Delia tied her horse to the rear of the cart, noting the expensive, dark green fabric stretched over the top and down one side. She helped Jake load the two men into the conveyance. The space was padded with thick blankets and a mattress filled with sheep’s fleece. There were colorful silk pillows strewn about to make the ride as comfortable as possible for Servilia. The fact that this powerful and aristocratic woman would give up her quarters for her injured slaves said something good about her in Delia’s estimation.
Jake was attending to the men, wrapping their bloody wounds with strips torn from one of the blankets in the cart. With all this commotion, he wouldn’t have time to try to read anyone’s thoughts, Delia knew. She watched Servilia climb gingerly up on the wagon and sit next to her driver.
“Delia,” the woman called, “I want you to ride ahead to my house in Rome, as fast as you can.” She slipped a ruby ring from her fourth finger and held it out. “Take this ring. My physician, Alkaios the Greek, is at my domus. Tell him what happened, and instruct him to prepare a room for my wounded slaves. He will know what to do. This ring will give you entrance through the nearest gate to the city, which is heavily guarded by Roman soldiers. It will help you in every way. Everyone recognizes the jewel Julius Caesar gave me on my birthday years ago.”
Taking the ring, Delia tucked it carefully into a leather pouch tied to the belt at her waist. “I will, domina,” she promised.
Delia saw the woman’s gaze drift speculatively to Jake. Yes, she wanted the handsome soldier of fortune. Did this powerful woman have plans for him other than simply as an escort and bodyguard back to Rome? A feeling of jealousy niggled at Delia.
She was mounting her horse when Jake emerged from the cart a final time, done binding the wounds of the two slaves. As he approached his own horse, she rode up to him.
“You have an admirer,” she whispered. “Servilia is eyeing you like a hungry wolf.” Settling the helmet back on her head, she grinned as Jake’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” she reminded him with a chuckle. Then, growing serious, she told him about Servilia’s orders.
“As soon as I’m done in Rome,” Delia added, “I’ll ride back out and meet you.”
Jake nodded. “Good.” He glanced to where Servilia sat with her head held high, shoulders back, her gray hair still hanging in a tangled mess around her thin, aristocratic face. “So, I’m stud muffin material, eh?”
Giggling softly, Delia said, “Yeah. They want your body no matter what their age.” Her smile broadened. “Hey, she told me to take off for Rome.” Lifting her hand, Delia said, “I’ll see you in a few hours. We’re hired by her, and now we’re on track.”
Gripping her wrist, Jake murmured. “You okay?”
His obvious concern shook Delia. Quickly, she jerked her arm away. Trying to ignore the heat flooding her body, the tingles his fingers had left, she muttered, “Well, of course I am!”
An impish grin spread across his perspiring features. “You fought well.”
“As if I wouldn’t?” Delia snorted. “Give me a break!”
Laughing heartily, he shrugged. “Hey, you wielded that sword like a natural. I’m impressed.”
“That would be a first.” Yet Delia couldn’t help but smile in return. She had always loved Jake’s deep, rolling laughter. And the way his eyes often danced with merriment. She wondered if he would ever stop being a terrible tease, but knew the answer to that.
The tense, dangerous meeting with Servilia had them both on an adrenaline high. Professor Carswell had picked a helluva way for them to meet this woman.
“Well,” Jake whispered, pulling his horse alongside Delia’s, “I’ll keep my hands off her. My target is you.”
Giving him a dirty look, Delia held her mount to a standstill. “Dream on, Tyler. It won’t ever happen.”
She saw his sensual mouth pull into a boyish grin, threatening to melt her pounding heart. Jake was well-meaning, but he always wanted to dominate her. And he had once more, at the lab. The look in his eyes told Delia he wasn’t going to forget that kiss. Neither was she.
Turning her horse toward Rome, she said in Latin, “Later…”
As Delia and Jake approached with Servilia’s cart the wooden gates of Servilia’s home, she admired the six-foot-high brick wall around the property. Servilia lived on a crowded street lined with dwellings and shops for as far as the eye could see. Foot traffic, lumbering oxen carts, Roman cavalry and the occasional horse-drawn chariot speeding by all created a sense of vibrant life in this powerful city.
Delia stepped through the gates, which had carved upon them an effigy of the huntress Diana holding a bow and arrow. Beyond the vestibulum, or entrance, was an airy atrium. On one plastered wall was painted a garden scene of a white marble bird bath surrounded with flowers and greenery. The space was fragrant with the smell of bread baking in the kitchen at the rear of the house, and Delia realized how hungry she’d become.
Servilia left the cart once inside the gate. She walked up to them. “You will be given an insula, apartment, here in my town house,” Servilia told them. She gestured around the atrium, which was covered by a red-tiled roof except for one rectangular area in the center. That opening allowed rainwater to collect below in the impluvium, a sunken stone basin that caught the precious liquid and channeled it to a cistern beneath the tiled floor.
Delia saw the house manager, a thin man in a dark blue tunic, come forward and bow deeply to his mistress. He had an olive complexion, black hair and brown eyes. Servilia quickly introduced the man, then ordered him to prepare a meal for them. Nepos murmured assent, bowed and quickly walked from the atrium to another part of the rambling, single-story home.
Servilia led them to a large main room, and almost at once Delia could feel a welcome warmth from the central heating she knew ran below the mosaic-tiled floor. Everywhere she looked were frescoes depicting the goddess Diana. One showed the huntress running with a stag, a dog at her heels. Another celebrated Diana with her women as they danced around a bush of holly with red berries.
Tucking their helmets beneath their left arms, Delia and Jake stood patiently and at relaxed attention in front of the powerful Roman woman.
“I cannot ever repay you two for saving my life, but I can give you the employment you seek,” Servilia told them. “You did not have to rescue me. You could have sided with those thieves and robbed me.” She held up her right arm, which was adorned with several thick gold bracelets. And the gleaming ruby ring was once more in place on her finger. “Instead, you protected me and helped my slaves. In Rome, we honor those who have honor. You are freemen from Greece. And you are obviously well educated and can read and write in several languages.”
Delia glanced at Jake. She had a feeling Servilia had questioned him on the way into Rome, finding out all sorts of things about them. She watched him smile and nod at the aristocrat, and Servilia gave him a look of raw longing that said plenty. Jealousy again rose up in Delia. How could Jake find anything appealing about this thin Roman matron whose hair was now fixed in a makeshift chignon at the nape of her neck?
Bowing, he murmured, “Domina, we live to serve you. We will die to keep you safe. Your generous allowance of one gold aureus a month is more than we ever dreamed of receiving for our services.”
“Yes, well…” Servilia sniffed, taking a gold cup filled with red wine from a red-haired, white-skinned slave called Jura. “You will find me a generous patron, Philip. After all, it was you who saved my life.” She took a sip of the warm mulled wine and lifted her hand to another slave standing near the doorway to the room. “Come, let us drink to this new alliance in the tablinum, the dining room.”
Once there, Delia and Jake accepted silver goblets of wine from Jura, who nervously served them. Delia felt sorry for the young woman. She appeared to be of Britannic or Germanic origin, her red hair drawn into one long braid down her back. Delia saw several scars reminiscent of whiplashes across her lower arms,
the only part of her not covered by her light blue tunic. What had this woman endured? Had Servilia had her whipped for some slight mistake? Delia didn’t know, but thanked her for the wine. The slave looked shocked that she would even deign to speak to her.
Sipping the wine, Delia relished its fine quality, and enjoyed the herbal flavors it contained. The concoction warmed her, and Delia drank it fairly hastily. She was tired now, and dusk was darkening the sky above the atrium. Delia longed for a hot bath, clean clothes, food and sleep, in that order. After a time jump, she always needed more sleep for a day or two, to adjust to the energy transit.
Servilia sat at a long, rectangular cedar table, while they stood nearby. There was a silver dish with yellow cheese on it, and another holding fragrant, freshly baked bread. A knife lay nearby. Several more painted scenes on the plaster walls showed the huntress Diana, one with her horse and her dogs, one of her worshipping the full, silvery moon in an inky sky.
Servilia seemed pleased that her new guards quickly drank the mulled wine. “My physician prescribes this particular herbal wine to me when I’m under stress. It makes me sleepy and I always have pleasant dreams that night.”
She looked toward the door, where an older woman stood waiting. “Geta is my head housekeeper. Geta, I want you to take my new guards to their apartments. See that they want for nothing. Alert Nepos to prepare baths for them. My best food from the kitchen is to be shared with them afterward. Nothing is too good for them, for they saved my life today. Take their clothes and have them washed and cleaned. Make sure they have fresh tunics and cloaks from my stores.”
“Yes, domina,” Geta said with a broad smile, “it shall be done.”
Jake bowed to Servilia. “My lady, we thank you for your generosity. We never expected such gifts.”
Servilia glowed, looking twenty years younger after hearing his gruffly spoken words. She obviously enjoyed such praise, and Jake resolved to use that fact to find out what made this woman tick.
“It is not out of generosity, Philip of Delos. It is that I owe you my life. What is a life worth?” She opened her hand and gestured around the room. “Caesar himself will hear from my own lips of your daring, your morals and courage. That I promise. He always rewards those who fight to protect the innocent.
“Tomorrow, you will sup with me here in the dining room. I bid both of you good-night.”
Delia bowed and murmured a few words to Servilia, then followed Jake out of the room. The slave led them through the interior of the house, the peristylium, where bedrooms, a bath and a culina, or kitchen, were located. There was such beauty in the softly glowing walls where braziers strategically offered light as night fell, reflecting off the cheery yellow-painted plaster.
Their apartments were located on the left side of the peristylium, at the rear of the sprawling home. Servilia’s rich abode sat below a hill where the temple of Diana stood. To the south was the Circus Maximus.
Delia always found that time jumping excited her as nothing else could. To ride past the vaunted arena and see it in its prime had stolen her breath. Truly, this particular building showed off Roman ingenuity and an understanding of engineering not matched in earlier ages.
Once they’d been shown their apartments, they quickly discovered that an inner door linked the two. Jake knocked on it and entered Delia’s chamber. The portal was made of cedar, hand-smoothed and decorated with bronze figures of Greek athletes wrestling.
“Hey,” he called softly. Delia was sitting on a couch that would double as her bed, removing her leather armor. Jake liked the way her coarse brown tunic bared her lower legs and showed off her breasts beneath it. His hands recalled holding her breasts, feeling their warmth, their incredible sensitivity, those nipples tightening beneath his thumbs.
Swallowing hard, he decided this wasn’t the time or place to recall such things. Delia’s brown hair shone in the light of a nearby brazier. Flickering shadows highlighted her beautiful face.
In front of the couch was a woven rug of burgundy and gold. Thick drapes in similar colors hung across one wall, and Jake suspected they held the warmth in the room. A tapestry hung on another wall, the scene extolling nature and wild animals. All helped to keep the space pleasantly comfortable.
Delia sat up and pushed her fingers through her hair after divesting herself of her armor. The curls bounced right back into place. “Hat hair,” she griped. Jake looked too damn good in that brown wool tunic, girded with a thick leather belt studded with brass. His umber-colored hair was cut short, just as the Roman legions had theirs shorn.
Trying to ignore how her heart was pounding because of his unexpected entrance, she met his gaze. Did anything ever wipe that smile off his face? Delia thought not. Still, heat riffled through her body, especially her breasts, where his eyes had hotly lingered. Damn his masculinity. Why couldn’t she remain immune to him?
“We’re in,” Jake said quietly. He switched to English, which wouldn’t be understood by a slave who might be eavesdropping outside the door. Sitting down beside her, he ran his hand over the fabric. “Silk. Impressive. The rich lived well in Rome, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” Delia agreed, leaning against one curved side of the couch. She drew her legs up beneath her. “This domus is beautifully appointed and shows Servilia’s power and wealth. But then, she’s been Caesar’s pet for how many decades? He was known to be generous to those loyal to him.”
Nodding, Jake looked around the spacious apartment. There were ebony chairs upholstered with gold-and-burgundy fabric here and there. An ebony table had an exquisite mosaic of the head of the goddess Diana.
“I managed to get into Servilia’s mind a little,” he confided quietly.
“Really?” Delia sat up and curved her arms around her drawn-up legs. “What did you access?”
Grimacing, Jake said, “Nothing about the stamp. But she’s angry as hell about that attack.”
“How so?” Delia couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “I wonder if Servilia had a falling out with the dictator of Rome.”
“Well,” Jake offered, giving her a slight smile, “it’s complicated. Servilia thinks Queen Cleopatra, who is here in Rome with Caesar’s son, initiated and planned the actual attack against her. Servilia is green with jealousy toward the Egyptian queen, who is only twenty-one years old. Servilia wonders if Julius approved Cleopatra’s sending brigands against her.”
“Turf war,” Delia murmured, nodding. “So, do you think the queen set Servilia up?”
Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. But Servilia has demanded that Julius visit her tomorrow, to get answers.”
Rubbing her hands, Delia said, “Wow, we get to meet the Julius Caesar! That’s exciting!”
“Yes, it is.” Jake continued to study her in the muted light, which accented her face lovingly. He ached to reach out and slide his hand across her high cheekbone, feel the warmth and firmness of her skin. Forcing himself to focus, he added, “I’m sure Servilia will give Caesar an earful tomorrow. Whether or not she’ll accuse Cleopatra remains to be seen. Servilia has to be careful not to alienate the emperor. If she does, he might leave her and never return, and she couldn’t stand that. She doesn’t want to drive him completely into Cleopatra’s arms.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Delia shook her head and tried to ignore Jake’s nearness, which was proving impossible. His face was cast in shadows, and his beard, which was starting to grow in, made him look dangerous and sexy. No wonder Servilia was drawn to him. Hell, Delia was, too, but knew better than to go there…or did she?
“I did get one piece of information from her thoughts, though,” he said with a frown. “She’s going to the temple of Diana tomorrow night. She wants you to go with her. There was something about a secret meeting of powerful and influential Roman women that would take place there.”
Raising her brows, Delia said, “Could it have to do with the stamp, do you think?”
“Hard to tell. But I got the sense that this clande
stine meeting is important. And that Servilia is the high priestess of whatever ritual is scheduled.”
“That could be our clue. Maybe it does somehow involve the relic we’re looking for.”
The two of them gazed at each other thoughtfully.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked at last, studying Delia intently. Her gold eyes were bruised-looking and he knew she must be exhausted. He wanted to take her into his arms, but stopped himself.
“Tired. Hungry. Wanting that hot bath,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “How about you?” Seeing the warmth in his blue eyes, Delia felt her heart expand with quiet joy. As much as she’d fought taking this mission with Jake, she found herself secretly glad he’d come along.
Good thing he wasn’t reading her mind! Delia would know instantly if he tried such a thing, which would be beneath him, anyway.
“My hand is bruised from swinging that sword,” he admitted, flexing his fingers. “I’m not used to that kind of workout.”
“I dunno,” Delia said, “you look in pretty good shape to me.” Instantly, she regretted her throatily spoken words. Jake was clearly surprised by her compliment, and she saw a wicked gleam come into his eyes. “Now, don’t even think that was an invite, Tyler, because it wasn’t.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Damn, you are such a tease, Del.”
“I didn’t mean to be. The words just popped out of my mouth. I’ll be more careful next time around.”
“Don’t be. I like that you still see me as sexy.”
“That’s in the past, playboy. It’s been over between you and me for two years. Finished. Done. The end.”
Chuckling darkly, Jake stood up and rested his hands on his hips. “You’re such a liar,” he declared, gazing down at her blushing features. “But I like you despite that trait.”
“Get out of here, Tyler. You’re so full of yourself I can’t believe it.”
“Well,” he sighed, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth, “Servilia certainly finds me manly.” He flexed his biceps. “Reading her mind, I know she wants to invite me to her bed. But she’s got other fish to fry, like Caesar and Cleopatra, first.”
Time Raiders: The Seeker Page 5