by Nadia Aidan
Aurora smiled, thinking that was because she had everything to do with Claudius’ death.
With her return to Ostia, Olympia had soon revealed the truth to Aurora.
Artemisia and Maia had been sent in together to spy on Claudius and learn as much as they could about the trade routes he used, where he obtained the children he sold, and who he sold them to. The two had been successful in gathering and reporting information on behalf of The Order, until Maia was abruptly sold by Claudius. Aurora knew what Artemisia believed to be the cause for Maia to be sold, but Aurora suspected Maia’s true purpose had been discovered by Claudius.
Artemisia had remained behind, hoping to learn of Maia’s whereabouts, and to aid Cornelia in her duty, which was to maintain peace within the province of Capena. The province was a region in which many subjects found themselves pledging loyalty to Rome, though they were not Roman. Hostility had been ever present since, and Claudius’ dealings had threatened an already fragile peace within a region suffering strained relations between the native populace and the migrating Romans.
Now that Claudius was dead, Cornelia would soon do what she’d been sent to Capena to do—gain the favor of Senator Vibius, a just and fair man loyal to the purpose of the emperor and committed to The Empire, who even as they spoke, now traveled to Rome to be appointed to his new post as the imperial governor of the province of Capena. Cornelia had done her duty in securing her place within Balbus Vibius’ life as his mistress—soon to be his wife, after the appropriate time for mourning had passed, of course.
Cornelia, Artemisia, Maia—all of The Order had done their duties, just as Aurora had done hers.
With the aid of Artemisia and Cornelia, Aurora had fulfilled the purpose of her mission.
Aurora corrected herself. It was not just Artemisia and Cornelia who she owed her gratitude, but Cyrus as well. She would not have survived it all had it not been for him.
Aurora must have looked at Cornelia expectantly, because the woman grasped Aurora’s hands in her own, and a quiet sympathy filled her eyes.
“He is alive, and I imagine he is well.” Cornelia’s brow knitted into a frown. “I told him I would not tell you this, that if he truly loved you, he would tell you himself.” Her eyes softened. “But I think you already know he loves you, it is simply that his honor is so very important to the man that he is.”
“I know,” Aurora whispered, and she did. “If he’d left me behind, I would think much less of him if he did not return to me, and I doubt I would ever be able to forgive him.”
Cornelia’s eyes flashed with laughter. “I imagine Cyrus could never leave you behind, for you would have found him, then freed him and killed us all.”
Aurora chuckled, but it was bittersweet because though she understood he had a duty to his homeland and his tribe, Cyrus had left her behind.
“I have a question for you,” Aurora said after the laughter between them died. Actually she had many, but this one had nagged her since she’d discovered the truth of Cornelia’s purpose.
“That night in the baths. You were not there to kill me, were you?”
Cornelia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Of course not. That knife was for you, to aid you. I knew Cyrus would follow me, thinking to protect you, thus forcing me to drop it into the pool before I could be ‘discovered’, but I did not imagine he would not leave with me once he knew you to be safe. It was I who returned to retrieve it, for I knew you would never be able to escape with it as long as he shadowed you.”
“And the poisoning of Claudius? That has puzzled me as well. If you could have killed him all along, why didn’t you.”
Cornelia’s shrewd eyes held hers and before she even answered, Aurora knew already what had stayed Cornelia’s hand in the matter. “Assassinating Claudius was not my duty, it was yours. Artemisia and I were to aid you only, but we were never to interfere or stand in your way. Truly, I did not know you and Cyrus bore witness to my actions until the both of you stopped Claudius from drinking.” A small grin twitched at the corners of her lips. “But there was no poison in his cup, only the mixture of vinegar and ash which you well know smokes when met with marble and eats away at the red granite of mosaic tiles. It is harmless to the body, but I do not have to tell you that either.”
Aurora understood the meaning of Cornelia’s words, but was still perplexed by her reasoning.
“Why pretend to poison Claudius then, if poisoning him was not your intention at all?”
“Because I needed to know that Balbus was loyal to me,” said Cornelia. “That he would do anything for me. That he would do anything to be with me.”
Aurora nodded in understanding. “There is just one last question which has vexed me,” Aurora said finally. “The mark upon your body. How is it that I did not notice it until the night we fled?” Of all her questions this one bothered her the most.
“Ahh, yes, the mark. You did not notice it because until that night it wasn’t there, at least not to any who gazed upon me. I could not risk others connecting us by that mark so I disguised it.” Aurora did not understand, and Cornelia must have glimpsed her confusion, because she added with a small grin. “A bit of white marl and chalk powder is all I have ever needed to mask the flaws upon my skin, including that of a certain tattoo.”
Makeup. “Clever.” It certainly eased her mind to know she had not been so distracted that she’d failed to notice the mark of The Order upon another Keeper.
A small smile found its way across Aurora’s face then as she reflected on her last assignment, so unlike all the ones before it.
Each of them—Artemisia, Cornelia, Aurora—had their duties, intertwined as they were, but still all their own. Cornelia had aided Olympia in having Aurora inserted within Claudius’ home by encouraging him to acquire a gladiatrix, then she’d done her best to keep Aurora in her husband’s favor. She’d even tried to aid her by furnishing her with a weapon.
Aurora would be forever grateful to Cornelia for what she’d done and knew no matter the differences between this woman and Olympia, that Cornelia now had Aurora’s friendship as well.
With the tension between Olympia and Cornelia, Olympia had found other duties to occupy her elsewhere while the two women talked until eventually they’d moved to Aurora’s chambers to allow Olympia to return to hers.
Cornelia and Aurora visited together until the hour grew late and Cornelia retired for the evening. Cornelia would stay for the night in the temple before returning to Capena at dawn, so Aurora wished her well before Cornelia departed for the guest quarters.
Now that she found herself alone, Aurora began preparing her pallet for the night, but stopped when Olympia knocked gently against her door.
“May I come in?”
Aurora nodded, already gleaning the reason for her late visit. It wasn’t until much later, after Cornelia’s departure, that Aurora realized she and Olympia had never finished their discussion from earlier.
“You had good news.”
“I do, but before I get to that, I know already the question you have for me and I wish to answer that as well.”
The strained disquiet between Cornelia and Olympia had been so thick and heavy it had appeared almost visible, hovering around them like a dawning fog.
“Cornelia comes from a distinguished and honored maternal line within The Order. And one day I am certain she shall find herself among the Covenant, for which she is well deserving. Cornelia has had many successes, and she is as determined and loyal as any Keeper.”
“But?” Aurora asked, when Olympia did not rush to finish.
“But her mind is of the old ways. She would have every woman in The Order dedicated to its purpose and nothing else.”
Aurora had gathered as much. For Cornelia, her duty to The Order fulfilled her in every way. She enjoyed the attentions of men, but did not suffer the stirrings of the heart. Aurora understood well Cornelia’s position, because she’d once been of the very same mind—before Cyrus.
> “And what direction would you see The Order take?”
“One that is more becoming of the changing times.” Olympia seemed to weigh her words carefully before she spoke again. “Besides The Order, we that uphold the oath have nothing else to live for. Years ago, I would have said any distraction threatens The Order, but now I am no longer certain.”
Olympia pierced her with probing eyes, and Aurora held her breath already knowing what was to come because she’d witnessed such a look upon her friend’s face in the past.
“I met Cyrus once, when he was first entering the arena, and still had not taken to his life as a slave. I watched him closely during those games, and the look in his eyes was so like the one I’d glimpsed in your own many years ago—full of determination and the resounding will to survive.”
Olympia turned from her then. “I chose you Aurora for this mission because I knew you would do your duty, but it was a test as well.”
Aurora started in surprise, a slow anger coiling in her belly. “A test?” Her eyes narrowed. “Please do not tell me this was because of one of your visions, your premonitions,” Aurora snapped at her friend, but she already knew. Aurora was of the mind that Olympia’s visions held some truth, but her mentor could not make decisions pertaining to The Order on them alone. It was foolishness; it was madness.
“Doubt me all you want, mock me if you must, The Order is changing, the world around us is changing, and you, Aurora, are the key.”
She was the key? The key to what exactly? Aurora barely managed to stifle a wry snort, for when it came to The Order, she was just one among hundreds who upheld the oath. She was not special.
“Again, your face suggests you do not believe me. Well, believe what you must, Aurora, but before you met Cyrus, I was there to witness the shadows in your eyes, the past that haunted you, but that haunts you no more. Where you once lived behind a wall, you have opened yourself to others—Cyrus and Artemisia, even Cornelia. You returned to Ostia with a reason to live, because you discovered love—”
“But to what end?” Aurora fumed. “Cyrus does not love me back, at least not as I love him, and I almost failed in my duty because of him.”
“Almost, maybe—but you didn’t, and I wager Cyrus does love you the same, he just has yet to realize it.”
Aurora shook her head. “Listen to yourself, Olympia. You cannot put at risk our entire Order because of your visions, which tell you to match make. Much like Cornelia, I am convinced you shall someday find yourself among The Covenant, and I do not wish you to jeopardize yourself because of some misguided premonitions.”
Olympia smiled, her eyes kind, her expression patient. Aurora did not share in the tranquility of Olympia’s countenance. She thought it madness what Olympia suggested. The Order of Hesperia had long been a secret society of women who’d pledged their lives to the goddess of war and The Empire. They’d taken an oath and long had they honored it. In times past, a Keeper was forbidden to take a husband. That was not so now, but most still did not. Those who did soon found themselves no longer taking assignments, except for the most trivial of tasks.
Aurora knew her friend well and from the look in her eyes, Olympia’s vision for The Order would see that matrons and wives still served the goddess and The Empire. It was foolishness, madness.
“It is,” Olympia said as if reading her thoughts. “But the same was said of Hippolyte when she unified the branches and established The Covenant. Many said it could not be done, others even rebelled, calling her a tyrant. Yet, we are stronger now because of her actions.
“I know my visions, Aurora, and I have seen what will come of us if we remain rigid in our duty.”
Olympia appeared convinced, and Aurora had learned a long time ago, to quarrel with her was futile when she had her convictions.
“Well, time shall reveal if you are right.” With a small smile, Aurora left behind that conversation to return to another, one she’d been eager to broach from the moment Olympia had walked into Aurora’s chambers. “Enough of these premonitions and visions you have of The Order.” Aurora’s face brightened. “I would much rather hear this good news you have for me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Just north of the Greek lands of Macedon, Thrace had once been an untamed and wild land, a primitive home to hundreds of nomadic tribes.
The Romans had changed that, bringing with them their architecture, their roads and baths, their culture and people. Bustling and thriving cities now stretched across the Roman province of Thrace, but just beyond the banks of the Mesta one could still find the original tribes scattered across what remained of the open lands of old Thrace.
Upon horseback, Cyrus now made his way to his home. Four years had passed since he’d set foot on Thracian soil, and he had not known what emotions would course through him upon returning there.
Cyrus had prepared himself for the dueling sentiments of anger and joy.
The fury that still simmered through his veins at his brother’s betrayal was only tempered by what he’d imagined would be the welcome relief of returning to all that was familiar to him.
He was surprised to discover as he neared the thatched roof hut which had once been his, he felt neither anger, nor joy. Regret was what settled in the pit of his stomach and tightened his chest. To leave Aurora and return there had been a mistake. This was not his home—not these lands, not this place, not anymore.
Aurora was his home, and within her arms was where he’d found peace, in her arms was where he felt safest.
It was too late to turn away now, he was mere footsteps away from his old dwellings.
But he would have to tell Sorina the truth.
Before they’d parted ways, Cornelia had tried to tell him this would happen. That he would return to the life he’d left behind out of duty and honor, only to discover there was neither duty nor honor in living a lie with one he did not love.
He had been stubborn about returning. One did not abandon his obligations.
Cyrus could not have lived with himself had he not journeyed to Thrace, but he knew the moment he saw her rushing from what had once been their home, that neither could he stay.
The light of early dawn spread its shimmering fingers of gold and copper across the horizon, touching upon her amber locks, creating a halo about her face.
She smiled warmly as she neared, her face as beautiful as he’d remembered, and a knot of guilt twisted in his gut as he leapt down from his horse. The tightness in his belly grew worse with every passing second as he moved to close the distance between them. With every step he took, he felt as if a weight of iron had settled in his stomach.
He called her name, and she called his as they embraced warmly, but their arms around one another were those of siblings, joyful to see each other, but lacking the passion of intimate love.
Cyrus’ longing for Aurora grew fiercer, his need to see her, to be with her once again caused him to ache with want until he could feel the wrenching pain of it within the space of his heart.
“Cyrus,” Sorina cried, her eyes sparkling with tears. “I did not believe it was you when I saw you on the horizon. So long I thought you dead, I thought you were—” Her voice broke and she hugged him again as if she could not believe he stood before her, alive and well.
“It warms me to know you are well,” she said finally.
He cupped her cheek. “As I hope you have been well,” he replied, his gaze drifting lower until it settled upon her distended belly. “I trust you have wed again, that you now have the family you long desired.”
Her eyes filled with guilt, but before she could speak, he halted her with the shake of his head. “I have been gone for four years Sorina, and you thought me dead. I only ever wanted you to be happy.” Her attention had settled on the ground and he lifted her chin. “Please tell me you are happy.”
Her face brightened instantly, and it pleased him to see her joyful expression, that he would not carry a burden of guilt around because he’d hurt
her.
“Very,” she admitted, but the smile on her face soon dipped into a frown and her eyes clouded with pain. “After Orthon died I did not think I would ever love again. I did not believe I would ever know happiness again.”
“Orthon is dead?” Cyrus almost doubled over.
Sorina nodded sadly. “The both of you were ambushed by Roman thieves. Orthon’s body was found, but never yours. We’d all thought you dead, that for some reason they’d taken your body with them.” She palmed his cheek with her hand. “That is why it is a miracle that you have returned to us, that you are alive.”
Cyrus did well in masking his features so that she would not glimpse his true emotions. It was no ‘miracle’ at all. Orthon had sold him, then left expecting to return to Sorina with a small fortune, but he’d been betrayed. The trader had apparently not wanted to part with such an enormous sum.
Because of his greed, his jealousy, his deceit—Orthon had forfeited his life.
All this time, Cyrus had been embittered, festering in his rage toward a dead man. In the space of that moment, Cyrus felt nothing, but later, when he was alone, he would mourn for the brother he’d lost, the one he’d once loved, not the one who’d betrayed him so cruelly.
Sorina looked up at him expectantly, and he realized then she’d spoken.
There were many questions she had for him, and she wanted to know if he would stay to meet her husband and her other child. She wished to know what had happened to him, and if he’d returned home for good. Following after her toward what had once been his home, he agreed to join her family for supper, and then he would answer all of Sorina’s questions, especially the one that burned in his heart.
Had he returned home for good?
Thrace was no longer his home, and while he did not know where his home was at this particular moment, he knew it was with Aurora.
* * * *