The Master's Wall

by Sandi Rog

  Alethea clung to his tunic. “Where is he? When’s he coming?”

  David took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn’t like the answer. “He’s in Rome.” He’d told Galen to go to Rome and find Manius.

  Alethea slumped down. “Why? Why isn’t he here?”

  David couldn’t say more. He didn’t know what Galen had planned, and if one of them didn’t act soon, it would be too late. He had to find a way to appease her, something to give her hope. That’s when he changed his mind about his original plan. Why keep it a secret. If he failed, he would disappoint her, but she needed something to cling to. Besides, he wouldn’t fail. How many times had he been able to escape? This time, he had no reason to stay. He’d take her away from here and return her to her father. Where she belonged. Whatever happened to David after that, didn’t matter. Even if it meant death, he would find a way to get Alethea out of here.

  “I’m going to take you away from here. Before the wedding takes place.” There. He said it.

  The joy in her eyes matched that of learning that her father was alive. It sent a thrill right to his heart. Giggling, she hugged him. He put his arms around her. She kissed his forehead, his nose, his cheeks.

  David’s control snapped. He clasped her head in his hands. Her hair curled around his fingers, and he pulled her in.

  Alethea froze, her lips parting in a small gasp.

  David held her there, inches from his face. How long had he loved her? From the moment he first laid eyes on her every fiber in his being cried out to protect her, to shield her, to have her. He brought her closer. Her eyes closed in invitation, and he knew she longed for this as much as he did. Sweet jasmine filled his senses. Their breath mingled and he longed to taste her, to breathe her in. He brought her lips to his and her softness ignited a fire in his blood. He had to stop. But he didn’t want to. He kept kissing her, and she kissed him back. He could so easily take this too far. He must stop! Regretfully, he pulled away, breathing heavily.

  Alethea gazed up into his face. “God has answered both my prayers today,” she whispered. “Ever since you taught me how, I’ve been praying.” She grinned up into his face, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “Praying that God would bring Mpampas back to life.”

  David tried to bring his mind to her words, to pull his thoughts away from the force of his emotions. Did she say she’d prayed for God to bring her father to life? Of course, that shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. Where did she get the idea to pray for such a thing?

  Then she looked down, a tinge of pink coloring her cheeks. “And I’ve been praying that God would find a way for us to marry.”

  David froze. He thought he’d become used to her surprises. Marriage was impossible. He was a slave. There was no way for them to be legally bound. He never should have kissed her. However, for his own selfish reasons he wasn’t sorry. He’d never forget their first kiss. And their last.

  Let her believe.

  Let her learn the ugly truth when she was with her father. That way he could comfort her after David broke her heart.

  twenty-one

  Even after the joyful news, David could feel Alethea trembling in his arms as he carried her back through the gates of the villa. He walked between the guards who kept a lookout in the watchtowers. They didn’t stop him as he continued along the edge of the woods, past the stables, and up to the portico where Renata let out a loud cry when she spotted them coming toward her. She ran up to them, putting her hand on Alethea, but not saying a word, choking them back with her tears. Soon, Aloysius, Demetri, and Cornelia were there to meet them.

  David set Alethea down before her mother who stood motionless, not even offering a hand of comfort to her only daughter. David never understood the woman. Renata wrapped a cloak over Alethea’s trembling shoulders and began leading her away.

  Alethea stopped. She turned and looked right at him. “Thank you, David,” she said, her voice choking. She then allowed Renata to lead her away.

  David stood frozen, like the marble columns along the portico surrounding them. She’d called him by his name. His real name.

  Demetri straightened, his eyes wide with realization.

  Aloysius didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed Cornelia by the arm and jerked her along. “Why can’t you be a mother to the girl?” He shoved her ahead of him as they all turned to follow Renata and Alethea into the house.

  By now, Demetri’s eyes narrowed into slits, studying David. He motioned with his chin to David’s sword. “Why is there blood?” His voice was a forced calm.

  David took a deep breath. “She was attacked.”

  Demetri’s face paled.

  “There were three of them. Hiding in the trees near your place.”

  “You took care of them?” Demetri’s tone mounted with the fury in his gaze.

  “Yes.”

  Demetri nodded, continuing to study David, seeming to absorb his answer. “Did they touch her?”

  David wasn’t sure how to answer. Of course, they touched her. That’s what he just said. She was attacked.

  “How far did they get?” Demetri’s voice rose in command.

  David clenched his hands into fists, wanting to pound one in Demetri’s haughty face. “They didn’t,” was all David could bring himself to say.

  Demetri’s shoulders relaxed and he wiped his nose with the pad of his thumb. “I hope you weren’t expecting a reply to that letter you sent.”

  David gave him a questioning look.

  “I really didn’t think it appropriate that Bahiti act as your courier.” Demetri shrugged. “I rarely allow her out of my sight these days.”

  Now David understood why he’d never heard back from Manius. Apparently, Bahiti wasn’t able to find Manius to pass on a verbal message. He almost chuckled at Demetri’s comment about never letting her out of his sight, especially considering he was here and she was still in Rome. He knew without a doubt that she’d be meeting with the church.

  David turned to leave.

  “Yes.”

  David stopped and looked over his shoulder.

  “Yes.” Demetri raised a brow. “You may go. David.”

  Ω

  That night, a scream echoed off the walls throughout the villa, jolting David to his feet and charging, sword in hand, to the atrium. He’d been sitting in the courtyard, leaning against the wall, just below Alethea’s bedchamber window, and he’d fallen asleep. Another scream ricocheted through the house as he ran toward Alethea’s room. Vibia came stumbling out of the chamber, blanket pulled tight over her shoulders.

  “She’s having a nightmare,” Vibia said, scurrying as far away from the door as possible.

  David skidded to a stop. Dare he go in? He ached to be by Alethea’s side, but he didn’t dare go into her private chamber. As he stood by the door, contemplating what he should do, Portia and Cornelia whisked by him. He sighed and leaned against the door.

  Aloysius, pulling on a tunic and carrying a lamp, came up to him, Renata following close behind. “What happened?” he asked, voice groggy from sleep.

  “She had a nightmare.” Vibia, sitting on the edge of the fountain, motioned an irritated hand toward the room as if it was the stupidest thing she’d ever witnessed.

  “Because of the attack.” Aloysius looked at David, worry clouding his eyes. Then he narrowed them. “She never should have gone past the villa’s gates!” He began to pace.

  Portia came to the door. “She’s just frightened. She’s not been harmed.”

  “Don’t leave me alone!” Alethea cried.

  “You’re no longer needed, Portia,” Cornelia called from the chamber.

  Portia looked back into the room, then at the others, and then back again, clearly unsure what to do.

  “Go check on Paulus.”

  Portia glanced one last time into the room, pulled her cloak tight, and left them all.

  “All is well. I’m here.” Cornelia’s voice carried to their ears. So foreign, since David, nor an
y of them for that matter, ever heard her speak in a motherly tone.

  “Please! I want Damonus.” Alethea’s voice broke into sobs. “He’ll keep me safe.”

  “I’ll stay with you, dear.”

  “Why now, mother? You’ve never been here for me before.” Alethea cried.

  Cornelia came to the door of the chamber, trembling hands on the doorposts. “I’ll sleep here tonight. Vibia, you may sleep in my chamber.”

  Renata nodded her approval. She took Vibia under her arm and led her away. Aloysius followed, but stopped and swung around. “Damonus. Stand guard at her door tonight. Make her feel safe.”

  David bowed. “Yes, master.”

  The night wore on as David stood guard outside Alethea’s bedchamber. She’d finally calmed down as her mother shushed her to sleep. He’d never witnessed Cornelia act in a motherly fashion to Alethea until this night. What caused the change? Was it Aloysius’s rebuke?

  “David?” Alethea whispered from her chamber.

  David straightened by the door. “I’m here.”

  “Please don’t go.”

  He closed his eyes against the pain in his chest. He ought to just carry her away tonight. Take her to Galen right now. But Cornelia was in the chamber. They’d never get far, unless he incapacitated her, but he couldn’t bring himself to harm a woman.

  “I’m right here,” he whispered back, his voice hoarse.

  “Sing to me, David.”

  He cringed every time she said his real name. But they’d be leaving soon. Besides that, Demetri wasn’t around to hear it. Not that it mattered, since he now suspected something between David and Alethea. He’d left immediately after David brought Alethea back. David wondered where he was going with the wedding day drawing so near.

  Now David wanted to kick himself. He should have taken Alethea to Galen the moment he decided to take her away from here. He never should have reentered the gates of the villa. He should have taken her straight to Rome. However, everyone was already searching for Alethea, so they likely would have caught up to them, and then where would she be? He’d be dead, and she’d be without hope. Perhaps it was good that he brought her back. At least now, she could bid her family farewell. If not literally, at least in her mind, in her heart. Tomorrow, first thing, he’d take her away from here.

  “Please, David.”

  “What?” he whispered into the darkness, knowing Cornelia could hear every exchange.

  “Sing to me.”

  David shook his head. “I can’t sing.”

  Alethea cried, sniffling into her cushions.

  “Fine.” He clenched his teeth at the thought of singing where her mother could hear. But he knew it’d comfort Alethea. So, quietly

  . . . he sang.

  Ω

  David couldn’t stand still any longer. It would have to be now or not at all. If only he’d had time to prepare, make a plan he knew would work. After a lot of deliberation, he realized the best time to escape was now. In the middle of the night.

  Despite Alethea’s shock after what happened, he knew her family would busy her in the morning with wedding preparations, and she’d never be able to leave their sight. If he tried to sneak her away during their ministrations, she’d surely be missed. They’d send out search parties and a hunt would ensue. He could wait the night before the wedding, but he felt uneasy about waiting that long. They might keep a more vigilant watch over her during that last night for fear she might try to run. He couldn’t risk that chance.

  Taking a deep breath, David crept into Alethea’s chamber. Two beds lay against opposite walls. The steady breathing of each woman filled the quiet air. David knelt over Alethea, taking care that his sword didn’t scrape against the tiled floor. Alethea rested peacefully in the moonlight. He hated waking her, disturbing the brief calm the night allowed. He’d have to wake her carefully so as not to startle her, or her mother might also awaken.

  Alethea’s dark hair tumbled over the pillow and onto the bed, free of the thick braid he saw her wearing every morning on the way to the baths. Some black wisps framed her face, and her long lashes rested like motionless butterflies against her cheeks. He longed to touch her, mourning the fact that she’d never be his. He brought his hand up to her face, tenderly brushing his fingertips from her temple to her lips. Perfect lips he longed to kiss.

  She smiled and stirred. “David,” she whispered.

  He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Cornelia was still breathing evenly, deep in sleep.

  Alethea’s eyes fluttered open, just like the black butterflies they resembled. She stretched and yawned. “I could smell you, your wonderful scent.” She settled back down, but then her eyes shot open, fully awake now. “What are you doing in here?”

  David glanced over at Cornelia again. She didn’t stir.

  “We have to go,” he whispered. “I’m taking you to your father.”

  Alethea gasped, but quickly covered her mouth, glancing over at her mother. “Now?” she said.

  “Now is the best time.” David stood, fighting the temptation to help her out of bed, but he didn’t dare touch her in this state. “I’ll meet you in the atrium. Hurry.”

  They’d need food. He left her chamber to sneak into the kitchen. He found some wine rolls and cheese. He grabbed enough for the two of them and stuffed them into a sackcloth hanging from one of the pegs on the wall. He found a small flask of wine and stuffed that in as well.

  When he crept back into the atrium, Alethea stood outside her chamber, leaning her tired body against the wall. She tugged on her cloak, a light fabric that framed her curves. She tightened it around her neck. It would never do. If he took her on the road looking like a little rich girl, they were sure to be robbed or attacked. She’d have to wear one of the servant’s cloaks. The simple, brown wool wouldn’t attract undue attention. He could get one of the younger boy’s cloaks. It’d be much better if she looked like a boy. He rushed away to do that. When he returned with everything in hand, he wrapped the boyish cloak over Alethea and pulled the hood over her head. Her nose crinkled, but she didn’t complain. He kept his own cloak over his arm with the sackcloth in his hand and led her to the atrium doors.

  David opened the doors, just far enough for them to squeeze through. The cool, night air swept over his skin, like a welcoming blanket easing the tension in his taut body. He led Alethea silently into the woods, grateful for the moon that lit their path between the familiar trees. They reached the wall, and David helped Alethea up into the big pine. He followed right behind her. When they reached the top, he tossed the sackcloth and his cloak on the other side of the wall and helped her down.

  After her feet touched the ground, she turned into his arms. “This hardly seems real. You have no idea how often I’ve dreamt of this.”

  David held her close, praying that they’d make it safely to Rome. He couldn’t fail her. He slipped on his cloak and tied the sackcloth around her waist. He dared not explain to her that he needed her to hold it in case he needed to fight. Thankfully, she didn’t protest or remark about it.

  He guided them along the wall. When they reached the road, he pulled up both their hoods, and kept her on his left side with his right hand on the hilt of his sword. “It’s best not to talk,” he whispered to her as they hurried along. He didn’t want thieves to hear her feminine voice. “Pretend you’re a boy,” he whispered again.

  “How do I do that?”

  “Don’t sway your hips.”

  “What? I didn’t know they were swaying.”

  David cringed as he looked down at her. There was no way anybody in their right mind would think she was a boy. “Just stop swaying them,” he said.

  “Is this better?”

  He moved slightly behind her to take a look. Bad idea. He never should have set his eyes on her. “No.”

  “How’s this?” She straightened, but that did nothing to hide her hips.

  “No.” He shook his head.

  She stopped, tos
sing her chin up. “Then what do you suggest?”

  “Hold your cloak open a bit. That might help.”

  She opened her cloak and began walking.

  David sighed. Maybe it was because he knew Alethea hid under that mass of wool that it didn’t matter what she did, she’d never resemble a boy in his eyes. He simply nodded, and they started walking again.

  Ω

  Just as they left the forest behind them, David relaxed his hold on his sword. They’d made it without incident. Now if they could just reach the gates to Rome. The sun’s rays lanced over the horizon, casting his and Alethea’s shadow over the road in front of them.

  “Are you hungry?” David whispered the first words since leaving the forest.

  “No.” Alethea shook her head.

  David wasn’t hungry either. Perhaps it was the desperation he felt to reach Rome’s gates.

  “I can’t believe I’m finally going to see him.”

  David knew she meant her father. “We’re not there yet.” He still feared failure. He didn’t dare get his, let alone, her hopes up.

  She frowned up at him.

  “Do you have any regrets?” He kept his gaze on hers, fearing he might catch a hint of disappointment.

  “Not at all.” She shook her head, determination on her face.

  David sighed with relief. But they still hadn’t made it. If he failed, they’d both feel regret.

  As the sun rose, they reached the Via Labicana where green fields lit up like emeralds and blue fields of flax glinted like sapphires along the road. The square gate came into view, and David’s heart pounded a little faster. He glanced down at Alethea, a grin on his face. She smiled up at him beneath the hood of her cloak.

  “Pull back your hood.” He didn’t want them to look like they were trying to hide who they were. If they looked confident, the guards at the gate wouldn’t think anything of the two of them walking alone. Perhaps they’d think they were just a couple, heading into the city for the day’s market.

  They both pulled back their hoods, David putting on a confident air, something that came naturally for Alethea. There weren’t as many people as David had expected in order to lose themselves in the crowd.