He felt a presence come up behind him and he did not have to turn to know who was there. A moment later, Darius stood by his side and the older Immortal put an arm across his shoulders.
“You must learn to laugh more, my friend,” Darius said softly. “I have told you often, you must learn to see the absurdity in these mortal lives and mortal plans that they take so seriously. Without such laughter the centuries become very long indeed.”
Grayson said nothing; he and Darius had had this conversation too often in the past for more words to be necessary.
“Come back to the fire, my friend,” Darius said. “Come—drink some wine and laugh at this game we play with other men’s lives. Never forget that for all their blustering, they are only pawns. They are born, they love, they fight, they die—and we go on. This game we win just by being alive.”
Grayson let himself be soothed by Darius’s words. Together they walked back to the fire where Alaric still sat, drinking his wine and shouting jests with his men.
Absurdity. Suddenly Darius’s word filled Grayson’s mind and it seemed so very, very right. There was Alaric, full of bluster and bravado, leading his great army of uneducated barbarians against an empire that had stood for centuries. The absurd part, Grayson realized in that instant, was that they would prevail. The unwashed masses would topple the tower of reason and civilization.
And then what? Then the cycle would begin again: human history built on the short spans of mortal lives and the equally short span of mortal memory. And he and Darius would watch it all.
Someday, perhaps, they would control it all.
Grayson threw back his head and roared his dark, sardonic laughter into the night.
As the army resumed its march south, the novelty of her freedom began to pall for Callestina. The days were not so bad, riding in the warm summer sunshine. But at night the loneliness set in. It did not help that in the distance she could hear the men talking and singing and laughing with each other. Each day she found herself edging a little closer, instinct driving her to the comfort of companionship.
Still, she tried to be careful where she made her camp. She looked for little hollows in the land or sheltering stands of trees that would hide the small fire she made to cook her food and keep the empty night at bay.
As the army neared Rome, the places she could hide grew fewer. Traces of organized civilization and too many people spread like grasping fingers outward from the city. Callestina had to trust to luck and hope the army would be too intent upon looking forward to notice one small fire twinkling behind.
Her luck held until the army was one day’s march from their goal. She had snared a rabbit for her supper, then cleaned and skinned it, built a fire, and set it to roast on a spit. She was so bent upon her work that she did not hear the footsteps behind her.
Suddenly, rough hands grabbed her and she heard the hiss of a sword being pulled from its sheath. Callestina had no time to scream as she found herself on her feet, arms pinned behind her and a blade at her throat.
“By the gods, ‘tis Alaric’s sister,” the man in front of her said. His companion, the one who held her arms in a viselike grip, swung her around to look at her face.
At first his eyes were wide with surprise, but then a slow grin spread across his face. It was not a pleasant sight and Callestina felt her insides go cold.
“So it is,” he said. His eyes raked down her body, lingering hungrily over the way her breasts strained against the fabric of the tunic she wore. “Even dressed in men’s clothes, she’s a sight. It’s been too many days since I had a woman.”
He started to pull her close. Callestina prepared herself to scream, to fight in any way she could, but the other man moved faster. In an instant, his sword was between her and her would-be rapist.
“Hold,” he said sharply. “She’s been Darius’s woman all winter. Take her now and that’s who you’ll have to face.”
Callestina watched her captor’s face blanch. So they’re Darius’s men, she thought as her heart filled with pride in her lover. Even his own men feared him.
Callestina pulled her arms free. She turned to run, but the man with the sword caught her once again.
“Oh, no,” he said, “you’ll not get away. Darius will want to see you—and Alaric. Get her horse, Torvald, and we’ll take her to camp.”
Callestina was silent. She would not give these men the pleasure of hearing her beg for her freedom. And this moment might still be used to her advantage, if she was careful. She would have had to reveal her presence to her brother—and to Darius—soon. But she had planned to wait until after they attacked Rome. She had planned to show herself only when she could greet Darius as the conquering hero she knew he would be.
Now destiny had changed her plans to one of its own. Callestina knew she must continue to trust the goddesses who wove time within their threads. She was their sworn servant and they would not fail her entreaties.
“You need not hold me like some prisoner,” she said, pulling her arm against her captor’s grip. “I’ll not run away. Release me and take me to my brother’s fire.”
Both men laughed. “You’re in a fine position to be giving orders,” the man who held her anus replied. “I’ll take you to Alaric’s fire, all right, but prisoner you are and will remain until I’m told you are not.”
I’ll make him pay for this a thousand times over. Callestina thought as the man holding her began to walk, pulling her along. Behind her, the other man laughed again.
I’ll make them both pay. I’ll see that Alaric has them whipped for treating me this way. And Darius—he ‘II be angry, too. He ‘II see to it that they ‘re punished. I know he will.
Buoyed by that thought, Callestina walked a little faster.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Callestina!” Alaric shouted at her. He had come to his feet at the sight of her, spilling his wine and his dinner onto the ground. Now he stood glaring at her across the fire.
“You were told to wait at Cremona. How dare you defy me. This is no place for a woman.”
“Why shouldn’t I be here?” Callestina shouted back. “Does not the same blood flow in our veins? I have every right to be a warrior, too,” she added, lifting her chin to stare at him defiantly.
She heard Darius’s chuckle and she whipped around to face him.
“You have women in your army,” she said to him. “They are warriors. I have a warrior’s heart—I can right as they do.”
“No doubt you can, my little Callestina, after a few years of practice with a sword,” he said quietly.
The laughter in his eyes caressed her. Callestina felt for a moment as if her insides melted. She wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and kiss those smiling lips until his amusement turned to desire.
“No!” Alaric roared. “No, you will not fight.”
Callestina tore her eyes away from Darius. She turned to face her brother once more.
“You arc my sister,” he continued. “The sister of Alaric the Great, leader of the Visigoths and soon to be the conqueror of Rome. There are other things ahead in life for you than wielding a sword.”
“Your plans for my life, you mean,” she said.
Alaric stepped across the fire and grabbed her arms. His fingers dug so cruelly into her flesh that Callestina almost cried out.
“Yes, my plans,” he said, towering over her, “and you will obey them.”
Rage burned in his eyes. Callestina bit back a retort. For now. But he would find that her obedience was something she did not surrender easily. She had plans of her own and she would not give them up just to please her brother.
If the war she was given to fight was one of wills, she would use every weapon she possessed.
She lowered her eyes in false demur. “As you say, Alaric,” she answered, making her voice low and sweet.
Alaric’s grip loosened. The fire died in his eyes. He is so easily fooled, Callestina thought.
“Now, siste
r of mine, what am I to do with you?” Alaric said more quietly. “With Rome almost within my grasp, I cannot spare an armed escort to take you back where you belong.”
“Alaric, please… I want—”
“Be quiet,” he snapped before she could finish. “I don’t care what you want.”
“I’ll take care of Callestina,” came a voice from the other side of the fire. “I’ll make certain she’s safe.”
Callestina turned toward the sound. It was Grayson, sitting half in shadow; Callestina had not noticed him before, but where else would he be? She was grateful for his intervention—and she was sure that when the time came, she could persuade him to do as she wished. He would take her to Darius.
She smiled at Grayson, briefly, then her eyes sought Darius once again. Just the sight of him made her tingle all over; they had been apart far too long.
Why hadn’t Darius offered to protect her? She felt the question pass quickly through her mind. But no, she answered it herself; his place was leading his men and fighting by her brother’s side. She would not deny him the glory of it. His strength and his leadership were part of what she loved about him.
“Hmmph, well,” Alaric blustered, obviously relieved to have the problem solved. “You can’t very well sleep among the men, Callestina. I’ll have a tent set up here, next to my fire. It’s nothing but trouble you’re causing, girl. See that you don’t cause any more. If you were one of my men, I’d have you beaten for such disobedience.”
Callestina once more lowered her eyes meekly. “Thank you, Alaric,” she said.
She kept her eyes lowered as he left to arrange for her quarters. Only when she was certain he was gone did she look up again. Then she found Darius’s eyes and smiled. With a defiant toss of her head, she sat in her brother’s place and lifted his cup to her lips.
Her action was rewarded by Darius’s hearty laughter.
Darius did not come to her during the night. Although Callestina burned for his touch, she had not expected him. The next morning it was Grayson, not Darius, who met her as she emerged from her tent.
“I said I would keep you safe,” he said to her, “and I mean to do just that. Come with me.”
He turned and started walking away. Callestina saw she had no choice but to follow. She hurried to catch up.
All around them, the men of the army were preparing for the day’s march—the final day’s march to Rome. Amid the ordered chaos, Callestina could feel the excitement in the air; she could hear the eagerness in their voices. Grayson, however, was as taciturn as ever.
“Why?” she asked when she reached his side. “Why did you say that?”
Grayson turned and looked at her. It felt as if his eyes were boring into her with a look that held neither love nor loathing, but something more intense than either. Yet what it was, Callestina could not name.
The long stare seemed to last an eternity. Finally—finally—Grayson turned away. “Come,” he repeated as he began to walk once again.
They walked to where the horses were staked. Grayson led her to her own and indicated she should mount.
“If you give your word to ride peacefully, I’ll not have you tied to the saddle, as your brother suggested,” he said. “And don’t think you can fool me with your meek words and soft looks. I know you well, Callestina of the Visigoths. Better, in fact, than you know yourself.”
Callestina wondered what he meant by these words, but one look at his face and she kept her questions to herself. It doesn’t truly matter what he thinks anyway, she told herself as she swung into her saddle. I’m here, near Darius, and that is all that matters.
“You will ride, at least for now, al the front of the army with your brother, Darius, and myself. If we run into any resistance, you will do exactly what I say. without hesitation and without argument. If you do not agree to this, then we will stay here. I am loath to leave Darius’s side this close to battle, but I have given my word and I intend to keep it.
“Well?” he said sharply when Callestina did not answer immediately. “Do you agree?”
Callestina nodded, but that was not enough for Grayson. “I want your word,” he said. “Swear by whatever you hold sacred. I don’t care by what, but swear you will obey and cause no more trouble.”
“I swear,” Callestina said, searching her mind quickly for a belief he would accept and that would give her the freedom to do what she needed. “I swear by the destiny I follow.”
Grayson shot her a quizzical look, but he said nothing further. After a moment he nodded, then he turned away to mount his own horse. He reined it in until it sidestepped close to hers. With his free hand, he motioned toward her saddle.
“There’s bread and meat in the bag and fresh water in the skin,” he said. “We eat as we ride.”
Callestina did not argue; she would say and do nothing now that might jeopardize her nearness to Darius. Today she would do as she was told in quiet acquiescence.
Tomorrow was another matter.
Camp was made that night within sight of Rome.
Rome, the Eternal City. Nestled among its seven hills, Rome spread in glory and poverty, opulence and decay. The sight of it had nearly taken Callestina’s breath away; she had never realized it was so big. How could any army, even one as large as theirs, hope to breach those walls?
At a word from her brother, the army had spread out, swarming over the surrounding hills like a great horde of locusts. By nightfall they had encircled the city, and now, in the darkness, their campfires dotted the landscape. All who lived within the Roman walls knew that the Visigoths were only waiting upon the dawn to attack.
And thus, Fear was their first weapon.
“She’s like an overripe plum—near to rotten and ready to fall,” Alaric said, gesturing with his wine cup in the direction of the city. His spirits were high and he seemed to have even forgiven Callestina for her intrusion upon this male domain. At least he had neither glared nor growled at her all evening.
“I tell you, we shall sleep tomorrow in that city of dreams and she shall be ours,” he continued.
Darius laughed. “That is well said, my friend,” he agreed.
Callestina looked at the men. She could see nothing but confidence in their faces—even Grayson was smiling. Was she the only one, then, who felt awe at this city that had stood for a thousand years? Was this merely the bravado men needed to prepare themselves for the battle ahead, or did they see something she did not? Rome looked impregnable to her.
The sound of men’s voices filled the darkness. They were talking and laughing, even singing around some campfires. How many of them will be dead tomorrow? Callestina wondered.
Suddenly, she could not bear to sit here another instant. She was tired of thoughts of death. She stood and walked away from the fires. A few steps, and then the cool, welcoming darkness embraced her. She stood still, trying to block out the voices, trying to hear her own breath, her own heartbeat. She did not want to think about tomorrow, but the thoughts followed her.
Tomorrow men would die—perhaps some she had known her whole life. Perhaps her brother…
Perhaps Darius…
Darius.
The thought nearly choked her. She found it hard to breathe around the constriction that began at her heart and went up into her throat.
Darius—no, he must not die. Whatever else happened tomorrow, he must remain unharmed.
“Death is part of life—for mortal men.” Grayson spoke suddenly behind her.
Callestina whipped around. How could he have known what she was thinking? Then the strangeness of his words hit her. All men were mortal; only the gods did not know death.
She could see nothing more than his silhouette, a deeper shadow in the darkness. Even when he stepped close to her, she could not read his expression.
“You must accept that, Callestina,” he continued. “Mortal men die—in battle, of sickness, of old age. What does it really matter how? Short, pitiable mortal lives. At least those who
die tomorrow will go out as warriors.”
“And that makes a difference?” Callestina forced the words out.
‘To them, yes.”
“And to you?”
She could almost hear Grayson’s sardonic smile. “Ah, I am another matter entirely—as you will learn soon enough.”
He turned and started to walk away. “Come, Callestina,” he said. “There will be time enough for fears and worries tomorrow. Tonight you must have the courage to put them aside for the sake of those who must soon face battle.”
Callestina made no move to join him. His words unnerved her and she did not want his company. But Grayson was relentless. He stopped, and though he did not turn around, his next words were pointed.
“I never thought you a coward,” he said.
“I am no coward,” Callestina retorted. “I am here, am I not?”
“Yes, you are here—cowering in the darkness. If you truly believe you have a warrior’s heart, then come back to the fire. Do not think of the death that might come to the men around you, but of their bravery and their strength. Tomorrow, send them on their way with your smile. That is the courage all sisters and mothers, wives and lovers must possess—and it is, perhaps, the greater battle.”
Grayson’s words surprised her. She would not have thought him capable of such depth of understanding. But then, there was much she did not know about Grayson and the life he had lived. Had he ever loved, ever wanted and needed someone. as she loved Darius? There seemed to be much more to Grayson than she had ever valued before.
Perhaps, when this is over and Darius and I have a home together, I will have time to learn more about this man whom Darius calls friend, she thought as she began to follow him back to where the others were waiting for their night to pass.
Chapter Twenty-two
The army was moving before dawn. Trees, felled last night, had their branches cut away, leaving only stubs for handholds and turning the lifeless trunks into siege weapons. With these, they hoped to shatter the gates.
Highlander: Shadow of Obsession Page 14