“Love?” He grimaced. “What do you want? A lie to convince you to stay?”
Cheeks flaming, she knotted her hands around the coverlet. “I can handle the truth.” Blood pounded in her ears. What was the truth?
“Very well. The truth is, I don’t even know what love is anymore.”
So, he’d only insisted on this stay married business to enjoy the pleasure of berating her? Balling the coverlet, she hurled it to the bottom of the bed. “Then sign the stulte papers now! Bring the twins to me and be done with it.”
Aquilus started to say something.
She held her hand up. “If it’s the twins you’re worried about, I’ll let you see them whenever you’re in Britannia.”
His eyes widened. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“So?”
He shook his head.
She jumped up, the wind from the ajar door blowing her dress around her legs. “Why, by Pollux, Castor, Jove, and every other imbecilic idol whose name I can use in vain, not? For months it’s been ‘no’ this, ‘no’ that, ‘be my wife,’ ‘these are my children,’ even though you almost sold them to Cassius. Why do you care when you know I hate this marriage, and half the time I hate you, too?”
Aquilus’ armor clanked. He rested his hand on his sword pommel, feet spread. “Because I refuse to break my promise.”
“What imbecilic promise is this?”
“Marital vows. I won’t belie my word.”
“How angelic.” Ness slammed her fist into the wood of the shelf bed. He didn’t even love her yet still he exuded self-righteousness. “You’re keeping your marriage promise to me? May I rot in bilge water first. Behold, Tribune, you don’t have to break your word. I release you.”
Feet spread, he rested his hand on his sword pommel. “No.”
“I left you. I tried to get a divorce. I engaged myself to another man. When you forced me back, I ruined your business affairs and humiliated you in front of your political alliances. What more does it take to get a man like you to sign a divorce paper?” She felt her face rivaling his cloak in color.
Aquilus said nothing.
She snapped her fingers. “I’m waiting.”
His dark-eyed gaze pierced her as he stood, hand still on his sword pommel. “Yes, you infuriated me. You’re good at that. But I made a choice before Christus and these witnesses until death. To break it is sin.”
Her mouth closed, and then opened, and then closed again. A log in the fire broke, sending up a burst of flames. “Do you really believe that?”
A grunt escaped his mouth. “I wouldn’t be here today unless I did.”
“So, you would have happily let me die with those Germanians if it were not for your promise? Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a deranged person with a swelled head and no heart?”
“You never understand.”
She met Aquilus’ irritated gaze head on.
Without warning, he jerked back. “You mean Britains?”
“I’m a Celt. I think I know the difference between a Germanian and a Britain.” She puckered her brow. “Though a Roman with some sort of tree on his signet ring led them.”
“A Roman? What did the signet ring look like?”
“Cyprus tree I think, some sort of exotic foliage anyway.”
Aquilus startled. “Spindly man with ink stains on his hands?”
Ness nodded.
“That’s Lucius’ secretary.” Aquilus rubbed his sword pommel. “But why would he kidnap you?”
“Lucius?”
Aquilus scratched his finger against the metal pommel. “Lucius is an acclaimed military hero. What would his motive be?”
Ness shrugged. “Did you capture the Germanians? You could question them.”
“Yes, all seven,” Aquilus said, eyes far-off. He jumped. “But not the Roman.” He sprinted toward the doorway.
At the entranceway, he turned back. “I’m going to town to make sure the twins are safe. I’ll return in two days.”
“Wait! I’m coming.”
Aquilus looked unimpressed. “You’re ill and with child.”
Shoving her feet in her boots, Ness seized her cloak. “I’m not waiting here to get news that my children were kidnapped.”
The door flew open. Enni burst in. “Wryn and Eric kidnapped?”
Aquilus scowled and pointed at Ness. “Tell her it’s not safe to travel.”
Enni gasped. “You’re thinking of traveling?”
With a yank, Ness got her bootlaces tied. “My children are in danger.”
Enni roved her gaze from Ness’ iron-willed face to Aquilus’ stubborn one. “Telling her things is pointless, Tribune.”
Aquilus sighed. “I’ll get horses.”
Hand on the doorway, Ness turned back. “Enni, tell Isobel,” she ran her tongue over dry lips. “I don’t know, but be kind to her, please? She’s just a child really.”
Enni sighed. “Very well, I’ll fix her problems. But you have to fix your own.”
A grimace stretched Ness’ cheeks. Then Aquilus reappeared, holding the reins to two steeds.
Exiting the house, she moved to a brown beast that pawed the snow-covered ground with his front leg. She grabbed the saddle and strained to loft herself. Failure. The babe inside her groaned.
Both hands on the saddle, Ness tried again. Cold-weakened knees gave little boost. She half-turned.
Aquilus leaned back against his own steed. “Going to ask for help?”
Ness impaled her boot in the snow as she eyed him unhappily.
“Or you can just stay here. That’s what I suggested anyway.”
Scowling, she looked down to the bulge at her waist. Seeing as it was Aquilus’ fault she couldn’t ascend the height, he shouldn’t make her ask. Obviously, he had no intention of seeing it that way. “May it please you.”
Aquilus brought his arms around her from behind, supporting her weight. Hands under her legs, he lifted her to where she could mount. He let his hand linger one moment more, fingers grazing the curve of the babe.
As the horses’ hooves pounded along icy roads, Aquilus watched Ness. So, she really was obtuse enough to think Roman divorce law granted her the children. She meant to steal his sons and grant him a few brief visits as a favor. That definitely wasn’t happening.
Yet, Ness had looked so weary lying there in the native house. Her weather-abused body showed off the roundness of her stomach where she carried his child, and he hadn’t had the heart to tell her the law.
Aquilus’ horse drew abreast to Ness’ and then inched past. She dug her heels into the mount. As she did, her chest wracked in a cough.
She was selfish and unthinking and valued her own interest more than anyone else’s welfare: more than dying troops in Germania, more than Roman statesmen, more than her own sons, who should have a father, and definitely more than himself. Except now that wasn’t how she looked.
They weren’t even cantering. The horses couldn’t keep that fast a pace all day. They hadn’t ridden enough hours for the hard saddles to jar bones. Yet, Ness crouched over the horse, face screwed up as she pulled her cloak tighter. Her lips moved in prayer.
How by Jupiter had that uneducated barbarian mustered the self-restraint to turn Ness down twice? Men who led armies and Stoic philosophers would lose all sight of practicality and marry that woman in moments if only she asked. Or at least he imagined they would, for one smile from her and Zeno’s best treatise lost all appeal.
Ahead, a hole furrowed the road. Her horse jumped. Pain flashed across her face.
Aquilus winced and focused on the road ahead. No time to slow the pace now, not until after he knew Eric and Wryn were safe.
“Aquilus?”
He turned.
“How many Celts did you say you captured?”
“Seven.”
Ness parted her lips. “I counted nine at the fires that night.”
Squeezing the reins, he dug his feet into his horse.
Eve
ning fell as darkness settled over Camulodunum. The wind whipped back Ness’ cloak. A pace ahead of her, Aquilus urged his horse on through the grime-covered streets.
She dug her feet into her horse’s side, but Aquilus reached the house first. Leaping down, he shoved the shadow-covered door. It swung open against his weight, the latch broken.
A shattered stool lay piecemeal in the entranceway. The yew couch and a towering shelf stretched across the main area’s door as if to barricade it.
“Cornelia!” Aquilus shouted.
No answer. Ness broke into a run.
Barging forward, Aquilus threw the shelf aside. Scrolls flew in every direction. The couch followed. He plunged into the room.
“Ness,” a voice said from the darkness to the right.
Grabbing for her leg sheath, Ness spun.
Cornelia held up a clay lamp. The oil lamp cast a glow of light. “Salve. You took your time getting back.”
Ness gasped. “The boys?”
Scrubbing one finger under her nose, Cornelia yawned. “In bed, as you always insist this time of night. Which is ridiculous, by the way, but I had a premonition you’d be coming.”
The sound of something breaking came from the room behind them. Aquilus emerged. “Who subdued the two unconscious Celts in there?”
Cornelia twisted her lips into a smile. She twirled a gray hair around her finger. “They really shouldn’t have discharged me from that pirate ship.”
Ness’ jaw sagged. “I take it all back. You are far and away the best nurse I’ve ever met.”
Through the darkness, behind Cornelia, one curly head appeared, then two. Ness rushed toward them. Kneeling, she swept the twins into an embrace. Eric clung to her, tears blubbering up from his eyes as he burrowed his sleepy head into her. Wryn wriggled free of Ness’ grasp and, bare feet slapping tile, ran toward Aquilus.
“Dada, Dada, look.” Wryn held up a clenched fist. Ness frowned as the heat of a guilty feeling slithered under her dress. If Aquilus wished to see his sons, he could stay in Britain after the divorce. If Wryn never saw his father again, Aquilus bore the blame, not her. Besides, Aquilus had tried to sell them and he left too often for Germania to see much of Wryn or Eric even when they remained married.
The hot feeling turned into a sticky feeling as she began to sweat.
Aquilus crouched to one knee. Wryn opened his hand. A greasy chicken bone lay in his small fingers. “Corn-y took it, but I saves it for game.”
Cornelia went red. “I told that child no greasy bones in his bed chamber. It’s revolting.”
Now the woman realized this?
Shushing her, Ness scooped Eric up and glared at Aquilus herself. “What are you going to do to ensure Eric and Wryn remain safe?” She motioned toward the trussed Celts, shattered stools used as weapons, and the scrolls rolling about the floor.
Aquilus moved his gaze up from Wryn. “I’m finding out if Lucius is responsible.”
“What about your precious Germanian plan? If you accuse Lucius, he won’t support it.” The banked fire made a red glow between them.
Aquilus rose. “No one hurts my wife. No one hurts my child. Whoever did this will discover that.”
“Dada, play game.” Wryn tugged at Aquilus’ tunic.
Aquilus bent his gaze to the boy. “Soon,” he said and headed for the door.
Eric slithered out of her arms as Ness looked at Aquilus. “Where are you going?”
“To the barracks to consign the two Cornelia caught. Then I’m sending men to arrest the secretary. After that, I’ll take garrison troops and pay Lucius a visit.” Aquilus paused. His left hand clenched the doorframe while the other gripped his sword. “First, though, I’m setting guards on this house with instructions that no one walks out this door alone.”
“You don’t have to be despotic about it,” she called after his back.
He disappeared and the door blew in the wind, leaving only darkness just like so many other times she watched him leave. One of these times soon would be the last time and she’d never see him again.
A sick feeling washed over her.
Chapter 27
Aquilus thought of Ness as he swung over the ship’s rail to the Germanian earth. He thought of her as he slapped the money in the hostler’s hand for the loan of garrison horses. Scarcely noting the soldiers he’d brought, he thought of her as horse hooves pounded against Roman roads.
He’d quit, that’s what he’d done. Given the marriage his best effort and then, when that failed, quit. Oh, he’d been faithful, loyal, provided for her, tried to protect her. Those were tired minimums. Fulfilling the minimum, that wasn’t how he made tribune before nineteen, or how he crafted his Germanian plan.
The wind hit Aquilus’ face. She’d wronged him, but his arms exhibited a scar or two from barbarian long swords and he’d not abandoned his tribune post.
He pictured the way the lines wracked Ness’ face as she dug her heels into that horse and urged it toward their sons. She’d been in pain. Oh, she’d tried to paint it as anger, but it was pain.
She had loved him once, right? Been happy with him, not filled with pain. Aquilus sighed and glanced toward the cedar trees at the side of the road. He didn’t know the answer to that question.
She would rage when he told her the Roman law. He twisted his fingers around the reins as he posted with the trot. Telling a woman she could either stay with one or lose her children was scarcely the way to endear oneself to the fairer sex. He grimaced.
What other choices did he have? Let her leave with Eric and Wryn? He pictured Wryn holding up the slimy chicken bone. What kind of father left that?
What he truly wanted wasn’t just their sons, but her too. What had Cedric done that made Ness love him? He could do it. He could make her happy if she’d only give him a chance. If, Aquilus rubbed his hand across the horse’s neck, that was a colossal “if.”
The horses kept up a steady clomp as the mile markers passed, closing the distance to the governor’s palace. Ness might hate him, but when he told her the law she’d stay and he could deal with Lucius’ secretary, and possibly Lucius too, make things safe for his family.
He’d misjudged her when he thought she’d give up her own children for a divorce. No, the only child giving up had occurred with himself and Cassius. Aquilus pictured Wryn alone yesterday night in the candlelight, without Eric. He shuddered.
No, he wouldn’t agree to abandon his own flesh again. He’d hold Ness to the law and keep his sons.
The Germanian governor’s palace loomed ahead. Inside the gateway, a legionary stopped Aquilus’ party. “Your business, sir?”
“To see the governor.” Aquilus swung off his horse.
“If you will wait here.”
Wait? He’d done more than enough waiting these last months. Aquilus pushed past the soldiers and strode through hallways. Lucius’ door gave way to Aquilus’ shove. The governor sprawled at the table, jabbing at an oversized beetle with his sword.
Aquilus rested his hand on the doorframe. “Either your secretary’s a villain and you’re a dolt for hiring him, or you’ve been trying to kill me.”
Lucius startled to an upright position, dumping amber across the floor.
As Aquilus glanced at open chests of amber strewn across the room, the trader’s words from a year ago came back to him. The amber trade was suffering. Who better to affect that then the governor of Germania?
Aquilus cocked his head. “You’ve been cheating on trade.”
Lucius shrugged.
“Did you send your secretary to kill me?”
Lucius didn’t bother to look surprised at the accusation.
Crossing the distance, Aquilus slammed his hands down on Lucius’ table. “What kind of soldier are you? Trying to kill me, that’s just breaking the law, but my wife, my children?”
“Your wife? Hasn’t that woman left you yet?”
Aquilus slammed his fist against Lucius’ face.
For one moment
, Lucius froze. Then he lunged over the table between them and shoved at Aquilus.
Aquilus brought his arms up, slamming the man in the face.
Blood gushed from Lucius’ nose as he grabbed an amber box and hurled it at Aquilus’ head. “You just passed the point of extinction for self-interest. Now I actually want you dead.” Seizing his sword, Lucius swung.
Aquilus sidestepped and went for Lucius’ open left side. “I’ll have you tried and hung for what you did.”
Lucius angled his sword around, working strong but not particularly disciplined muscles. He felt for a scroll on the table. “What about this? Do you want Emperor Domitian to know a Paterculi surrendered to the Hebrew god?”
Aquilus twisted his sword, focusing on Lucius’ down slice.
“You can’t deny it, you know. It has your seal and here—” Sword still raised, Lucius stepped back to a shelf behind him and rifled through the scroll with a dirty thumb.
Successful, Lucius dangled the parchment like a banner. “Here, you underlined the word Christus and wrote in the margin ‘reference aphrodisiac.’”
Sword still up, Aquilus caught a glimpse of brown sticking out from behind the shelf. Lucius’ secretary cautiously stuck his head out. “He wrote ‘reference Ephesians’ and the scroll writer has beautiful handwriting. Please don’t tear it.”
Aquilus went for the man who had kidnapped Ness.
Lucius stepped in front of the secretary and hurled an amber stone at Aquilus. “Anyway, you can’t hide your religion anymore.”
The flat of Aquilus’ sword blade blocked the rock. “I have no desire to hide it. Christus is the only truth there is.”
Letting the scroll drop, Lucius shoved the secretary’s shelf toward Aquilus. In the clattering shatter, a Germanian decurion accompanied by legionaries appeared. He looked to Lucius. “Is everything all right, sir?”
Aquilus glared at Lucius. “Would you like to explain to these soldiers why you held a tribune’s wife and children hostage, or should I?”
For Life or Until (Love and Warfare Series Book 1) Page 34