victim?”
“The answer to your question will prove my innocence.” He didn’t look all that hopeful.
“Kane.” Elizabeth snapped his name out. He stared down at her, obviously surprised. “Don’t you dare give up before the fight even starts.” She moved in, so only he could hear her next words. “Marius believes you, and so do I. We’ll find the real killer—”
“You will not involve yourself.” His left hand caught her arm. “Do you understand me? We are in an enemy camp—”
“They can be allies. I want them to be.” She glanced down at his right hand. It hung limp, twitching against his thigh. Villius had hurt him more than he let on.
“And our interference could change history.”
“Will you dying here be sufficient for your conscience?” He closed his eyes. “Don’t hide from me, Jackson Kane. I know I spouted all the holier than thou talk when we were in your time. But I’ve been thinking about this. What if we’re meant to help the people we meet? Not change events, but small things. Like you helping Robin and Lindsay.” He looked down at her. “You saved him without thinking twice. Would you do it any differently now?”
He swallowed, shook his head. “Beth, my job with TimeSearch was to stop precisely this type of interaction. But then, I always had the option of leaving.”
“And we don’t. That changes rules, Kane. Changes how we have to approach this. What if we never find our way back? We need to think about that, even if you don’t want to.”
Wit
h a sigh, he kissed her forehead, and stepped away from her.
Two burly soldiers brushed past; Kane must have seen them coming. At Quintus’ direction, they moved to either side of Kane, grabbed an arm, and marched him to the gate. He didn’t look back, and that scared her.
Marius returned, temper in the jade green eyes. None of it was directed at Elizabeth as he spoke to her. “You will stay with Appia until decisions are made. I am going to tell you this now, so you are not alarmed. Kane will be confined to my empty slave’s room, and if I find it necessary, he will be chained.”
“And what do you consider necessary?” Anger leaked into her voice.
Marius smiled. “I want to defy all convention and escort both of you into the fort. There is nothing I enjoy more than time spent with a fiery woman. Two—that would be an adventure. But until I work up the courage for that, you will stay with Appia.”
He held his ground as Appia stalked over to him. “So, it takes murder and the arrest of a stranger for you to even entertain the thought of inviting me into the hallowed ground?”
He studied her, his eyes sober. “I would take you there, keep you there, every moment, if I were able. You have to know this, my love.”
She let out a sigh, and slipped her hand into his. “I do. I need you to remind me now and then. Elizabeth will have visiting rights?”
Her heart skipped. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Marius retrieved his arrows before he answered. “Something may possibly be arranged, but I have to think of my men first. If I allow special treatment for a suspected killer, they may turn on the one person they can reach.”
Elizabeth swallowed, feeling more helpless than she had in London.
Because of a faulty transport, they had been dropped right into the middle of a nightmare.
Quintus halted, put up his hand to stop the soldiers escorting Kane.
Villius waited for them outside Marius’ home. The man refused to let go.
He stepped forward and pointed at Kane. “Enjoy your last breaths of freedom. I’ll see you condemned, and use my own scourge to flog you until you take that last breath.”
“Prove me guilty, Villius, and I will deserve nothing less. Since I am innocent of these murders, I’m afraid your vengeance will go unsatisfied.”
Quintus stopped Villius before he could get close enough to hit. It didn’t stop him from shouting.
“You may fool the others with your noble manners and silver tongue, but we both know what you really are.” Kane kept himself perfectly still. Villius could not possibly know the truth, of who they were, or how they had arrived. If he did, he would have already called both Kane and Elizabeth out as witches. Or worse. “A cold blooded killer. I will prove it, and watch you die for it.”
With a final glare, he stalked out of sight.
Quintus cleared his throat. “I am sorry for his disrespect. He is grieving—”
“I don’t blame him, Quintus. I know I look guilty, even if it is all circumstantial.”
Quintus waved off the soldiers holding him, and took his left arm. “Welcome to the commander’s praetorium. Your new accommodations will not be luxurious, but they are clean, and larger than the average cell in Tullianum.”
“That would be in Rome?”
Quintus nodded, leading him up the stairs just outside the entrance hall, past the luxurious rooms around the courtyard, to a simple rectangular room at the back of the praetorium. It had several small, raised pallets, a wash bowl on a long, low bench, and pegs to hold extra clothing. Kane had stayed in smaller, and much less inviting.
It looked like a normal, if sparsely furnished bedroom; except for the pile of chain in the corner, one end of it attached to the wall. That had never been a decorator item, even in the worst room.
“I will have to use that chain, if the captain orders it. But only if he orders it. As much as I want the killer caught, and dead, I won’t go after an innocent man to seek my vengeance.”
“Unlike Villius.”
Quintus studied him before he answered. “You’re not stupid, then. Villius will kill you in your sleep, given the chance.”
“He can try.”
Kane didn’t mean to sound so—angry, but he was. At this insane situation, at dragging Elizabeth into all of this when her only crime was stepping up to save his life. He met Quintus’ appraising gaze.
“I do believe you could give Villius a hard time,” Quintus said. “For the moment, we’ll avoid that confrontation. I will have one of the house slaves bring you some food, and wash water. Make yourself as comfortable as you can—this is your home for the next while.”
Kane waited until Quintus left before he eased himself to the nearest pallet, and lowered his head. His shoulder ached from their journey through the portal, and now both attacks from Villius. He had been set up, and he had no idea who or why. The how was a simple guess; the culprit could have snuck in and taken his knife while he was caught in the dream of his past.
But that raised another question. Why him? He was not here for the other three murders—though they could be laid on him as well, if the prosecution made the argument that he had been hiding outside the fort all this time. Their cover story made it more than possible.
He lay on the narrow pallet, the hay stuffed pad thin and uncomfortable; a far cry from the feather bed he shared with Elizabeth. To make him feel even more so, his shoulder decided to give him grief by throbbing. He didn’t expect to get much in the way of sleep while he was here.
He closed his eyes, and tried anyway. If anyone wanted to kill him in his sleep, they had to make their way through the praetorium to do it.
Just as he started to drift off, a quiet voice filtered in from the doorway. “I want you to be guilty.”
Kane opened his eyes. Quintus was back, carrying the tray of food.
He sat, cradling his right arm to ease some of the weight off his shoulder. There was a different look in the soldier’s dark eyes. And Kane understood. “You knew the victims.”
“The first. He was in my cohort, and as a brother to me.” Quintus carefully set the tray on the bench holding the wash bowl—then turned around and yanked Kane to his feet. “If you are guilty, I will request the right to tie you to the whipping post and lay down every lash.”
“You’ve had time to think about it.”
Quintus stared at him. “What?”
“Once your duty to Marius was completed, you had time to think about exactly what I might have done to your friend.”
“I—” He rubbed one hand over his face, and Kane watched him struggle. “You are not what I expected.”
“What did you expect, then?”
“A mad man, frothing at the mouth.” Quintus shook his head. “I figured only a man who is crazed would have killed the soldiers who protect him and his kin.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I see now why Marius champions you. He would be drawn to your—” He cut himself off.
“My wit?”
“Your unvarnished speech.”
“Ah.” Kane knew an insult when he heard one, however sweetly worded. “He enjoys honesty, then.”
Quintus looked relieved. “In all forms. You have met Appia—her sharp tongue is the reason he loves her. His need for honesty is what landed him at the back end of the empire. He can take it too far, but I like him in spite of it.”
The gleam in his dark eyes told Kane he most likely enjoyed teasing Marius about it. As a friend would tease. Kane envied them their easy friendship. His own youth had nothing but enemies, and competition for everything in the boy’s home. There had never been enough.
Quintus broke into his dark thoughts. “I want you to be guilty, because then this would end. But I find myself liking you as well, in spite of it.”
For the first time, Kane felt something close to hope. “If I can, I’d like to help you find the real killer. I know how to track people.” Even across time. How difficult would it be in a small fort
, and an isolated settlement?
He studied Kane again for several moments before he spoke. “I will talk to the captain.” He started to leave, and paused in the doorway. “If you are innocent of these crimes, I will join him in setting you free. If you are guilty—”
“I have already met my executioner.” Quintus nodded. “Thank you for your honesty.”
A smile tugged at Quintus’ mouth. “A bad habit I picked up, from a friend. Eat now, get some rest. Your wife will be safe with Appia, and you look like you could use the sleep.”
When he left, Kane stared at the small room that might become his prison. Perhaps he wasn’t as alone in this as he thought. Elizabeth had the ear of the fort’s current commander, and she would have support, from powerful players in this rugged, violent world. He had to trust. It was the one thing he had the most trouble giving another person. But he found himself with no other options.
From this moment, his life was out of his hands.
Chapter Six
Mac forgot how painful the so-called healing machines were—especially with an already healing wound. He suffered through it because he needed to be as close to a hundred percent as he could get.
Once the damn machine let him go, he used the wall to work his way toward the far door. No more drugs, no matter what the machine wanted. All he needed was some food, a mega size glass of cold caffeine, and he’d be good to go—
Colette caught him as he slid down the wall.
“Stubborn idiot.”
Another figure knelt on his other side. He blinked them into focus. Carrie. He gave her a lopsided smile—and let out a vicious curse when she slapped the devil’s own acid on his barely healed laser burn.
“Hold him still, Colette.” Carrie leaned over him and applied another coat, before she slapped on a bandage, guaranteed to direct the fire inward. “Stop being such a baby, Mac. Give it a minute to smooth out. Burns always hurt, no matter how carefully you treat them.”
“If the damn machine had done its job—”
“You didn’t give it enough time. Stubborn man.” Carrie pressed down on his shoulders. It didn’t take much to keep him on the floor. If he had been more coherent, that fact would have scared him. Instead he felt like punching the source of his torment. “Colette, get the door. We’re about to have company. Look at me, Mac.”