A Charioteer's Promise

by Tanya Bird

  Nero shifted. ‘We can’t afford to wait.’

  ‘He already has men running about the city looking for you both. It was not exactly a clean getaway, I hear.’

  Dulcia took a step closer to Nero. ‘He is not just going to give up when he cannot find us.’

  Gallus tapped his nose. ‘Of course not. He has likely paid off the guards along the walls.’

  Nero’s grip on her hand tightened. ‘But you’ll get us out?’

  Gallus raised his hands in a calming gesture. ‘Yes, but we will need to wait until evening, when the guards change. You will leave via Porta Naevia. Those are the guards I have paid off.’ He paused for a moment to let them revel in his cleverness. ‘If anyone stops you, you tell them your name is Agrippa Decius. Your horse will be waiting on the other side.’

  ‘What if Manius has also paid them?’ Dulcia asked.

  Gallus smiled like one does when a child asks a silly question. ‘These men are loyal to me.’

  Nero looked around the small room. ‘Are we safe here in the meantime?’

  ‘Quite,’ Gallus replied, tapping the table with his hand as though the sturdiness of the furniture was representative of the fact. ‘Rest. Wash. Eat.’ He ran his eyes over Nero. ‘Definitely wash. You look like you stopped to slaughter a sow on your way here.’

  Gallus stepped up to Nero, arm extended. ‘You are mad, but I have always liked you, so I wish you both luck.’ Glancing at Dulcia, he added, ‘Though I question your choice of suitor.’ He winked at her as he clapped Nero on the back, then strolled from the room.

  Chapter 28

  Nero wished Dulcia would relax, look him in the eye—at least breathe. But she sat at the table in the middle of the room, watching the door and jumping at every scrape, bang and voice that reached them. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, watching her.

  ‘Come sit with me.’

  Even at his voice she jumped.

  Standing, she lifted her chair so it would not scrape on the floor, then joined him on the ground. His arm went around her, and he guided her head to his shoulder.

  ‘Talk to me,’ he said.

  ‘Soon it will be dark.’

  ‘Yes.’ He smoothed her hair down. ‘Are you afraid to leave?’

  She tipped her face up to look at him. ‘If I am caught, I will be returned to my family. The wedding will likely go ahead. There will be consequences, but none of them life-threatening.’ She blinked. ‘If you are caught, Manius has the power to make you disappear.’

  His lips brushed her forehead. ‘You’re focusing on today and forgetting about tomorrow, next week, a year from now.’

  Her eyes searched his face. ‘Since I am incapable of seeing past the immediate threat to your life’—there was a hint of smile in her voice—‘perhaps you could tell me about tomorrow, next week, and a year from now.’ She settled against his shoulder again.

  He glanced at the window, keeping an eye on the fading daylight. ‘Tomorrow we will board a ship six times the length of the river boats. There will be nothing but water in every direction. The air you breathe on deck will be so raw, so clean, you will wonder how you ever survived breathing anything else.’ He ran the tips of his fingers along her arm, watching the bumps appear on her skin. ‘Alexandria is like nothing you’ve ever seen. There are palaces—’

  ‘And pyramids?’

  ‘Not in Alexandria. We need to travel to Giza for those.’

  She pressed a hand to his beating heart. ‘Then maybe we go to India to be with Mila and the rest of the family.’

  His chest grew heavy. ‘Not straight away. We’ll need to wait.’ The decision to run came with consequences. He was making them fugitives of sorts.

  ‘We could get married in Giza.’

  His cheek rested on the top of her head and he closed his eyes. ‘I vowed years ago to love and protect you, so you’re already mine.’

  ‘I don’t recall those vows.’

  ‘I never spoke them aloud.’

  ‘Ah. Well, that explains it.’ A pause. ‘I definitely recall consummating the marriage.’

  He kissed the top of her head. The memories of that night were still fresh, because he had replayed them in his mind every day since. He tried to imagine what a life filled with her would look like. ‘You’re like the sun, giving light to all things.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Careful. That sounds like the beginning of a poem.’

  ‘Can I make it a dirty one? Like the ones you read?’

  Her perfect mouth stretched into a smile. ‘If you like.’

  He kissed her, tasting the preserved apricots they had eaten earlier. ‘You’re so beautiful when you smile.’ He ran a finger along her jaw.

  ‘As are you.’

  He took in her expression. ‘You are going to tire of the sight of me smiling.’

  ‘Never.’ She tugged his head down into another kiss. His body hummed with the sensation. When she pulled away, her expression was serious. ‘When we leave here, you will keep hold of my hand?’

  ‘I won’t let go.’

  ‘And on the ship, because I cannot swim.’

  His arms went around her, his body a cradle for hers. ‘I’ll teach you to swim.’ He whispered the words into her hair and watched as her eyes sank shut.

  ‘Dulcia, wake up.’

  She startled awake in his arms and looked around at the dark room. The woman from earlier stood by the back door, watching the street. Dulcia blinked up at Nero. ‘Is it time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He stood, pulling her up with him, then reached for the satchel on the table.

  ‘I will carry it,’ she said, holding out her hands.

  ‘Absolutely not. It’s too heavy.’

  She took it from him and slipped it over her head, struggling to keep her shoulders level beneath the weight of it. ‘It is not heavy. See? I will be no help if we run into trouble, but I can carry our things.’ Noticing his conflicted expression, she added, ‘You will not have time to hand it to me, and we need you ready.’

  He reluctantly nodded, then lifted his tunic to adjust the dagger strapped to his thigh. Satisfied with its placement, he took her hand, bringing it to his mouth. ‘Tomorrow, next week and a year from now.’

  It was their new mantra. ‘Tomorrow, next week and a year from now.’

  He drew a breath. ‘All right. Let’s get today out of the way.’

  Nero said nothing to the woman as they stepped past her. Dulcia was about to say thank you when she realised they probably needed to remain quiet. She glanced over her shoulder as the door closed behind them. The sound of a lock being turned followed. Nero squeezed her hand, a reassuring gesture she needed desperately. She tried to think about tomorrow, arriving in Ostia and seeing their ship for the first time. She could not tell if it was nerves or excitement that fluttered inside of her. Nero did not say anything, just started walking, his pace brisk but not so fast she would struggle to keep up.

  They headed south, where Gallus’s contact was expecting them. The walk seemed eternal. She found herself bracing every time someone passed them, so she kept her eyes down and palla hooded over her head, guided only by Nero’s body language. He kept her close, as wary as she was. She could tell by the way he stiffened every time someone walked by, his hand brushing over the dagger.

  Dulcia held her breath for most of the walk, her damp hands giving away her fear.

  At the halfway mark, she began to slow. The weight of her bag was making her shoulders cramp and neck ache. When she stopped to adjust it, Nero took it from her.

  ‘I am fine,’ she said.

  ‘It’s too heavy for you.’

  She reluctantly let go, and he settled the bag on his shoulder as though it weighed nothing at all. Taking her hand again, they resumed walking, and that time she was able to keep up.

  When the thirty-foot wall finally came into sight, they slowed down and veered left towards the gate. The city had outgrown the wall. In many ways it was redun
dant, with the protection of the growing military outside. But the gates were still the only way in or out of the city, and it was easier to guard sixteen points than an open perimeter.

  Nero waited for a gap between the incoming carts spilling into the city, then crossed the street. Two guards looked their way, then strolled towards them. Dulcia’s heart sped up and her mouth went dry. She really hoped these were Gallus’s men or they were going to be in a lot of trouble.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ the taller one asked, eyes moving over them.

  Nero was calm, his expression friendly. ‘Visiting my sister.’

  The men exchanged a glance. ‘Name?’

  ‘Agrippa Decius,’ Nero replied.

  The name rolled off his tongue as though he had said it his entire life. The other guard looked at Dulcia. ‘This your wife?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nero said.

  Dulcia was certain they would see her chest pulsing with each beat of her heart. She swallowed, her mouth painfully dry. Finally, the shorter man stepped back from them. ‘Watch the carts on your way through.’

  Nero nodded and led Dulcia past them. ‘Good evening.’

  By some miracle, her legs held up as they walked along the thick base of the wall and passed beneath the arch. She glanced once at the guards, then released a long, shaky breath.

  ‘I won’t let anything happen to you,’ Nero said, keeping his voice low.

  Her free hand went to his arm, and fear gave way to a rush of affection. ‘I know.’ She pressed her forehead to his arm.

  Tomorrow, next week and a year from now.

  Nero stopped walking. Every hair on his body stood on end. Perhaps it was the fact that he could not see the face of the man waiting with the horse. A shadow covered it, and Nero did not feel right approaching a faceless man when he had Dulcia with him.

  ‘What is the matter?’ she asked, looking at the horse, then back at him.

  Everything was as it should be. So why was his skin crawling? Shaking his head, he tried to smile. ‘Nothing. Let’s go.’

  They continued towards the horse, but his unease grew with every step. He stopped again. Dulcia did not ask what the matter was that time, just moved closer to him. The man glanced nervously over his shoulder. If there was one emotion Nero had come to recognise in his line of work, it was fear.

  They were not alone.

  He stepped in front of Dulcia, slipping his hand into the satchel as he did so. His fingers wrapped the hilt of the sword. As he pulled the weapon from the bag, he whispered, ‘Run.’

  Her eyes widened as she realised what was happening. Staggering back from him, she turned, preparing to flee. But before she had a chance, three men emerged from the shadows, one either side of them and the other directly in front. Nero caught Dulcia by the wrist, pulling her behind him. She would not be able to outrun them.

  The men’s blades flashed in the moonlight as they closed in.

  ‘Nowhere to run to,’ one of them called.

  Footsteps sounded behind him, and two more men appeared around the horse. He was foolish enough to fight five armed men, but not with Dulcia huddled against him. They had been so close.

  ‘Hand the girl over, and we might let you keep one arm,’ one said.

  He tried to think, but before he could make sense of his thoughts, he felt fingertips brush his thigh. He looked down just as Dulcia snatched the dagger strapped to his leg. ‘What are you doing?’

  She looked around at the men, her breathing shallow and her eyes glassy with fear. ‘Fighting. There are too many for you to do it alone.’

  Fighting? Had she lost her mind? She was not even holding the knife properly. ‘Give that to me.’ He gestured for the weapon.

  She stared back at him as if he had said something outrageous. ‘No.’

  ‘Now,’ he replied, his voice rising. The thought of her getting hurt was undoing him.

  ‘They will kill you.’

  Probably, but not her.

  The men continued to close in, watching the exchange with interest. For a moment, he actually considered fighting them, imagined cutting their throats, driving his sword through their stomachs and praying Dulcia would one day forgive him for all she had witnessed. He pictured her swinging that tiny knife at the enormous men, and them disarming her with ease, perhaps breaking her arm in the process. They might even swing their own blades and return her to Manius to be patched up.

  He had promised he would not let anything happen to her. If he handed her over, they would just take her away. No need for weapons and violence. They would deliver her to Manius in one piece so he could have the perfect wife essential to the life he had planned.

  ‘You need to go with them.’ The words came out hoarse.

  She shook her head and her eyebrows came together, forming a sharp line across her brow. ‘What are you talking about?’ She glanced cautiously at the approaching men. ‘We leave together. That is what we agreed.

  ‘And I told you I wouldn’t let you get hurt.’

  Her hand went over her heart. ‘What is it you think you are doing right now?’

  He had to look away. ‘They won’t hurt you if you just go with them.’

  The men stopped five feet away, eyes fixed on them and weapons poised

  ‘If I lose you now,’ she said quietly, ‘that will destroy me.’

  The words sat between them, stagnating. He kept hold of his weapon.

  ‘Be smart,’ one of the men said. ‘You’re outnumbered five to one. You have a sword and the lady a dagger I’m guessing she has no idea how to use.’

  His sword hand wavered.

  ‘Please,’ Dulcia whispered. ‘Do not hand me over.’ She looked around at the men, her face hardening. ‘I would rather die here with you than walk back through that gate.’

  That image was too much, and he blinked against it. The sword fell from his hand, clanging at his feet. He held his arms up in surrender. ‘Don’t hurt her. I forced her to come with me. She’ll go with you willingly.’

  The expression on her face was haunting. Equal parts betrayal and disbelief. But he forced himself to look at her so he would never forget what he had done to her.

  ‘Go with them,’ he said. ‘Don’t fight.’

  That seemed to break her. She let go of the dagger and stared at him like he was a stranger. Two men stepped up and took hold of her arms, gripping so tightly she winced.

  ‘I said don’t hurt her!’ Nero roared as they dragged her away. He went to go after her but was grabbed by two other men. One of them kicked his knee, and he dropped to the ground. Dulcia cried out as the fifth man walked around to stand in front of him, blocking his view of her. She was all he cared about in that moment. She needed to calm. The only thing he could do was remain completely calm himself.

  ‘Get off me,’ he heard her say. He could hear her struggling.

  Be still.

  The sound of a hand slapping her put an end to that plan. ‘Dulcia—’

  It was the only word he got out before a foot connected with his stomach, knocking all the air from him and causing him to double over. Another kick, that time to the jaw. The familiar taste of blood filled his mouth.

  ‘Stop it!’

  That was Dulcia again, more desperate that time as she struggled against her captors. He did not want her to see.

  Something hard came down on his head, the hilt of a sword perhaps. Warmth spread through his hair. His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed onto his side. For a moment he considered fighting back, unleashing hell. If only he knew which way was up. If only he could see through the blood running over his eyes.

  ‘Please, stop!’

  She had resorted to begging, having likely figured out she could not break free. The anguish in her voice made him lift his head and look for her. Her tear-soaked face came into view, but then she blurred again.

  He was regretting his decision. Perhaps he should have fought, trusted that he would never let a blade come near her. He swung a leg o
ut, connecting with a knee. The cry of pain fuelled his ambition. But then another foot landed in his side, accompanied by a jolt of pain that tore through his chest. He bit back the cry that rose in his throat, knowing it would only distress Dulcia.

  ‘Stop it,’ she shouted. ‘You’ll kill him.’

  She sounded farther away that time. They were probably taking her back to her father, to her mother, to Manius. What would a man like him do to a woman like her? Shatter all her hopes, suffocate her childish joy, crush her gentle spirit. He would destroy whatever was left of her.

  Tearing one arm free from his captors, Nero tried again to get up, ducking the first punch and blocking another kick aimed at his groin. He tried to pull his other arm free, but something hard slammed into the side of his head, and everything went black.

  Chapter 29

  When Nero opened his eyes and looked around, he recognised the apartment Mila and Remus shared with Felix and Albaus. He tried really hard to remember how he got there, but for the longest time, nothing came. An aching hand reached up to touch a tender part of his head, and the image of men beating him flashed in his mind.

  Dulcia.

  He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his chest stopped him.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that’ came Felix’s voice. ‘The physician says at least one of your ribs is broken. I would guess more judging by the bruising.’

  Nero turned his head to the doorway, where Felix was standing with his arms crossed. ‘Where’s Dulcia?’ His voice came out raw, his mouth impossibly dry.

  Felix’s mouth pinched with concern. ‘No one knows.’

  Nero tried to swallow before speaking. ‘She better be all right.’

  Felix wandered into the room. ‘She is doing better than you, I imagine. You are lucky to be alive. The only reason you are not buried somewhere outside of the city is because one of Gallus’s men threw you over the back of a mule and brought you here.’