by Gordon, Eva
Though she healed with a touch, the skill of stitches and binding broken limbs was just as important. She hoped Ulric never needed her services. She heard he had fought a lion for Domitian’s private pleasure. Guilty fantasies of treating him after a mauling often crept in her mind. How would he respond to her tender touch? Shame washed over her. Forgive me Feronia, I do not want him hurt, even if it’s the only way to see him again. He had locked eyes on her during the Wolf Hunt spectacle. Had it been her imagination? Her wish? Had he despised her, up in the stands, watching the bloody spectacle?
She folded clean cloths and set them next to a washbasin. She glanced at the hot bath built by Cato’s architect for Gaius’s clinic. Truth was Cato and Gaius used it more often than any patient had. She smiled. Cato bore a resemblance to Albius, same white hair, blue eyes and though not as tall, much taller than Gaius. Though Gaius loved Cato, Albius remained his unrequited love. She walked to the hot bath and swirled her finger in it. She looked forward to a nice long bath. Tonight.
The pitter-patter of hooves startled her.
“Baaa.”
“Egid, how many times have I told you not to come in!” She laughed. “It will be our secret.” Happy that Ferox wasn’t here to scold, she tickled him behind his ears. “I’m sorry, you can’t stay. I just cleaned.” She a grabbed a sac of leftover lettuce, and opened the door. “Come and eat.”
Egidius followed her to the garden and into his roomy enclosure. Before the goat entered his pen, he did a little kicking dance and reared like a horse, making her laugh.
A loud commotion outside the gates silenced her laughter. Trouble. Along with loud demands, fierce lycan growls echoed. Her heart skipped a beat. Her guards!
Chapter 4
Cassia stumbled to a stop. A wagon stood at the gates of their modest villa. Lycans. Her guards surrendered their weapons, unharmed. Caninus Macula and his wife Floretta bounded out while men rushed to the back of the wagon. A large man leapt off his horse. Her eyes widened. Ulric the Gladiator. He wore his long brown hair pulled tight in a Suebian knot, a common style among the Germanian tribesmen. The knot added further height and he towered above the others like a bull surrounded by goats. His blue tunic and sandal boots made him look half Roman, half barbarian. His face was grim and furrowed with worry.
What was he doing here? What happened? Her head cleared of the initial shock and she returned her glance to the wagon. Four men lifted a litter with a bloodstained sheet that covered a man. Or was he a corpse? Men rushed around the litter like bees around their queen and strong-armed their way in. A beta dashed toward her. “Get Gaius!”
The poor soul on the litter resembled a mangled heap. Her heart pounded against her chest. “Gaius is in Ravenna.” She cast a quick glance at the mortally injured man…no…lycan. Her voice small, “Gauis will not be back for another month.”
Macula shoved his beta out of his way and gripped her shoulders. His claws dug into her skin. “You are his physician’s assistant, are you not?” He seized her palm and confirmed. “Cassia, is it? You took the blood oath, I see.”
Humans sworn to keep the lycan society secret allowed a lycan to cut a crescent moon at the base of the thumb. A wolf maiden did not need such an oath, but to keep her real identity a secret, Gaius cut her to prove she had taken the blood vow. She cast her gaze down. No one dared make eye contact with an alpha. She snapped from her stupor and nodded. She lifted her chin. “I am now a lycan physician.”
Floretta walked alongside the litter and wailed. “Oh, Lucius!” Even distraught, she was a beautiful woman with dark hair and eyes enhanced with Egyptian kohl. She wore a fine stola and expensive jewelry that spoke of the wealth of the Caninus family. She glared at Cassia. “She is only his slave.”
Macula draped his arm over his wife, his tone gentle, “Gaius told us at a council meeting Cassia is as skilled as he is.”
Behind them stood Ulric, like the statue of Mars, all muscle and fierceness. His hooded gaze stalked her as if she were his next meal. Now was not the time to be a swooning girl.
Cassia took action. “Bring him inside the clinic!” She moved the curtains and they followed her into the spacious room. “Leave him on the litter, but place him on the cot.” She lifted the sheets and did her best to suppress a look of horror. Dear Feronia. She felt bile burn at the back of her throat. “What happened?”
Macula growled before he spoke, “My son had an accident while chariot racing. At a turn the wheel of another chariot dislodged and he…the other chariots could not stop…” His fangs sprang out and he snarled. “Can you heal him?”
She licked her lips. She once had cured Albius of wolfsbane poison. However, this was different. Would her gift heal such horrific injuries? “I will do my best.”
The boy’s mother spat, “Save him or…” Floretta turned to Ulric who helped lift the litter. “Ulric, if he dies, rip her throat.” She then turned and ran to Macula who held her as she wept. An alpha female handed her a cloth. Floretta wiped her black makeup streaked face and turned her attention to the gladiator. “Promise me, Ulric.”
Ulric spoke in a kind voice. “Domina do not…”
Macula cut him off. “You will remain here. If my boy dies, do as my wife has commanded.”
Cassia’s eyes widened as Ulric nodded. She recalled how he had decapitated and disemboweled other gladiators in the arena. Her hand of its own volition touched her throat, the pulse of her carotid artery rushed at the memory.
She focused on the boy’s wounds. She removed the sheet, and his mother screamed. Cassia turned to Macula. “It would be best for you and your wife to leave. What I need to do will be unpleasant to witness and will take the remainder of the day, and all night. All I ask is that you have someone start the brazier and assist me until Gaius’s slave, Ferox, returns.”
Macula turned to a raven-haired female alpha. “Nox escort Floretta out!” He barked at one of his male betas to light the brazier. Though the man was cruel and hated by the Lupercal council, great sorrow shown on his face upon seeing his son so mangled.
She took the boy’s wrist and felt his pulse. Weak. She bit her lower lip and scanned his injuries. His right leg’s tibia protruded out like an arrow, his left arm twisted in dislocation, and his skin was red with rub burns, revealing raw flesh and muscle. Skinned alive. Those were the obvious injuries. She touched his clavicle, broken. His other leg broken at the knee. Dear Feronia, the kneecap, shattered beyond repair. Her hand moved to the ribs, four broken. His neck was intact; a human’s would have snapped by the looks of the impact. The internal organs bled. Her fingers felt the gash and swelling on his forehead. The boy remained unconscious, a blessing.
She turned to Macula. Behind him, Ulric stood like a looming shadow, an instrument of death. She ignored the gladiator and her certain execution. “His helmet saved his skull from being crushed, although he may have suffered damage to the brain.” The Caninus heir might awaken as a simpleton. “Is there another charioteer I can talk to about the accident?” Knowing how he fell on his head might provide a clue on a head injury.
Macula’s eyes darkened. “Eco, his trainer, no longer draws breath!”
She gazed under the boy’s eyelids. His pupils were large, indicating brain tissue damage. “From the accident?”
“No.” In suppressed rage, he gritted his teeth. “I ripped his throat.”
Cassia tried not to shudder, but her hand trembled as she felt for more broken bones and dislocations. Lycan temper. Her life, tied to the boy’s tenuous hold. Just this morning she had thought about how blessed she was. She wanted to beg for her life, perhaps even reveal her secret. A hidden wolf maiden and Valeria Luperca. No. Not to the likes of Macula, death would be preferable. She gathered strength with a long breath, and spoke in a calm tone, “Salves will be applied to his torn skin, his bones will be set and treated. His internal injuries concern me. I will be honest. The surgery to save him may kill him. I know it will forfeit my life if he dies, but I want yo
u, as his father, to be prepared for the worst.” She cast her eyes down. To tell a lycan his son might die could cause him to shift and rip her throat out, regardless of logic.
Macula shot a worried look at a table with a tray containing forceps, scalpels, bone hooks, and arrow-extractors. She reached for another tray with bone levers she would use to set his numerous fractures and stabilize them. “I will treat his internal injuries first. I will start by washing his wounds with acetum.”
Ferox dashed in, a look of unabashed concern on his face. “Cassia, I heard about the boy. How can I help?” He cried out as Ulric grabbed him.
The gladiator lifted the poor old slave off the floor. He growled before setting him down. Ferox stumbled, falling back and Ulric gripped his shoulders and steadied him.
She scowled at Ulric. “Let him go. Ferox is my assistant.” He released him and she put Ferox to work. “Boil the water and prepare my instruments for surgery. And bring me my supply of opium poppy extract.”
Ferox went to task, though it was hard to move around with five people in the clinic.
She cast her eyes low and took Macula by the hand. A daring gesture but necessary to calm the fretting father and worse, a fierce lycan. Her touch calmed a lycan’s spirit, part of her healing gift. “Let me and my assistant work alone. Go home. Rest. I will send a message by morning.”
He sighed as if in release. She let go of his hand and he gazed at his son. “Floretta and I will wait until he has pulled through the night.”
“Very well. Stay in Gaius’s room. The bed is quite comfortable. My chamber is free but…”
“My pack will sleep outside.” He turned to Ulric. “You will not leave Lucius’ side.”
Not taking his eyes off her, the towering gladiator bowed in acquiescence. He must hate her. She had kept her silence rather than telling him she knew of lycans. Did he feel betrayed? His claws were out and ready. Would he be swift and merciful and not let her suffer?
She poured the acetum into a large bowl. “Please, I need everyone out.” She pointed her chin toward Ulric. She didn’t need a hulk knocking down her instruments and potions. “He can stand outside if you wish, but I must be alone.”
Macula barked, “No! He stays to execute you if need be.” Her touch had only provided him with a fleeting calm. The alpha was protective of his cub and as fierce as an alpha protecting his wolf maiden. Did he think his threat helped her do a better job?
Behind Macula, Ulric winked at her as if in support. She was flustered but calmed. She trusted the gladiator who had once walked her home. A secret they shared. “If the gladiator stays, he will wash and help when I ask.”
Macula smiled. “That will be no problem. My omega Ulricus is not squeamish.”
Ulric’s eyes darkened but he remained stoic. She sensed his hatred for his master.
Lucius moaned, and Macula dashed to his side. The boy mouthed the word, “Eco?”
Macula bent down. “Rest, son.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered, and thank Feronia, slipped back into unconsciousness.
Cassia held Macula by his arm and gently guided him out. “Let me save him.”
He turned to her before the curtains were drawn. Tears welling. “Don’t tell him I killed Eco like…” He bent his head in shame. “My son admired Eco more than anyone.” He snorted. “Even more than me. He is all he ever talked about. They were best friends.”
“Yet you blamed him for the accident,” she said matter of factly. Her face heated from the foolish retort.
His lip twitched. “Eco tended to another’s lame horse outside the arena when he should have been watching my son.”
“I will not tell him of Eco’s death.” It was not her concern anyway. Macula almost tore the curtains as he left and she returned to Lucius. Ferox ran and fixed the curtains, to hide the surgery. The infirmary was far from the rest of the house. Blessed privacy. Dear Feronia, save the boy.
She washed the boy’s wounds in preparation for surgery. Ulric leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Why didn’t you tell me you took the lycan blood oath to doctor lycans?”
His warm breath made her shudder. His tone sounded more hurt than angry. She ignored him. She pointed to his shoulder area. “Hold him here.” She huffed and snapped the joint in place. “I’m not at liberty to discuss lycan matters.” The last thing she wanted was for him, and worse Macula, to learn she was a wolf maiden with the gift of healing. Such a wolf maiden would be desired as a breeder.
Macula, the most powerful lycan in Rome, would snatch her. Tall muscular Caninus Macula was attractive, but his cruel nature was known throughout the Roman Empire. His wife, was considered to be just as brutal, if not more so. Hated by both her slaves and lycans, would such a woman allow Macula to acquire her as a mistress wolf maiden? Her pulse raced at such a thought.
Ulric rested a calloused hand on her shoulder. She shivered at his touch. He whispered, “If the boy dies, I will not kill you.”
She quipped. “Most reassuring. Though by the number of lycans out there, I gather we would both die.” Ferox set the instruments on a table alongside the cot.” She picked up the scalpel. The boy’s head swelled like a melon. To relieve the brain swelling, she gently removed a small section of the skull.
What she really needed to do was to sit undisturbed and heal him with her gift. Impossible with Ulric here. She held the boy’s hand. He grew weaker. She sensed the bleeding inside. She turned to Ulric. “After I set the bones, I will sit with the boy. I suggest you take a warm bath.”
He glanced at the bath and roguishly smiled. “Will you join me later?”
A tingle traveled up her spine and her wolf mark scorched her skin. The thought of being naked in the bath with him stupefied her. Feeling his muscles, exploring his… She snapped back to her senses. She sputtered, “Uh…no! I mean…I need to watch his breathing. His lungs may have ruptured.”
He flared his nostrils and grinned with a hint of fangs. “Humans cannot hide their scent’s meaning from our kind.”
Cassia ignored his wolfish awareness of her deep desires. “Bring me that tray.” She set Lucius’ bones with the gladiator and Ferox’s help. She pressed her hands and pretended to mend, while sending healing energy. It was not enough. She needed to hum in order to increase its effectiveness. “Gladiator. Go take a bath. I must sit with the boy, alone. Ferox, bring the gladiator oils and combs.” Perhaps if she didn’t call him by name, he would lose interest in her.
Ulric sniffed his underarms and scowled. “As you order, my domina.”
He stripped, and she gaped. “Nemesis!” Fresh wounds from a recent flogging striped his muscular back. What had he done or said to have earned such punishment? Poor Ulric. He narrowed his eyes at her and stepped onto the wooden platform. No. His wounds. “Wait…”
Too late. He sank his large brawny body into the bath and exhaled a long pained gasp.
She handed Ferox a salve. “Add this to his wounds. It will deaden the pain.”
Ulric kneeled with his torso out while Ferox applied the ointment. Covered with the white salve, he submersed beneath the water. He tilted his head back as though to sleep.
She returned to the boy’s side, held his hand, and closed her eyes. She focused on the worst of the injuries. She hummed louder as she mended each torn organ and removed poisoning bile. She folded in pain, but held his hand steady. Hot sharp knives sliced her guts. Her bones broke and mended. Her skin burned. Unbearable. Normally, she handled the initial pain, but this was no simple healing.
Ferox rushed to her and held her arm. “My lady. Let go.”
She shook her head and continued to hum and heal. White pain shot through her core and she gasped, let go of Lucius, and collapsed on the ground. Her body could only react to the boy’s pain with a massive unstoppable fit. Her body shook. She was dying.
Ferox knelt at her side and held her arms down. She tried to focus on him but her vision blurred. The room appeared like a hazy grey cloud. She barely heard F
erox as her eyes rolled back.
***
Ulric leapt from the water, panic in his voice, “What is happening to her?”
Ferox looked up as he held her flailing arms down. “The fit will soon pass.”
Her legs flopped, and Ulric gripped them. He once overheard Lupercii talk about how the great Emperor Julius Caesar had such fits. In his ancestral Germanic wolf pack, a witch woman, a great seer and healer, often had similar spasms. An oracle for Tanfana, their goddess of the grove, the witch woman absorbed the pain of the injured.
Cassia finally stopped convulsing and moaned.
Ferox whispered in her ear, “Time for you to sleep, my lady.” He turned to Ulric. “Set her on that cot.”
Sopping wet, Ulric lifted Cassia. Her head slumped as if she had just died. He laid her on the cot. “Is she sleeping?”
Ferox bent over and lifted one of her eyelids. “She should come too soon, but she will be weak.” He stood and gripped Ulric’s arm. For a man twice his age and stooped, his grip was nonetheless strong. “I beg you. Do not tell your master of her fit. If word gets out, she will lose patients. Romans believe people with the falling sickness have demons that infect others. Such people must live alone; however, this Roman superstition is not true.” His old eyes pleaded and Ulric sensed the man worried about her with unsurpassed loyalty as though she were his granddaughter.
“You have my word of honor.” Something about this woman stirred his heart. Why? Was it the pleasant walk he shared with her? Or his admiration of her skill and bravery despite the boy’s injuries and the threat of her death if he died? He glanced at her tousled hair and face. It was more. Her fine beauty and sweet scent made him desire only her. He wanted to protect her. Possess her. No woman had ever made him feel so complete. Was she a wolf maiden? He only needed to lift her tunic to look.
