Desert Prince

by Constance O'Banyon

  “Take my advice and send Marcellus to one of the remote provinces so the people will forget him.”

  Augustus shook his head, knowing his wife’s advice was usually wise, but not in this instance. She did not fully understand the loyalty Marcellus commanded in Rome. “I dare not even do that. If I sent him anywhere, it would be to Egypt. No one would criticize me for that.”

  Livia swept a stray curl behind her ear, determined to change her husband’s mind, but ever so subtly, as usual. “Of course they would not, because it would be no punishment for him. It is well known he and his Egyptian wife maintain a large villa there. Do not forget how close Marcellus’s nephew stood to the throne of Egypt.”

  Augustus sighed. “You are probably right; I cannot send him to Egypt. I will keep him in Rome, so he can be watched. Why am I plagued by this family?”

  Livia looked at her husband in disgust. “Because you place too much importance on them.” She moved across the room, waving a delicate hand. “Do as you think best, but I still advise you to send him to a faraway province—Gaul perhaps.”

  Augustus watched her leave, his mind going back to the oracle’s warnings. If she was correct, he must not spill one drop of Tausrat blood, but perhaps he could imprison them. He shook his head. Too risky. He was angry that he had gained such power and yet still feared members of the Tausrat family.

  He felt a quiver race through his body and suddenly his hands began to tremble. He, and he alone, was responsible for the deaths of Queen Cleopatra and her son. Egypt had a long memory, and the Tausrats were the highest-ranking family left in Egypt.

  The mighty Augustus, ruler of the world, hoped he did not spend another sleepless night wrestling with the ghosts of the Ptolemy bloodline.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alexandria, Egypt

  Sabinah had been home for twelve days, and nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Trisella, for the most part, ignored her, as did Bastet. Although there had been banquets on three occasions, Sabinah had not been pressed to attend. The word was that Vergilius was away from Alexandria, and she imagined that was the reason she had been left alone.

  Tonight, however, her stepmother had ordered her presence, and Sabinah supposed the tribune had returned.

  The garden was softly glowing with the light of lanterns hanging from trees and others placed along the path. The banquet chamber was ablaze with light, and music filtered through the house.

  Sabinah dressed in white, her only adornment a golden clasp that held her gown together on one shoulder, leaving the other bare.

  When she entered the banquet chamber, her stepmother’s head was bent as she listened to something a Roman officer was telling her. The man touched Trisella’s breast, and he must have whispered something risqué because her stepmother gave a throaty laugh. Sabine felt a blush of humiliation climb her face.

  “So you have returned.”

  Sabinah turned to find Vergilius right behind her. “As you see.” She reminded herself that she must be nice to him if she was to help Julian. “I heard you, yourself, were away,” she said, softening her voice.

  Encouraged, Vergilius smiled down at her. “I was in the desert. Not a place that appeals to me.”

  Warning bells went off in her mind. “The desert. Why would you go there?”

  He shook his head. “Nay, little beauty. You shall not coax secrets from me.”

  She remembered their last conversation had ended in an argument, and she needed to make amends. “Then of what shall we speak?” she asked, looking him straight in the eye.

  He was intrigued. “Are you are not still angry with me?”

  “Why should I be?”

  He touched her bare shoulder and when she did not move away, he felt encouraged. “I am sorry we quarreled when last we met. I must find a way to make it up to you.” He withdrew something from his tunic and dangled it before her. The wristband was gold with a medallion of a falcon head inlaid with lapis lazuli.

  Sabinah’s eyes widened. “I cannot take that. Since it has the head of a royal falcon, it must have been stolen from the tomb of a king or queen.” She shivered in horror. “Is that what you were doing in the desert—breaking into a royal tomb?”

  “Nay, nay,” Vergilius hastened to assure her. “I bought this from a merchant, intending it for you.”

  “I do not believe you. There could be no other reason for you to go into the desert.”

  Vergilius looked stunned. “If you must know, a Macedonian boatman told me he had heard Lord Julian had been sighted in a small fishing village.”

  “An unlikely tale.”

  He sighed wearily. “You might well think so. The people in the village would tell me nothing, although I threatened their lives, and roughed a few of them up a bit.”

  Being nice to the tribune was not as easy as Sabinah had thought it would be. “Perhaps they did not tell you anything because they did not know anything.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Did you do harm to those simple people just because some Macedonian boatman told you a tale?”

  “Nay. They suffered no more than a few bruises.” He held the wristband out to her with hope in his eyes. “Will you accept this from me?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “I will not. You may not have taken it from a sacred tomb, but someone did.”

  Bastet was walking past and had overheard their conversation. She grabbed the wristband and slid it onto her wrist. “If my half-wit stepsister does not want this, you can give it to me.”

  Vergilius held out his hand. “It was a gift for Sabinah. If she does not want it, I shall return it for something she will like.”

  Bastet removed the wristband and dropped it at Sabinah’s feet, her face red with fury. She stalked away, her steps jerky because she was so angry.

  Vergilius scooped up the wristband and turned his attention to Sabinah. “Enchantress, while I was away I had time to think about our relationship.”

  “As did I.” She swept her hand toward the nearest couch, aware both Trisella and Bastet were watching her. “Shall we sit? I believe my stepmother has arranged for entertainment.”

  “Could we not walk in the garden? I want to be alone with you.”

  Sabinah reached for something to say. She did not want to be alone with him. “I have not eaten since morning, and I find I am hungry.”

  He took her arm and led her forward. “Then let us dine.”

  Sabinah reached for a joint of pheasant and nibbled on the juicy meat without tasting it.

  Vergilius watched her, his gaze on her lips. “I have a hunger as well, but it is not for food.”

  Sabinah shivered with revulsion, knowing she must turn his mind to other matters. “How is your search going for rebels against Rome?” She did not want to single Julian out lest Vergilius become suspicious.

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I have captured a few.” He leaned back on a cushion, watching her carefully. “Take for instance, General Heikki, who ranks high with the Badari, but who is now in my custody.”

  Vergilius reached to offer her a grape, but she refused it with the shake of her head, her mind swirling at what he had just disclosed. “You were saying?” she prodded, feeling sick inside. She remembered the dark-eyed general who rode so proudly beside his prince.

  Vergilius’s smile did nothing to soften his harsh features. His dark gaze reminded her of a wolf about to devour its kill.

  “The Badari are a stubborn people—this man … Heikki will tell me nothing, although I have applied the whip. But he will talk. Before I am finished with him, he will beg me to listen to him.”

  Sabinah reached for a grape and slid it into her mouth, but it stuck in her throat. Reaching for a goblet of wine, she took a sip. “Do you not fear someone will try to rescue him?” she asked, hoping he would tell her where General Heikki was being held.

  “I have no fear of that. He is chained in the guardhouse at my villa. Not even a spider could slip past my guards.
”

  “Your villa? Do you mean the one that belonged to Lady Larania?”

  His expression hardened, and he gripped her shoulders. “That lady forfeited the property when she died,” he replied in a hard tone, his fingers tightening. “As all traitors to Rome must die.”

  Sabinah nodded in the direction of the scantily clad dancers that had entered the chamber, whirling and swaying to the tune of a flute. She needed to get away from him. She must get word to Apollodorus about Heikki.

  Looking into Vergilius’s eyes, she knew he would not be easily fooled. He might even have volunteered this information in hopes she would alert Julian. As she went back over their conversation in her mind, she was sure it was a trap. But that would not stop her from telling Apollodorus. There was not a doubt in her mind that Vergilius had captured the Badari general. How else would he know Heikki’s name?

  Feeling his hot gaze on her, Sabinah took another sip of wine. She stared at his hand, which had suddenly landed on her thigh. There were black hairs on the knuckles, and the fingers were blunt and strong. These were the hands that had slain Lady Larania.

  Feeling sick, she placed the wine goblet on the table beside her. “If you will excuse me, it is too hot in here. I am feeling unwell.”

  He rose beside her, noticing she was pale. “Can I take you into the garden?”

  “Nay. Forgive me, I must retire.” Sabinah knew as she hurried out of the room, the tribune was staring after her. Her only thought was to get word to Apollodorus before General Heikki was slain.

  Trisella appeared beside the disgruntled Vergilius. “My stepdaughter is skittish. She will come around in time.”

  “I do not have time,” he said bitingly. “I have offered her marriage, which is more than most of my countrymen would do. She should recognize the honor I pay her.”

  Trisella could feel the opportunity to advance in society slipping away because of her stepdaughter’s stubbornness. “I wonder if Sabinah would be more amenable if I gave her a drug?”

  “Of what are you speaking?” he asked, frowning.

  “A drug that must be used sparingly because the main ingredient is rare and difficult to obtain. It is from the scales of a fish found deep in the sea.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You have my promise it cannot be tasted, and the one who drinks it will relax into a restful night’s sleep if given one drop. But if I administer two drops, the victim will be rendered completely helpless.”

  “Are you mad, woman? Look you, I do not want Sabinah helpless when I make love to her. Rather I would have her biting and scratching.”

  “But think of this,” Trisella said cunningly, “she will know everything you do to her, yet she will be unable to prevent it.” Her eyes gleamed. “After you have had your way with her, I feel she will be more accepting of your offer of marriage. What do you think?”

  Vergilius considered a long moment. “Nay. I have heard of your potions, and I have been warned against them. And further, I have committed many grievous acts in my lifetime, but I have never taken a woman who was not willing to have me in her bed.”

  “That is because you are handsome, and no woman would want to deny you.”

  “Except your stepdaughter. I want Sabinah in my bed, ’tis true, but I am opposed to your method. By the gods, woman, she is under your protection!”

  Trisella slid her long shapely fingernails down his arm. “Would that I were my stepdaughter and had caught your attention. I would not say nay.”

  “Madam,” he said, removing her hand from his arm, “as much as I admire you, you are past your prime.”

  Trisella took an angry step away from him. “I still stir the passions of many men.”

  “I have little doubt of that,” he remarked graciously. “But it is Sabinah I desire.”

  Jealousy burned inside Trisella. “My stepdaughter is not as amenable as Bastet. Sabinah does not like the things Bastet craves.”

  Vergilius became impatient. “I know all about Bastet. But she is not the one I want. It is my hope to change Sabinah’s mind about me. I have approached her all wrong. I should have wooed her with words.”

  “Why do you prefer her to Bastet? She cannot compare to my daughter, who is a rare beauty, and Bastet needs no wooing.”

  “What you say was once true—Bastet was and is a beauty. When Sabinah was all legs and arms and had the shape of a lad, I did not see her beauty. But have you taken a good look at Sabinah lately? She is as delicate as a flower. There is something about her that draws the eye. Nay, madam, your daughter is no longer the beauty of the family.”

  Trisella drew herself up in anger. “Ridiculous!”

  He laughed and turned away. “Perhaps you and I see beauty in different ways.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sabinah crossed the corridor, heading through the garden to reach the kitchen, knowing she would be less likely to encounter any of Trisella’s guests in that direction. As she hurried past the herb garden, golden light spilled into the darkness from the kitchen doorway. She slowed her steps, squared her shoulders, and went into the kitchen.

  The cook, Ma’dou, stood at a scarred table, her cleaver raised to lop the head off a waterfowl. She paused in shock as she saw Sabinah standing in her kitchen.

  “Mistress, is there aught you need?”

  Two other servants turned their shocked gazes on the young mistress of the house. A third servant looked questioningly at her as well. There was no mistaking she was of Badari descent—she would be Rafta.

  “Forgive my disturbing you,” Sabinah said, her gaze first on Ma’dou, then turning slowly to the Badari. “I must have taken a wrong turn, meaning to go to the garden. The night is dark.” With the slightest nod, she left quickly, fearing her strange behavior might be reported to her stepmother.

  She paced the herb garden, shivering in the night air as she waited for Rafta. Time passed and still the woman did not appear. Could Rafta have misunderstood her intentions?

  Just when Sabinah was about to give up in frustration, the woman emerged from the shadows. “Forgive me, mistress. Ma’dou has eyes like the hawk—she watches my every move.”

  Sabinah knew how devoted to duty Ma’dou was, and when she missed this young woman, she would come looking for her. “You must get word to Apollodorus at once. General Heikki has been captured by Tribune Vergilius. Most probably he has been tortured because that is Vergilius’s way.”

  She heard the woman gasp. “Mistress, General Heikki is a most important man to the Badari.”

  “I know this. Inform Apollodorus the general is being held at the guardhouse of what was once Lady Larania’s villa.”

  The woman’s eyes darted about in fear. “I will go at once, mistress.”

  Sabinah caught her hand. “Take this warning with you—I suspect this whole incident might have been set up as a trap. Apollodorus will know what to do.”

  “Mistress, what if the cook comes looking for me?”

  “I shall take care of Ma’dou. Hasten! There may not be much time to save Heikki.”

  After Rafta disappeared, Sabinah reentered the kitchen and approached the cook. “Ma’dou, your poor helper was ill and shaking with fever, so I sent her to her room. Allow her to rest for the night. We do not yet know if she is contagious and do not want the rest of the house to become ill.”

  “If she be sick, I do not want her around my kitchen,” the cook said, slicing through a plump date and dipping it in honey but giving Sabinah a guarded look as if she did not believe her.

  Sabinah knew that no matter her suspicions, Ma’dou would not betray her. She left the kitchen and went straight to bed.

  She lay in the dark, tense and fearful that Vergilius had set a trap and she had sent Apollodorus right into it. She wondered what could be happening at that very moment? Had Apollodorus freed General Heikki, or had he been taken prisoner as well?

  It would be many hours before she knew the outcome of this night’s work.
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  The night was dark as Apollodorus and three hand-picked Badari slid over the wide wall. He held up his hand, urging them to halt while his gaze swept across the courtyard. He spotted the two guards near the gate, smiling to himself—he would never have come through that entrance. There was another guard near the fountain—he might be a problem.

  He motioned to one of his companions and whispered, “Eliminate him.”

  The man faded into the shadows, and there was only a soft muffled sound and a sharp crack—the Bardari had broken the neck of the man near the fountain.

  Stealthily, the four of them moved toward their goal. There were three men outside the guardhouse, and most probably one or more inside. Without a sound, the Badari attacked the three Romans while Apollodorus slipped into the building. There was no one in the room except Heikki. His arms were chained to the wall, and he was unconscious.

  Apollodorus, with his mighty strength, yanked the chains from the wall and freed Heikki. He bore the unconscious man’s weight, and joined the others. They slipped over the fence without the guards at the gate being any the wiser.

  Vergilius swore as he shoved the guard against the wall. “How is it someone came in here, took my prisoner, and yet none of you heard anything? Imbeciles! Gutless cowards!” He turned to Centurion Gallius in anger. “Fifty lashes for every man,” he announced with venom. “Then two weeks of nothing but broth and bread.”

  In a fury Vergilius stalked away. Even as he had laid the trap for Sabinah, he had hoped she would not fall into it. Now she had committed treason, and for that she would pay!

  Remembering the conversation he had had with Trisella, and how she had offered to drug Sabinah, he paused to think. Before, he would have felt guilty for taking advantage of Sabinah in such a way, but now she deserved no pity from him.