by Carol Ashby
She pressed her palm to her cheek. He hadn’t told her the truth when he said he was well enough to take her home. She should have believed her own eyes, not his words, but she hadn’t wanted to wait another day to find out whether Father would grant her heart’s desire for him...and for her.
She turned to Servilia. “When will he be like he was before?”
Servilia’s eyes glistened. “Never.”
Calantha’s breath caught. “But you said you’d seen men hurt much worse go back to battle in only three months.”
“Oh, his leg will heal, but he’ll never be the same. I saw his face as he held you. When you came to me, he was your litter slave and content to be that. Now he’s in love with you, and that’s the worst thing that could have happened.”
“Why do you say that? I can’t think of anything better.”
Servilia’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen to him? No slave is permitted to love the master’s daughter. Your father will know the moment he sees you together. Dacius is too honest to fool anyone, and he won’t even try if your father asks. If you can’t convince your father that he never touched you, he’ll end up dead or wishing he was within the week.”
Calantha shook her head emphatically. “No, Father is not that kind of man. I’ve never lied to him, and he’ll believe me when I tell him what happened. I know what he’s going to do to Leander because I’m going to ask him to do what he ought to. Father will agree with me, and then I’ll ask him for what I really want.”
Chapter 64: Worthy of Trust
The Secundus villa
For the hundredth time, Dacius paused and massaged his throbbing thigh. It had taken half again as long as when he carried Cal…Mistress Julia to the baths, but at last, the ornately carved threshold of the Secundus villa stood before him.
He squared his shoulders and assumed the posture of master, not slave. With his jaw clenched against the pain, he focused on taking steady, even steps toward the doorkeeper.
The man bowed his head. “Welcome to―” His brow furrowed as he looked at Dacius’s sandals. “The entrance for trade is that way.” He pointed along the wall that led to the stable gate.
“I’m here for the salutation.”
The doorkeeper moved to block his way.
“I’m here on behalf of Egnatius Marcellinus.”
With eyes shifting between the sandals and Servilia’s cloak, the doorkeeper took his measure, then stepped aside. “Speak with Master Secundus’s secretary about your request.”
Dacius assumed the proud look he’d seen so many times on Marcus Drusus and walked in.
His eyes swept the atrium with its mosaic floor of animal fights and battling men and its marble pool with statues on pedestals down its center. Paintings of mountains and gardens lined the walls. Everything declared the wealth and importance of its owner.
Ahead were more than forty men, some standing, some seated on the benches lining the walls. They were mostly in togas, several with purple stripes. So many…even if the master only spoke a few words with most of them, it could be hours before it was his turn. Not one looked less important than him.
It could be dark before he could give her father the letter and bring him to the baths. Would Mistress Julia be safe?
A middle-aged man with a toga and a harried expression approached him. “Your business with Julius Secundus?”
Again, he was inspected from cloak to sandals and came up lacking.
God, open the way for me. Let her father read and respond as she hopes.
He pulled the rolled papyrus from inside his tunic. “I have an urgent message on behalf of Egnatius Marcellinus, and I must deliver it in person.”
The secretary reached for it, and Dacius raised it over his head. He assumed his best impression of Marcus Drusus. “I said in person. The matter is highly confidential. Marcellinus would not want me to be kept waiting.”
The secretary blinked twice, then tipped his head. “Follow me.”
As they walked past the clusters of clients to the first position by the closed door, Dacius fought a smile. Marcus Drusus would never know how he’d helped his friend’s sister, whether he wanted to or not.
The door opened, and a man exited with head bowed and mouth grim. The hairs on the back of Dacius’s neck quivered. Calantha called him the lion who protected her, but the father of Mistress Julia was a true lion of Rome, and he’d just taken a bite out of the man before him.
The secretary paused in the doorway and, with a flick of his hand, invited Dacius into the lion’s den.
“A messenger from Egnatius Marcellinus.” The secretary led Dacius forward and stopped ten feet from the man who had just ruled a province.
Secundus sat on a throne-like chair on a raised platform. The portrait masks of generations of Julii Secundii lined the walls.
The eyes taking Dacius’s measure were emotionless. “If it’s so urgent, why did Marcellinus send a messenger who can barely walk?”
Dacius stood as straight as he could while keeping some weight off his right leg. “It’s a matter of extreme sensitivity for your eyes and ears only.”
Secundus’s eyes narrowed, and the long silence made Dacius’s skin crawl.
“Flip back your cloak and raise your arms.”
An odd command, but Dacius obeyed, holding the papyrus high.
The secretary stepped close and felt for a hidden dagger. “Unarmed.”
“Then you may leave us.”
The secretary left the room, and the door latched behind him.
With a face as cold as the masks on the wall, Secundus held out his hand. “The message.”
Lightning bolts of pain ripped through Dacius’s thigh with his first step. He placed the roll on his master’s palm and stepped back.
After loosening the first yarn tie, Secundus glanced up at Dacius. “You can go.”
Dacius drew a deep breath. “An immediate response is required.”
Secundus’s mouth turned down as he removed the second and third ties. As he began to read the letter from the daughter he must have thought dead, the mask of the politician fell away. She’d told Dacius what she wrote, and the contents of each line were written on her father’s face. Joyful shock as he realized she was alive. Concern over her insistence that he tell no one before he came to see her. His eyes bored into Dacius when he hit the part about going alone with the man who brought the letter and he would bring Secundus to her.
When her father finished reading, he rolled the papyrus and waved it at Dacius. “Do you know what is in this?”
“Yes, and I’m ready to take you where you need to go.”
Secundus’s eyebrows dipped. “How far?”
“It took me almost two hours to get here.”
Secundus slipped the papyrus inside his tunic. “With that leg, you can’t make that walk again today. Can you ride?”
“Yes.” Dacius’s neck muscles tensed. If they rode, would they have to enter the stable yard? In his merchant’s disguise, would anyone there recognize him?
He took a deep breath and relaxed. People see what they expect, and a litter slave who’s considered a runaway wouldn’t be expected to return walking at the side of the master. He was an ordinary looking man, except for maybe his hair color, and anyone seeing him would assume he was there on business. It should be safe enough.
Secundus rose from his chair and strode to the door. He opened it, and his secretary hurried over.
“An urgent matter has arisen. Send them all home.” Before the secretary could speak, he closed the door. He walked to a tapestry of men in battle and pulled it aside to reveal a doorway.
“Follow me.”
The short hallway led to a door that opened into the garden. Dacius was finally in a part of the villa he recognized. The new reflecting pool had been finished, and the bank of rose bushes had been planted on the dirt he’d helped move.
T
hey entered the stable yard, and Dacius relaxed. The only person there was a stable slave he didn’t recognize carrying a bucket of water toward Niger’s stall.
As the man unlatched the stall door, her father’s voice pulled his gaze away.
“There’s a placid mare that should suit you.”
“I can ride whatever you want to put me on.”
The whinny from Niger’s stall made him regret those words. With a loud thud, the stallion hit the door, knocking it open and sending the stable slave sprawling. As the man rolled into a ball, he screamed, covering his head as Niger thundered past.
The stallion paused, looking for the friend who belonged to that voice, then trotted over to Dacius. He nickered and bumped his head against Dacius’s chest, demanding attention.
Dacius obliged by stroking his nose, then his blaze, but the damage was done. His disguise had failed.
Vilicus charged through the second archway to the garden. “What’s going on?” His gaze locked on Dacius. “It’s you!”
Two garden slaves entered behind him. Vilicus pointed and yelled, “Grab him.”
As they ran toward Dacius, Niger shied away and started pacing the stable yard.
The two men grabbed Dacius’s arms, and he offered no resistance. His leg wouldn’t let him escape even if he tried.
God, deliver me. Please don’t let me fail her.”
The brass handle on Vilicus’s whip glinted in the sun as he raised his arm to strike.
“Stop.”
Secundus’s single word froze Vilicus’s arm. Then the overseer’s fists rammed into his hips. “But this is the slave who vanished during the kidnapping. Tribune Titianus will take this one, and the torturers can get what he’s done with the mistress out of him.”
Secundus’s hand clamped on Dacius’s jaw and forced his chin up. Merciless eyes burned with anger, driving daggers of fear into him.
“Are you that slave?” The menace in Secundus’s voice twisted those daggers, but he could only answer with the truth.
“I am, but I was not one of the kidnappers. The letter explains everything.”
With eyes narrowed, Secundus released Dacius’s jaw with a jerk. Then he rubbed his lip. Dacius met his gaze, desperately praying that he would believe the words of his daughter in the letter, not the accusation of the overseer standing before him.
A quick tip of his head, and Secundus stepped back. “If he’d been one of Julia’s kidnappers, he would never return here. Release him, and get back to your work.” He directed a frown toward Vilicus, who made no move to leave. “You, too.”
The slaves shuffled back through the archway, and Vilicus followed.
Secundus turned his attention to the stable slave, who was keeping a good distance between himself and the pacing Niger. “Fetch Taurus and saddle my stallion and two mares.”
With a frightened glance at Niger, he scurried off to get Taurus first.
Dacius clucked, and Niger trotted over for another nose rub.
Her father walked to a bench by the entrance to the villa. As he unwrapped his toga and piled the many feet of fabric on the bench, he glanced over his shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“In your household, I’m called Dacius.”
Still marked as a senator by the broad purple stripes on his tunic, Secundus returned to Dacius’s side. Even wearing only a tunic, her father projected Roman power, and standing too close was unnerving.
“Gallio bought me for the stable. I’ll get the horses ready.”
The big stallion followed him like a puppy to the bay mare’s stall. He led her out, and Niger nosed his back several times as he saddled her.
“You’re a pest, you are.” He rubbed the stallion’s blaze, then slipped his fingers into his forelock and pulled them through.
When Taurus and the stable man appeared, Dacius pointed at the largest mare. “That one for Taurus.”
The German paused at Dacius’s side. His smile started small and grew. “Welcome back. I knew Primus was lying.”
“Where is he?”
“Sold with the other two.” He lowered his voice. “No mistress, no need for litter slaves.”
Taurus reached to stroke Niger, and the horse backed off with a snort. “Still suspicious of me. I sometimes give him carrots, like you used to. He’s almost friendly then.”
The stable man led the master’s stallion from its stall to saddle, and Niger’s ears flattened. Dacius gripped his halter. “No fights for you today.” He led him back to his stall and slapped his rump to send him in. As Dacius latched the half-door, Niger hung his head over for one more nose rub.
He turned to find Secundus and Taurus mounted. So he wouldn’t have to swing his bad leg over the horse’s rump, he mounted the bay mare from the right-hand side.
As soon as he settled into the saddle, Secundus moved beside him. “You know horses. They’re all afraid of that black stallion.”
Dacius nudged the mare into a walk and turned toward the baths after they passed through the gate.
“That’s why Gallio bought me―to train Niger so your son could ride him.”
“How did you end up carrying Julia?”
“A small fire in some straw frightened him. He trampled one of her bearers. Vilicus used me the next day because I was the right height, and Gallio decided not to replace the dead man.”
Secundus’s soft snort accompanied a half-smile. “A fortunate chain of events for her. I haven’t seen my son since I returned. Can he ride that stallion?”
Dacius fought a smile. “Not yet, but I’ll get Niger to where he can.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Can anyone else?”
“Not yet, but―”
“You’ll get him to where they can.” Secundus’s half-smile grew to full. “You do have a way with horses.”
Dacius’s own slight smile was accompanied by a shrug. “And with mules, once they trust me.”
Secundus eyed him. “Trust can be hard to earn.”
“I earn a mule’s trust by being trustworthy.”
Secundus’s voice hardened. “And how is it my daughter trusts you so much? She’s been missing a month.”
Dacius glanced over his shoulder at Taurus two horse-lengths behind them and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I earned her trust the same way.”
“Hmph.”
They rode on in silence.
The Baths of Trajan and Titus
As they approached the entrance to the Baths of Trajan, Dacius glanced at Tiberius Secundus. “We need to leave Taurus here with the horses.”
Secundus turned cool eyes on him. “Since my daughter trusts you so much, perhaps I can dispense with the bodyguard.”
Dacius reined in and slipped from his horse. “We walk from here.”
Secundus snapped his fingers, and Taurus rode up. “Wait here.” He dismounted, handed both their reins to Taurus, and turned toward Dacius. “Will we be long?”
“It’s close.”
One step, and his leg almost buckled. He’d tried to ride relaxed, not gripping too much with his knees, but it hadn’t been enough for his thigh to recover.
“This way.” With eyes focused on the entrance steps, he led his owner toward the reunion both father and daughter wanted. Secundus projected emotionless power, but Calantha loved him deeply. Beneath his haughty manner, there might be a man worthy of that love. A man whose love matched her own.
He took them in the front entrance, then out a back door that opened onto the space between the two bath complexes.
Almost there. He closed his eyes and asked God for one more measure of strength. Even with his jaw clamped, each step brought a grimace.
“You’re in no shape for this. Walk slower.” Secundus’s tone had warmed. “Why didn’t we ride back here?”
“I don’t want to risk anyone but you seeing her. No one must know she’s here.”
Her
father’s head pulled back. “Her escort knows we came to the baths.”
“If you tell Taurus to say nothing, he’s a man who can be trusted with a secret.”
A skeptical smile lifted the corner of Secundus’s mouth. “So, you think you know men as well as you do horses?”
“Some men. Trust is earned by being trustworthy.” He glanced at her father, then away. “But torture can force a secret from the best of men or make them tell lies to end it.”
“If Julia is waiting for me, you won’t have to find out which describes you.”
Dacius’s jaw clenched as he took the next step, but it wasn’t the pain that triggered it. Then he caught the fleeting smile on her father’s face. He was joking…maybe.
The garden archway loomed before them, and his grunt drew her father’s glance. Ten more steps, and they would see her. Fifty more steps, and he would deliver her father to her.
One hundred more steps, and he might not be on his feet, no matter how hard he tried.
Chapter 65: Dead and Alive
When Julia saw her father and Leander step through the arch, she turned her back. “There he is. Tell me when he gets here.”
She silently counted down the steps they would have to take, her heart rate rising as the number dropped.
“They’re here.”
Her smile burst forth at Servilia’s words. She spun and slipped her arms around Father and burrowed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her and pinned her there.
“You need to sit.”
Servilia’s words popped Calantha’s eyes open in time to see their friend lift Leander’s arm onto her shoulder and wrap her arm around his waist. Her father’s arms kept her from going to him. But after Servilia helped him sit, he smiled and waved her away.
Her lion was tired, but he’d be all right. Now to set him free.
“I’m so glad you came home on time. We’ve been hiding out for a month, waiting for your return.”
Father’s eyes veiled. “We?”
“Leander and me.”
His eyes flipped toward Leander, then returned to her. “When I asked his name, he said Dacius. You say Leander.”
