For Life or Until (Love and Warfare Series Book 1)

by Anne Garboczi

  Her shoulders slumped. “I just spent an hour soothing him.”

  Cedric laughed. “I know. You wake the babe. You take care of him. Your rules.” Sweeping the child up in one arm, he grabbed the bucket with his other hand. “I’ll be back.” With that, he plunged into the darkness.

  “You trust him to disappear with your child?” Mailmura’s grating voice yanked Ness’ attention back to her.

  “He does it all the time.” She bit her tongue.

  Too late. Mailmura tsked. “Trust a man with your child one day, you’ll be having his the next.”

  Ness gaped. She snapped her jaw shut, and then let her mouth burst open again. “How could you think that?”

  “Keep the rage for my herb garden. It wasn’t a caution. Always thought the two of you were meant for each other. Much better a match than that worthless Roman.”

  “Aquilus isn’t, wasn’t worthless.” Tears stung her eyes. A year had passed with no word from Aquilus. She might not think him worthless, but he must have counted her as such. Did Bernice and all Rome rejoice that he’d finally divorced that destitute Celt?

  “Doesn’t much matter what he is or isn’t, ‘cept gone.”

  Just then, like the shadows she often melted into, Enni appeared by the firelight.

  Praise heaven for an interruption in this conversation. Ness scraped away a tear and smiled at her friend. “Enni! I haven’t seen enough of you lately.”

  Enni nodded, but she watched Mailmura.

  Tugging at her belt, Mailmura secured one of the dozens of pouches hanging there. “Anyhow, a man doesn’t light up for a babe like that if he cares nothing for the mother.”

  Enni stiffened. “Cedric?”

  Mailmura nodded. “He’s had a year to mourn his wife. Not that she was much to remember. Sweet thing, but no spirit. Used to cry when she stepped on a flower. She went out of her head the one time Cedric tried to take her chariot riding.”

  “Is there anything between Cedric and you?” Enni’s voice grew a little too pointed.

  “No.”

  Enni narrowed her eyes. “You married a Roman tribune. You know you can’t betray that kind.”

  “He divorced me.” Ness picked the ladle back up and stirred burning stew. The smoke that rose provided her face at least some protection. Mailmura ambled away.

  Tilting her head, Enni grazed her teeth again her bottom lip. “He told you that?”

  “Of course not, because he never showed up.” Her heart pounded as more tears dribbled down her cheeks. Why had she written that letter? Being with child must have sparked a madness to make her think he’d follow her to Britain. Roman pride wouldn’t tolerate that sort of insult.

  No, this was his fault. He’d had a year and he hadn’t even summoned heart enough to come see his own flesh. No, she bore blame too. She’d accused him of things and wrote that haughty letter.

  Pressing her lips together, Ness tried to swallow down the choking lump within. Didn’t matter who bore the blame. Their marriage had ended and she had better things to do than waste time on regrets. If only the stew smoked more and Enni couldn’t see her face.

  “You can’t move on before you talk to him.” Enni laid her hand on top of the soup ladle.

  “How’s that supposed to happen? I have no money for ship fare or a letter. A year’s passed. If he’d wanted to stay married, he’d have shown up by now.” Ness yanked the spoon away from Enni. If only Enni’s thoughts had merits and Aquilus did still care. Instead, each of Enni’s words stabbed through her like a knife. Wryn had learned to say ‘dada’ tonight and he’d never even have a father.

  “Before you and Cedric make any serious plans, you must talk to the tribune,” Enni said. Marki approached from the right to stand by Enni.

  “Serious? You needn’t worry. Cedric’s never had serious intentions toward me in his life.” She jerked the ladle through the stew as her voice grew too loud.

  Cedric entered the clearing, bucket and Wryn in hand. Ness bit her lip as her palms sweated. Had he heard her?

  Who cared? She’d spoken truth. She tried to squelch the churning in her stomach.

  The sound of dancing music started from somewhere behind her. Marki slipped his arm around Enni’s waist. She looked at Ness.

  “Go dance.” Ness waved them away and they ran toward the fires like two carefree lovers. She watched them go. She had tasted that once, much too small a taste, just a few months, really, before Rome had come and Aquilus had lost interest in her.

  The sleeve of Cedric’s jerkin brushed her arm. Lifting the bucket high, he poured the liquid into the soup. Steam rose from the cauldron.

  Before the mist had dissipated, a boy of maybe ten ran up to the fire. “Stew, please. And one for Gavin too.”

  “Don’t give that lad any.” Cedric play-boxed the child and the boy jabbed back with a right that landed in Cedric’s arm.

  Ness laughed as she ladled out two bowls. “Upset about losing the chariot race?”

  Cedric scowled. “Nothing my pride won’t get over soon enough.”

  “You’re the better charioteer. Gavin’s horses were just exercised more.” Ness passed the boy the bowls and he scampered off.

  Cedric dropped the bucket and it bounced against the ground. “I know, which is annoying.”

  A laugh rose from inside her as Ness stirred water into the stew. “You make choices, you get to live with them, eh?”

  With reluctance, Cedric smiled. “Come the spring festival, I’m winning the race.”

  “I intend to hold you to that.” She looked at her sleeping babies. Wryn had rolled over and lay back to back with his brother now. In sleep, their hands touched.

  Cedric lowered his voice. “I heard you talking to Enni.”

  Lovely. Ness shrugged. “There have always been rumors about us. It’s not your fault.”

  “Always?”

  “You missed the entire village’s gossip the fall I turned seventeen?”

  “Oh, you mean before the chariot race when you used walnut stain to make handprints on my best stallion?” Cedric kicked at the bronze bucket and his boot made a clanging sound against metal.

  “No.” She drew her arms in. “After you, when you were supposed to be harvesting your father’s fields, cut a swath in our field in the shape of a Celtic love knot. We could have prosecuted you for stealing.”

  He turned red around the ears. “It was just a child’s antic, and I returned the corn.”

  “Some antic.”

  “I hope I didn’t give you the impression these last few months that I—”

  That he meant anything by his constant teasing? Of course not. No, she’d grown much too wise to fall for him again. Only, asking for a kiss by the waterfall, in truth? Had he no idea how a woman might interpret that? “We don’t have to talk about this.” Leaning down, she grabbed a bread bowl and doled soup in it. “Here, eat.” She shoved it at him.

  He took it, but the interruption of food disappeared all too swiftly.

  Setting aside the half-eaten bread, he wiped his fingers on the grass. She could feel him watching her. She ran the spoon around the village cauldron with faster, more determined strokes.

  “You look tired.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and kept stirring.

  Stretching, he moved toward the kettle. He leaned on one of the poles that held it. “You have dark circles under your eyes.” He reached out to touch the dark spots.

  She sidestepped.

  “And look at your hands.” Catching one, Cedric flipped it, palm up. The blisters across her palm had recently dried blood in them, and bruises changed the white of her skin to black.

  She pulled her hand away and kept stirring.

  “You can’t do it all. A man’s work and a woman’s work and raise two babes.”

  If Aquilus was here, she wouldn’t have to.

  “You shouldn’t even visit that furthest corn field I plowed for you with how many legionaries are traveling so
uth from Pict country before winter. Just last week, Bretta had to pull a knife on a soldier who came upon her in a lonely field.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She had to be fine. She didn’t have a husband. Ness turned her gaze to the dancing fires. Only two years ago, she’d danced there with Aquilus.

  “What?”

  She startled. The heat of the flames blew on her face as she bit her lip.

  Cedric rested more heavily on the cauldron pole.

  At last, she opened her mouth. “Thinking about two years ago at this festival. And Aquilus.”

  “What really happened between the tribune and you?”

  Ness frowned. “Aren’t there rumors enough about it?” With the tip of her finger, she flicked a crawling insect off the cauldron.

  “People do speculate.”

  “Flatteringly?” She shifted her position, gaze on the ground.

  “When is gossip ever flattering?”

  A sigh passed through her body. As unflattering as gossip was, it couldn’t sting as much as the truth. “You can choose any speculation you like. Why do you need me to explain it?” She’d never told anyone but Enni and her parents the truth.

  “You’re right. What’s to explain?” Cedric rammed his foot against the cauldron’s pole. Stew splashed and the entire pot shivered. “He was a good-for-nothing Roman and left you.”

  Her heart pounded. Cedric sounded so angry. She drew back a step from him. “It wasn’t like that. I bear blame too.”

  “Oh, you dragged him away from his homeland then left him destitute with two children to raise and never came back? Is that how it went?” Cedric’s eyes flamed.

  “Well, no, but I….” She swallowed. Her voice shook. “I… I left first, and not on the best terms. I hinted at divorce even because I lost my temper with him.” She looked up into Cedric’s gray-green eyes. Would he despise her now that he knew the truth?

  Cedric’s face darkened as he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. He should be here.” He drew his eyebrows into an angry line. “If my son had lived, nothing would have kept me from seeing him. Your sons are nine months old.”

  Her flat voice barely rose above a whisper. “I know.”

  Chapter 11

  The wind blew Ness’ hair back as she fixed her gaze on the horse. Its fore-muscles rippled with the power of the gait Cedric rode it at, unshod hooves hardly touching the ground as the steed sped across the hillock.

  Harvest was only two weeks away and she should be in her fields and with her babes. Cedric had pushed the babes into Isobel’s hands and promised very, very faithfully to help her with the fields if she came to see his new chariot horse.

  Her eyes devoured the sight of pure power as the horse pounded the turf, sending up clouds of dust. Cedric shortened the rope at the horse’s neck and the unbroken steed reared.

  Knees pressed into the horse, he rose with the motion even as he pressured the horse right.

  The stallion broke course and circled. The thunder of its hooves shook the ground beneath her feet as the horse sped past. Faster than a breath, Cedric adjusted the rope and brought the horse around in a storming gallop.

  She laughed. He was showing off. She hadn’t grown up with him not to know that. “Enough already, I’m dizzy.”

  “Come up then,” Cedric called through the wind. As he passed her, he leaned almost sideways and extended his hand.

  She grabbed his forearm. Jumping, her feet flew from under her, body a leaf in the wind as the horse’s deadly hooves pounded the earth, but Cedric fulfilled her trust. With perfect balance, he regained his seat and swung her up in front of him as the ground flew away behind them.

  She fought to keep her body steady on the earthquake below as she pulled her other leg over the horse. Leaning forward, she felt the movement of the steed and smelled the sweat on its neck. She gripped the animal’s heaving sides with her knees.

  “All right?” Cedric asked.

  All right? The wind whipped past her face, the smell of the land rushed through her nostrils, the sunshine kissed her eyes, and she was mounted on speed, pure speed. “Magnificent.” She squeezed her bare feet into the stickiness of the horse’s sides.

  The horse increased its pace until even the wind lagged, trying to catch up. Cedric wrapped his arm around her waist as they sped away from the village, raced along the creek, and rocketed toward the waterfall. Pounding hooves surged toward the water’s hurtling cascades. Cedric leaned over her toward the horse’s ear. His body touched her back, the scratchiness of his jerkin pressing against her. She tried not to think about how much time had passed since she’d last felt a man’s arms around her like this.

  Digging his boots into the steed’s side, he clenched her tighter. The horse jumped.

  Soaring over the crashing torrent, they were one with the air. The horse’s hooves hit solid turf and her head flew back into Cedric’s chest.

  He pulled the horse to a halt. Sliding off, he stood immediately beside the steed, one arm resting on the stallion’s foam-flecked flank. He held his hand up to her.

  Sucking in a great breath of fresh morning air, she reached down for his hand. “I’m coveting your horse.”

  “Marry me and you can have the horse too.”

  Her fingers froze.

  His eyes smiled at her.

  Was it a jest? Cedric couldn’t really be asking her to marry him. Her tongue stuck to her palate. “Cedric, are you serious?”

  “No, I make a habit of accosting random women and asking them to be my wife.” He smirked.

  Her heart stopped. The waterfall pounded in her ears as the sun trickled through the leafy covering above. Marry Cedric?

  He laughed and took her stiff hand. “Was that a yes?”

  “I—”

  Placing both hands on her waist, he swung her down from the horse’s back. “You know you want to.” He smiled at her as he brushed his fingers across hers.

  “I said those words years ago, and I only meant a kiss, not marriage.” She shifted and her back rubbed against the horse’s sweaty side. Though she’d rode not run, sweat drenched her neck same as the horse’s.

  A grin flashed across his face. “If you want to kiss me first before you decide, I won’t say nay.”

  Her breath came fast. Blood pounded in her throat. “Why do you want to marry me?” It’s not as if she had anything to offer. If he married her, he’d take on two sons not his own and all her faults that had ruined her first marriage.

  “Because you never give up, and you give life everything.”

  Something caught in her chest. Tears formed in her eyes. He approved of her. Aquilus had never approved of her.

  Cedric moved closer, only a handbreadth away now. “Say yes, Nessite.”

  “I distinctly remember telling you not to call me that.” The scent of horse and grass and Britain earth surrounded her as she looked up into Cedric’s face. She ran her gaze over his teasing smile, the nose that had been broken one too many times, and the shaggy hair that fell across his forehead. As much as she’d tried to imagine excuses for why Aquilus hadn’t come this past year and why he’d still return, the stark truth was he’d abandoned her.

  “I love you and I want to help you.”

  The corners of her lips twitched up. “In other words, my plowing appalled you so much that you have to marry me to save the ground that scarring experience?”

  “That too.” He flicked the sleeve of her dress.

  Marry Cedric? It was what she’d always wanted, and she wasn’t impractical enough not to note the benefits of having a strong, well-landed husband whose fields and hunting arm would make her life about a thousand times easier. She reached up and touched his open-faced jerkin.

  She pressed her tongue against her teeth, but she’d be a fool to give any other answer. “Yes.”

  He touched her cheek. His other arm around her, he started a haunting Celtic love song.

  He was singing to her.

  She rested in his arms, the
arms she’d always longed for. It wasn’t as wondrous as she’d imagined at fifteen, but what is?

  Cedric’s voice formed the words of the song—all about love, undying love, a perfect first love that conquered all and never would wane. That was the kind of love she’d always wanted. The kind of love she’d dreamed of having with Cedric before Elena.

  “Our song, remember?” His gaze tracked her.

  Yes, that time at sixteen when they’d gotten lost hunting. They had to start a fire and wait for the next day to dawn before they found their way back. They’d heard noises beyond the firelight and feared wolves, so they’d sung at the top of their voices, song after song as the shadows turned into darkness and the moon rose.

  Then, when they’d exhausted every war song, feast day tune, and rhyme, she’d looked at him and he’d started that song. Turned his gaze on her as he sang it, and made her cheeks flame hotter than the fire.

  Instinctively, she yanked back. “That’s a lie! You haven’t loved me always. We’ll never have that kind of love.”

  Cedric halted mid-verse.

  The angry heat fled her face. She gulped, eyed him, and wished he’d contradict her.

  Cedric stood there dumbly. Then, a moment later, “Are you angry, Ness?”

  What was the point in anger? “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” He held her again.

  She looked at the man she’d just agreed to marry. He’d been there when she was overwhelmed with two new sons, helped her plow and sow even when he had no reason to, and understood when she told him the truth about what happened in Rome. Even Enni hadn’t grasped that.

  He slid his hands around her waist and crossed his arms behind her. “Kiss me now?”

  Her heart pounded as she looked into his eyes. The last kiss lingering on her lips was Aquilus’ when she’d told him that she carried his child and he touched his mouth to hers. Once she pressed her lips against Cedric’s, that kiss would disappear forever. A tear formed in her eye, but she stretched up toward Cedric.

  “Ness,” a shrill voice called. “Your babes are just like you. They never stop whining.” Angry baby screams arose as Isobel walked toward them, holding the twins. The girl looked a woman as she walked up, her green dress flapping about her ankles.