by Nhys Glover
There was something very fragile about her although what it was he couldn’t put his finger on. She was sturdy enough, dressed as she was as a conservative roman patrician. But her hair was not ornately styled as was the fashion, nor did she wear any jewellery or other adornments. But then, she’d just been swimming in the sea. Her wet hair still clung to the sides of her angular face. Of course she would be casually attired.
But there was something about her that told him she would never be one for ornate adornment. This girl reminded him of Livia, who’d never cared for such feminine artifice. She’d seen it as whorish behaviour back then, and even now after she understood that her father’s teachings were wrong she still dressed plainly and simply. She didn’t even realise that by doing so she only accentuated her beauty.
But though this girl might also dress simply, it didn’t accentuate her beauty. This girl had little beauty to accentuate. Her face was long and bony, too strong and angular for a woman. He could see gently curving breasts pressed against the wet fabric of her tunic, but she was by no means well endowed. No, Galeria was no beauty.
So why was his heart drawing him to her? Was it simply sympathy he felt for all she’d been through? Or was it guilt, because he hadn’t been able to reach her family in time to save them? He didn’t know. But the longer he sat next to her, the stronger was the desire to reach out and stroke the side of her pale face, to give her comfort, even while she lay insensible.
What would Niobe make of the softness he felt for this girl? Would she think he was betraying her? It wasn’t that he was sexually attracted to Galeria. Niobe had nothing to be jealous about in that regard. But would she resent the gentle urge he had to comfort this fragile stranger?
No. The answer came loud and clear from somewhere outside him. He looked around, startled by the strangeness of the sensation. It was almost as if Niobe stood at his side, had heard his question and had yelled back at him, desperately trying to get her message across. He looked around the shadowy room. No, he could see no spirits here, but then he hadn’t seen spirits since he was a young boy.
The longer he sat, the stronger the sensation became. He knew Niobe wanted him to help this girl. He just knew it.
‘What are you doing here?’ A soft voice demanded. He turned back from his search of the room to see that Galeria had awoken. She wiped the damp strand of hair back from her face as she tried to edge into a seated position.
‘You fainted. I brought you here. I thought it looked like your room.’
‘It is. I… I fainted?’ Her gaze ran the length of him and she gasped. ‘You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding?’
He glanced down at the patch of blood forming on the side of his tunic just above his belt. He’d forgotten about the wound the slave-girl had inflicted.
‘It’s nothing. Your girl thought I meant you harm. She’s a fierce child.’
‘No child. But yes, Cyra is fierce.’ She smiled wanly.
Nexus frowned in confusion. Not that it mattered, but he would have sworn the slave-girl was not yet a woman. Her body seemed to say as much.
‘Her last master cut off her breasts.’ Galeria provided the answer to the riddle.
He nodded, trying to hide his horror. Over his life, he’d heard of and witnessed many awful things. But somehow, the idea of someone slicing of those soft and generous symbols of a woman’s creative purpose made him shudder. What had she done to deserve that terrible fate?
‘I… I have to find my mother. I have to get her back, and my sister. She’ll be terrified. How can I… how can I get them back?’ She stifled another sob and looked away, brushing at her cheeks to remove the evidence of her tears.
‘Do not be ashamed of your sorrow. It is natural.’
‘Extreme emotion does not serve me. My mind can’t do what it must while-ever my emotions are in control.’
‘Stoic rubbish,’ Nexus muttered under his breath, but she must have heard him because she sat up straighter and stuck her chin out at him.
‘The greatest gift the gods gave us is our minds. That’s not rubbish.’
‘There’s much in Stoic philosophy that’s worthwhile. I didn’t mean to insult your beliefs. But a woman needs to cry. Unless you let yourself feel what is happening, it will drive you mad. My mistress almost went mad trying to follow her father’s dictates. And he was a madman.’
‘You mean Livia? My father was a friend to her father, Cyrianus.’
‘I’m sure your father wouldn’t have known the man Livia’s father had become at the end. But that is for another time… We need to leave here. There’s no telling if they’ll send men back for you. You’re still in danger.’
‘I have to find my mother. I have to get her and Galerianna back.’
He couldn’t fight the urge any longer. Her fear for her mother hit him hard and all he wanted to do was calm that fear. His fingers crept toward her of their own volition and gently stroked the side of her face. Her big eyes open wider at the touch but she didn’t pull away.
‘Peace lady, we’ll find your loved ones, don’t worry.’ His voice was as gentle as his fingers, and they soothed her until she closed her eyes and relaxed into his hand.
‘How? They could be anywhere by now,’ she said with a whimper, as she leaned into him, drawing what comfort she could from the shell of a man he now was.
‘We’ll find them, but first we must get you to safety. Are you strong enough to stand?’
To show that she was, Galeria slid off the side of the bed and put her feet onto the floor. A little wobbly, she stood up. Nexus rose, too, and placed his arm under hers to steady her.
Together they walked to the front of the villa and then out into the night. Here, Cor Leonis stood holding the small slave girl, her back pressed against his chest. They almost looked like lovers enjoying the view, but the image was shattered when the hellcat kicked the Dacian in the shins and escaped his grasp. In seconds, the girl had flown to Galeria’s side and was elbowing Nexus out of the way.
‘What have you done to her?’ she demanded, staring daggers at him.
‘Calm down, Cyra. He’s trying to help us. He’s not the enemy,’ Galeria said as she leaned against the smaller girl, resting her cheek against the top of her slave’s head. It looked like a child was comforting an adult.
Decaneus moved swiftly over to them, grinning sheepishly at Nexus all the while. ‘She puts women warriors of my people to shame.’
Cyra glanced across at him, as if surprised by the compliment. ‘I’m descended from Amazon warriors as I told you. What would you expect?’
The Dacian nodded with an impish smile. ‘Does your lack of breasts make you a better bowman, as they say?’
Cyra huffed and ignored him as she refocused on her mistress.
‘I can’t leave them. They need a proper cremation. Their ashes must be collected and their bones cleaned and interned. We can’t leave them…’ Galeria turned back to the house, seemingly realising for the first time that they were about to leave the dead as they’d fallen.
‘We’ll make sure someone comes out here in the morning. We’ll leave money for proper death rites, but you can’t be involved. I’ve told you; you’re not safe. They may be looking for you as we speak. It’s clear they planned to leave no witnesses to this night’s events.’
‘You think they mean to kill my mother and sister?’ Her voice became high with panic.
‘If they meant to kill them, they would have done it here. For some reason they want them alive, but the same might not be true for you. Or they might want you as a prisoner as well. You aren’t any good to your mother and sister if you’re a captive, too,’ Nexus explained as simply as he could. He knew she wasn’t thinking straight, as she struggled under the enormity of what she’d experienced.
‘He’s right, Galeria. We must get you into hiding. I can…’
‘No, people know who you are. If they killed all the slaves to keep them quiet, they will kill you, too,’ Galeria interrupted
her sternly.
So she wasn’t as far gone as he’d thought. Her brain was still functioning well enough to work certain scenarios out.
‘We will discuss this further when we’ve found shelter for the night,’ Nexus interrupted firmly.
‘Wait. My father’s documents. Our savings. Mother’s jewels. We can’t leave them here for anyone to steal, and Cyra’s papers are in there, too. I have to go to father’s study… I have too…’
‘I’ll go…’ Cyra offered quickly.
‘I’ll go with her,’ the Dacian said just as quickly.
Nexus knew that she couldn’t take going back into the house again, so he nodded his head. ‘Come Galeria. Let Cyra do this much for you. They’ll catch up when they’ve collected all you need.’
After an uncertain moment, the daughter of the devastated household nodded her agreement. It was more an admission of defeat than approval of the plan. Heart aching strangely, Nexus began to lead the tall woman away, down the hill into the moonlit night.
Galeria leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder and he shifted his position so that his arm was around her and she was pressed against his side. It felt oddly right. He gave his head a brief shake to drive the thought away, but he didn’t change his position. Step by slow step, he led the girl away from the death and destruction.
Her life here was over. She must come to terms with that and move on. Her mother and sister needed her. And with all that was left of him, he was determined to help her save the innocents she’d lost.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cyra felt confused. She wanted to see these men as the enemy, even though she’d noticed right from the start that they had weapons and clothes free of blood and that the Nubian’s concern had seemed genuine when he looked around him for the first time. It had just seemed too coincidental to her that they’d arrived so soon after the murders offering help.
So she’d cut the Nubian with her sword when he’d lunged at Galeria; it had been a reaction to his sudden movements that had done it. A stranger had seemed to attack and she defended without thought. A moment later, seeing the black man had meant no harm and was holding her mistress so gently in his arms, she felt ashamed of her actions. The sword had dropped from her hand as the warm arms of the other man had surrounded her.
But it was those warm arms that had made her start fighting again. The bearded man had been too comfortable with her pressed against him. She’d felt his body respond to her closeness. Suddenly, memories of that last brutal attack had rushed to the surface and all thoughts disappeared. In her mind, she’d been back in the steamy forum surrounded by cheering men, as that filthy bastard had tried to take her from behind. So she’d fought for freedom from the stranger’s arms in blind panic.
With only a small part of her mind she’d seen the black man carry her mistress away. What is he going to do to Galeria? Her panic had increased and she’d wriggled, scratched and bit at the man who imprisoned her.
‘Calm yourself, wildcat, we mean you no harm,’ the bearded one spoke gently into her ear as he struggled to keep hold of her. She heard him panting but didn’t know if it was from exertion or sexual arousal. It was impossible to tell whether he was still hard, once she was thrashing her body about.
Cyra didn’t know how long she’d fought him. The time since she’d entered this house of death had warped and distorted. It felt like days since they’d stood at the door, wary of the silence within. Yet, it felt like only moments before that they’d been happily walking up the hill after their swim. However long it actually was that she struggled against the strong, restraining hands, finally her own strength had given out and she drooped in his arms.
That’s when the tears started. She’d looked around at the people she’d come to think of as family – the amiable, slightly absent-minded master and the slave girls who had been so kind to her since she’d joined the household and something inside her broke. The wrenching ache welled up from nowhere and overwhelmed her with sobs she had no way to contain.
‘There, there, little wildcat, don’t take on so. Let’s get you out of here. This sight is enough to upset anyone.’ His deep, gentle voice above her was oddly comforting and she let him guide her out of the house into the fresh night air. Here, the stench of blood and death was lessened but not gone. Somehow, it had wedged itself into her nostrils and it wouldn’t go away.
Cyra had seen awful things on the slave ship that had brought her to Rhodos, the largest slave market in Asia, but nothing as bad as what she’d just witnessed. She cared about these people. These were people who had been alive and happy less than an hour ago. These were people she’d expected would be part of her life for years to come – her new foundation for the life that had been tossed on stormy seas for too long. Now they were all gone.
Except for Galeria.
What is that black stranger doing to my Galeria? From somewhere she drew up enough energy to start to fight for her freedom again. She had to find Galeria. She couldn’t lose her, too.
But the man’s arms tightened around her and as quickly as it had come, the urge to fight was gone. She felt so empty, so terribly empty.
‘Look at the moon as it shines on the water, little wildcat. Is that not the Amazon’s symbol?’
Cyra let his gruff male voice sooth her. Suddenly the arms were not imprisoning her but comforting and supporting her. Through her tears, she nodded.
‘In my land the moon goddess is called Bendis. She’s saved my worthless life more than once. By what name do you know her?’
‘Astarte. She is Astarte, and my name, Cyra, means moon. I believed that she’d brought me to a safe harbour at last, but now… now it’s all gone. So much blood…’
‘Shhh now, Cyra, don’t think about it. Astarte made sure you and your mistress were safely away from this place when disaster hit. You’re protected, just as I am.’
‘You think so? Sometimes I feel as if the goddess is dead… or never existed at all. How could she let her people suffer as they do? My tribe has followed her since ancient times but our lot has never been good. Our women aren’t warriors anymore. They’re whores, selling their bodies and their skills to support their families. I would have been one of them. Back then, I didn’t question my path. It seemed an honourable life… a free life. But since coming here… I don’t know anymore. Selling my body for coppers is not a good life. It is simply survival. There has to be more to life than just survival. And yet in moments like this, when life is so easily dispatched, I have to wonder if maybe survival is really all there is…’
‘Such deep thoughts. Life is what it is, and it is but one stage in our existence. Death is not the end, or so I was taught.’
‘You consider yourself immortal? You think you do not die?’ Cyra was fascinated by the turn in the conversation and she let her fears fade for the moment.
‘We die. Of course our bodies die. But who we are… what we are… doesn’t. It goes on. Zalmoxis showed us this. He is our god but once he lived amongst us as a man, and he sickened and died as a man and was placed in the earth. Three years later, he returned to us alive. We call him a god because he taught us that death is not the end.’
‘And you believe this?’
‘I believe this, but with issues concerning this life I ask Bendis for help and she gives it. She told me how to defeat the lion.’
‘Lion? There are no lions in Dacia… or anywhere in the north.’
‘No. I faced the lion in the Flavian Amphitheatre in Rome. It was to be my execution.’
‘I don’t believe you. No man can defeat a lion alone. I’ve seen those creatures. They’re huge and fearsome.’
‘And so was this one. But I did survive. And then I found myself a slave to Nexus’ patroness who sent me here to rescue your mistress. So here we both stand, led by the same goddess who’s known to us by different names. It seems fitting that we stand here now watching her shine so peacefully down on us.’
‘You’re a foolish bard. I
don’t believe a word you’re saying…’ Cyra blustered, more moved than she wanted to admit. Could Astarte have brought this man to her? And if so, for what reason?
Galeria’s arrival was timed perfectly. Cyra was able to forget that troubling thought and focus again on the present. Now, here she was walking back into the house of death, her past enemy now her ally, as they sought to save what they could of this family’s valuables.
Even if they had a cart to take them away, they couldn’t claim all that had been of value here. They would have to make do with scrolls and coins. No true measure of this family’s worth, that was certain, but they were what the world would value and they might need what they found to save Papia and her darling Gali.
Her heart still felt sick when she thought of that child in Antoninus’ hands.
By the time they had collected what they could and were hurrying down the hill after Nexus and Galeria, Decaneus was starting to get his confused thoughts back in order. From the first moment he’d seen the dark-haired wildcat, he’d felt an odd recognition. It was as if he knew her. However, though he had known many girls who had hair as black as hers and large almond shaped eyes fringed by black lashes like hers, none of them had really looked like this girl. To say she was beautiful was an understatement. To say she was feisty and one of the true warrior-women he’d jokingly labelled her would be unadorned fact. To say she had a fiery spirit that called to his was simply a statement of truth that couldn’t be denied. It didn’t explain it nor detail the richness of the connection that had formed in an instant.
He knew he had never seen her before, but he also knew that he had been waiting for this particular girl for all of his twenty-five years of life. For the first time, he understood why his father and men like him… men like Nexus… grieved the loss of their women. In no more time than it took to blink an eye, he knew that he would protect this woman with his life, because life without her would no longer be an option. His happiness, his very survival depended on hers.
