by Sandi Rog
Little by little, he brought his knuckles toward her cheek as if he wished to touch her but didn’t dare. His hand trembled, and . . . she waited. His smoky blue eyes drank in her face as they focused on loose tendrils curling against her cheeks and then her mouth. Without touching her, he ran his knuckles down her cheek and then her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
She shivered from the impact.
He placed both hands against the wall, encasing her in his strong arms, and he leaned in closer. She breathed in his scent. Sweat. Pine. His lips hovered over hers, his breath mingling with her own. He held steady, hovering over her mouth, desire and heat emanating between them.
His nearness sent waves of heat to every limb of her body, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she feared she might melt into the wall before they came together.
“David,” she whispered, aching for him to touch her, to kiss her.
A light came to his eyes, and as if awakening from a dream, he pushed away.
Abandoned, she wanted to grab him, to yank him back to her, but she didn’t dare touch him, no more than he dared to touch her. Would they even be able to stop if they did embrace? It would be like flint striking stone. One brush of contact would ignite flames between them.
Growling, he raked his hands through his hair, his chest heaving. He paced like a cat wanting to escape the confines of a cage. Suddenly, he turned and punched a wooden beam. She jumped from the fierceness of his thrust, the crack of the wood echoing in the silence, echoing in her heart. Without a word, he stormed away.
Still leaning against the wall, she gulped in a breath. Cold air chilled her, as if a blanket had been ripped off her warm body. She pushed away, her legs wobbly. In a daze, she touched the beam, running her trembling fingertips along the prickly splinters. Shattered by the same fist that dared not caress her cheek.
Breathless, she ran after him.
He marched out of the stables, cloaked by the shadows of the dark night.
Watching him go, she felt as though he were taking a part of her with him, a piece of herself she could never reclaim again, for she’d never shared such an intimate moment with a man. Now, he left her there, empty and unfulfilled. She leaned against the doorframe, pressing her back against it for support. Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, David.” Her hoarse voice carried after him, only to die in the darkness as he left her alone.
twenty
They were being watched.
David kept his hand near the hilt of his sword, scanning the trees. He motioned for the caravan to keep moving as he led the way. The mule behind him swayed with their belongings in the quiet air. A number of slaves followed behind the mule, while Titus followed the newly purchased slaves in the back. David focused on the sounds, trying to pick up on unfamiliar voices in the woods. The sun stood straight up in the sky as they trudged along the gravel road, the crunching of the mule’s hooves echoing off the nearby trees.
Beyond the woods, after passing approximately four mile-markers, they would come upon the Vibian Hill. David kept his eyes on the trees. They were a wealthy caravan, so if someone wanted to ambush them, they’d do it while surrounded by forest. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
After taking care of business in Rome, they were heading back to the villa. While in Rome, David never found an opportunity to find Manius again, and he didn’t try because he didn’t want to ruin the good reputation he’d rebuilt. Besides, he knew all he needed to know. Sarah was alive. But was she well? Was she with Manius?
He’d wanted to locate Bahiti, but never did. He’d sent a letter with her for Manius, but she must not have ever found him. Unfortunately, Demetri never again brought her and Alexander to the villa after that first time.
A flock of birds rocketed to the sky.
“Halt!” David grabbed the hilt of his sword, watching from where the birds had fled. Up ahead along the road, a glimpse of white caught his eye as it moved from one tree to the next. It was one man. One thief. Dare he try to rob such a large caravan alone?
Sword in hand, David sprinted toward the stranger. The man turned to run. David closed in fast, charging into the forest. The man’s tunic wasn’t that far ahead, and David knew he could catch him. Dodging trees and leaping branches, he neared the intruder. The man’s breathing came hard and he glanced over his shoulder. The man tripped and hit the dirt hard, landing on his side. He quickly rolled to his back, but David pinned him on the ground with his sword.
Sweat covered the man’s brow and his chest heaved.
David froze with the tip of his blade on the man’s chest.
Piercing blue eyes looked up at David, and dark curly hair clung to his frightened face. A leather band wrapped around his head.
David stood over the man in silence. He knew Titus would remain with the caravan just in case this was a distraction for an ambush. The man carried no weapons. So, he must have been the pawn. But there were no signs of other thieves. David felt certain this was the only one. Why would this man take on an entire caravan on his own, and without a weapon? His tunic was clean, so he wasn’t needy. And the muscles in the man’s chest, arms, and legs told him he was no beggar.
David must have stood there for a long while, analyzing the situation because the man finally opened his mouth to speak.
“Aren’t you going to kill me?”
“My God won’t allow it.” Still, David kept the point of his sword on his chest.
The man studied him. “One God?”
David nodded.
“We must worship the same God.”
“My God condemns thievery.” David moved his sword to the man’s throat.
“I’m not a thief.” The man held his gaze. “I come to take back what is mine.”
So, he wasn’t a thief, and yet he came to take. How did that make any sense?
“Is she there now? With the caravan?”
“Who?”
“Cornelia. My wife. My children are Alethea and Paulus.” The man took a deep breath despite David’s sword. “My name is Galen Aletheos.”
David staggered back, his sword at his side. “You’re her father?”
“You know them.” Galen’s narrowed gaze was confident, despite the fact that he lay helpless on the ground.
David shook his head, unbelieving, then quickly nodded. “Yes,” he finally said, barely able to get the words past his constricting throat, nearly dropping his sword at his feet.
“They’re alive?” Galen sat up. “They’re well?”
David nodded, speechless.
Relief reflected from Galen’s face and tears pooled in his blue eyes.
Ω
David looked everywhere for Alethea. After a week of helping Titus appoint the new slaves in the vineyards, David finally had time to talk to Alethea. He hadn’t seen much of her since he’d been back, since he’d been in the vineyards. Titus was still busy, so now David took advantage of his free time. He searched for Alethea in the atrium, peristyle, outdoor courtyard, and the woods. He knew all her favorite haunts, but there was no sign of her. The only other place would be the baths, and he couldn’t go in there. And if she wasn’t in there, he dreaded to think where else she might be. He had hoped her wall-hopping days had come to an end.
David wandered back into the atrium, thinking, hoping Alethea might reappear.
“We looked everywhere.” Renata stood before Aloysius, the tension in his stance obvious. “The baths, the gardens, even the stables. She’s nowhere to be found.”
Aloysius’s face turned red. “When I get my hands on that girl—” He clenched his fists and paced. That’s when he spotted David. “Damonus.”
David straightened. “Yes, master.”
“Go find mistress Alethea.” He waved him away.
David bowed and left. There was only one place she could be, and if he found her there, he’d throttle her himself. Sword hanging at his side, David ran straight to the woods. Galen’s leathe
r headband, wound several times around his wrist, shook from the swing of his arms. Ahead, the large pine loomed up over the wall. He didn’t want to take the time to climb the tree, so he raced straight for the wall as he’d done so many times in the past. The sword slapped against his side as he picked up speed. He’d have to watch himself with it. He reached the wall and used all his momentum to jump up. His sandals, damp from the forest ground, gave him traction as he climbed upward. He easily reached the top, surprised he could still do it. Standing on top of the wall, he scanned the clearing and the distant trees. No sign of Alethea. He leaped down onto the mound of dirt and ran for the woods on the other side of the clearing.
He came to the pond and knew that was where Alethea had been baptized, where so many of the slaves had been immersed into Christ. He charged along the stream, crossed over, and ran up the bank. He ran through the forest until he broke through the pines and found himself standing in an open field facing Alethea’s former home. Only her old house no longer stood there. In its place was a small unfinished villa with walled-in corrals. Demetri and Aloysius had been spending a lot of time here. Now he knew why. Alethea would be devastated.
That’s when he spotted her. She stood in the distance, not far from the edge of the woods, with her hands over her face. He knew she was crying.
He ambled toward her, aching to take her in his arms, aching to take her away from this place.
A large man leaped out of the trees and grabbed her from behind, his beefy arms wrapping around her small torso.
“Stop!” Unsheathing his sword, David charged toward them.
Alethea kicked and screamed. The man put his hand over her mouth, swung her around, and disappeared with her into the trees.
Fear rushed through David’s veins. The feeling was all too familiar, and he couldn’t shake the images of his mother when Aulus had his hands on her.
He came to the opening in the trees and found a man hovering over Alethea on the ground, pulling on her clothes. Another held her arms above her head. She screamed. Fury pounded David’s temples. He side kicked the man on all fours in the ribs, and he rolled off her.
“Run!” David shouted at Alethea. She ran as he swung his sword at another oncoming man. There were three. A fat one on the ground, and two standing—one tall, one bald. David sliced open the tall man coming at him; lines of blood streaked across his chest. The man buckled. The bald one swung his sword. David dodged the blade and fought like he’d never fought before. Blood splattered, only emphasizing the red vision that raged through his mind. He had only one goal. To punish these men for harming Alethea. To punish them like he wanted to punish Aulus for raping his mother. And he’d make them pay for it all.
Using his own blade, David ducked and pushed the bald man’s sword in the direction it swung. David side kicked him and ended with a brutal slice to the groin. The man cried out and slumped to the ground.
The fat one came at him from behind. David took the hilt of his sword and plunged it into the man’s face. He staggered back, and David raised his sword to finish him off. But the man dropped to the ground. David hovered over him and kicked him below the waist. He’d make sure these men would never rape another woman.
David swung around, ready for the tall one to attack. The man’s terrified eyes took in the bloodbath before him, and seeing that his comrades lay motionless on the ground, he turned and fled. David went after him. He launched himself onto the man and they crashed into a tree. David pounded him and slammed his head into the trunk, bashing his skull over and over again. The man passed out, and that’s when David stopped. Still gripping the man’s hair in his fist, David stood up and let him crumple at his feet. The man lay still on the pine needles. Too still. Had David killed him? Horror shuddered down his spine, and only then did he take in the carnage around him. Three bodies lay lifeless between the trees. He waited for their chests to rise. Two were breathing. He knelt over the man at his feet and felt for his breath. Warm air came from his mouth and nose. Relief gushed forth. Still alive.
David sheathed his sword and ran after Alethea. Just as he reached the stream, he spotted her running along the other side. Crying, she stumbled and dropped to her knees. The thought of what those men could have done to her made him shudder. David caught up to her and lifted her off the ground.
“No!” She swung at him.
“It’s me!” he shouted.
She clawed his arms.
“I’m not going to hurt you. It’s me! David.”
The fight went out of her, and he turned her to face him.
“David!” She clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
He lifted her and carried her away from the stream. As he held her, she wept on his shoulder, her body trembling. He cut between the trees, away from the water, away from the clearing, and settled on the ground with her in his lap. And that’s when David noticed his own body shaking. He couldn’t make it stop. He’d nearly lost her. She’d looked so small, so helpless beneath that huge man. So much like his mother had looked with Aulus’s hands on her. The thought sent renewed tremors of rage through his system.
David grabbed her shoulders, taking in every part of her, her face, her arms. “Are you well?” he asked, his voice choking.
She nodded, then wrapped her trembling arms around him again, sobbing.
He hugged her, holding her close, running his hand down her small back. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” The thought of those men touching her made him squeeze her tighter to his chest. He fisted his hand in the ends of her tangled hair. “Ever.”
He held her that way until her crying subsided into small sniffles. She loosened her hold on him and curled more into his lap, laying her head on his chest. He held her there, afraid to let her ago, afraid of what could have happened to her. They didn’t speak. The only sounds were the birds in the trees and the occasional scurrying of a squirrel or a chipmunk.
“I can’t go back to Grandfather’s,” she whispered against his chest. “I’m not safe there, and I’m not safe at Mpampas’s home either.” She cried again and moved in closer. “I’m only safe with you.” She clung to him, his tunic in her clenched fists. “I don’t want to go back, David. Please don’t take me back.”
“What happened?” What had he missed? He’d only been gone a couple of weeks, but in this household, he never knew what might happen next. Had Demetri touched her? A shudder of rage—and what he would do—ricocheted through his body.
“In two days, I’ll be forced to marry Demetri.” She wept again into his tunic.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No. But he will.” She squealed. “I can’t marry him, David. I just can’t.”
David felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. The thought of her belonging to any man other than himself made him want to hit something. Hard. He knew this day would come, sooner than later. He’d hoped to have found a way out of this place before then, a way according to the law. Now he’d have to escape with the master’s granddaughter. He shook his head. If he ever got caught, it’d be his death. And even worse, what would become of her? What kind of man would put her in such danger? But he had to get her away from this place. Then a thought struck him. Of course. He could take her to Galen. He squeezed her tight. That’s what he’d do. But he couldn’t tell her. He didn’t want to get her hopes up, just in case he failed. He didn’t dare fail. The thought made him want to slam his fist into the tree next to him. He was her only hope. What could he do or say to put her at ease until then?
That’s when he remembered the headband wrapped around his wrist. As her trembling subsided, he untied it and then inched away from her. With red eyes, she looked up at him, continuing to cling to his tunic. He let the band dangle between them.
She saw it. “Oh.” In an obvious daze, she patted her hair. “It must have fallen out.” When her fingers touched the band that was still twisted in her hair, she looked up at David, questions in her eyes.
“He’s alive.” They were the only words he could force past his constricting throat.
He watched her face as she studied the band. She took it between her trembling fingers and brought it to her nose. Her eyes widened and she shook all over.
She pounced against him, clinging to his neck. “Where is he? When’s he coming? Where’d you find him? How’d it happen? Does Grandfather know? Is that why he wants to rush the wedding? Oh, David!” She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes lit up with joy, a joy he’d never before this day seen shining in those brown orbs. “He’s alive!” She hugged him, squeezing herself against him, and that’s when David began to awaken to the close proximity of their bodies.
He held her away, though she was still in his lap.
“Is he coming, David? How can this be? How?”
“We were returning from Rome and I thought I saw a thief. I went after him, and that’s when he said who he was.” He took a deep breath, preparing to tell her the whole story, at the same time, fighting off the temptation she’d become in his lap. “Your grandfather meant to kill him, but it didn’t work. The horse dragged him away, but it stopped not far from the road. He was nearly dead when someone found him. Whoever it was picked him up and sold him to the highest bidder. After years of being sold and resold, a Christian jeweler purchased him. When the jeweler heard his story, he set him free to reclaim his family.” David ran his hand through his hair, needing to set Alethea away from him, but unable to bring himself to hurt her feelings. “That’s all I had time to find out.”
Trying to avoid her scent, her softness, David glanced away from her as she took in what he’d just said. He looked down and noticed his bloody sword and the blood on his tunic. So different from his encounter with Galen. He hadn’t shed any blood on that day.