The Warrior's Bride Prize

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘Start our marriage?’

  ‘Start again—if you want to, that is. Only listen first.’ He put up a hand as she opened her mouth to speak. ‘Then decide.’

  He moved to the edge of the bed, planting his feet in the same spot where he’d confronted her an hour before, although it felt like days ago.

  ‘I told you, my father was accused of mutiny. It was while he was stationed in Germania. He was a senior centurion at forty years old, a soldier who’d come from nothing and nowhere and risen in the ranks on his own merit. His men loved him and he loved them, enough not to waste their lives.

  ‘There was an uprising amongst the Germanic tribes that year and my father was ordered to lead four cohorts east to stop it. It was already autumn, too late in the year for a campaign and in dangerous forested territory, but the Tribune who gave the order, a fool like Scaevola, wanted to win himself some acclaim. Everyone advised him against it, but the order stood. So my father led his men across the Rhenus. It didn’t take them long to realise the extent of their mistake. The tribes attacked them over and over, day and night. My father lost a quarter of his men just on the retreat, but when they got back to headquarters the Tribune called him a coward and ordered them back again. My father refused. He said he wouldn’t send good men to their deaths and was charged with inciting mutiny.’

  ‘What happened then?’ She asked the question softly.

  ‘What usually happens to mutineers. He was sentenced to death. Fortunately, he had friends, senior officers who knew his real value and pleaded for him.’

  ‘Nerva?’

  ‘He was one of them. The case was taken before the Governor of Germania. He couldn’t dismiss the charges or contradict a tribune in public, but he was able to spare my father’s life, for all the good that it did. He was dishonourably discharged and sent home in disgrace.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘When he came back to Rome he was a different man, as if something had broken inside him. Before he died he told me the truth about what had happened.’ He gritted his teeth at the memory. ‘I was so angry.’

  ‘He didn’t do anything wrong.’

  ‘I know. I wasn’t angry with him, at least not at first. I was angry at Rome, at the Tribune who’d punished him when he’d been doing the right thing. I hated Rome back then.’

  ‘But...’ Her brow creased. ‘I don’t understand. If you hated Rome, then why did you join the army?’

  ‘Because I was young and alone. I wanted to belong somewhere, to redeem our family name, too. I thought that if I could reclaim my father’s position then it would prove that he hadn’t been the one in the wrong after all. I kept his sword, this sword, to remind me of that purpose.’

  He reached a hand to his belt and sighed. ‘But people treated me as if I were the traitor, as if I were responsible for his crime, and then I turned against him, too. I felt as though he’d abandoned me, as if he’d put his men ahead of me and left me to fend for myself, having to face all the insults and beatings on my own. I started to believe all the things they said about him, that he’d been foolhardy and stubborn. I started to believe that I ought to be ashamed.’ He shook his head. ‘I still wanted to become Senior Centurion, but I forgot why I wanted it in the first place. I forgot that I was doing it for him as well as for me. I had a choice between him and Rome and I chose Rome. I betrayed him, not the other way round.’

  ‘You’re being too hard on yourself. You were young.’ She stood up in front of him. ‘How do you feel about him now?’

  ‘Now I feel the way I did when I was a boy. I loved him and he loved me. He would never have betrayed me. He only ever tried to do what was right. I see that now, thanks to you.’ He lifted a hand tentatively to her cheek, gently caressing the skin with the backs of his knuckles, half-expecting her to flinch. ‘I might have been a slave of Rome, but you set me free.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Are you?’ She didn’t look it with her brow still furrowed. ‘Livia, what is it?’

  ‘You said that the Tribune who condemned him was a man like Scaevola. Is that why you married me? Revenge? Is that why you played that game of tabula?’

  He cupped her cheek in his palm as he took a few seconds to consider the idea properly. Nerva had asked him the same thing. Had revenge been a part of it? Had he been mistaken in his motives there, too? No, this time he was certain. As much as he’d enjoyed defeating the Tribune, that hadn’t been the reason he’d played.

  She put a hand on his arm before he could answer. ‘It’s all right. I understand and I’m sorry about your father, truly. For what it’s worth, I think he was an honourable man. He did the right thing, even if Rome didn’t think so, and you’re a good man, too. Whatever the reason you married me, you saved me from Scaevola and Tarquinius and I’m grateful. I’m only sorry that I’ve made life even harder for you.’

  ‘You haven’t...’

  ‘I have.’ Her fingers tightened. ‘You made an enemy of a senior officer just to protect me. You put your career at risk and if anyone finds out about my mother then you’ll have an even harder time becoming Senior Centurion. That’s what you need to do, to fulfil your ambition for your father’s sake. Julia and I can go away and live somewhere else—’

  ‘No!’ he interrupted her fiercely. ‘I don’t want you to go away. I thought I was angry because I risked my career for you, but you made me realise how worthless that ambition was, at least in the way I was pursuing it, without emotion, without love. I won’t let ambition rule my life any more. If I become Senior Centurion, then I’ll do it the way I want to do it, as the man I want to be, my father’s son. Your husband, too, if you’ll still have me? And I don’t want you to deny who you are or lie about who your mother was either.’

  ‘Do you mean it?’ Her eyes were bright with emotion.

  ‘Yes. I lost my way before, but I won’t do it again. I think I always knew it deep down. That’s why I risked my sword for you, because I knew some things were more important. I knew that you were more important. You still are. That game had nothing to do with revenge, Livia. I played because I couldn’t stand the thought of Scaevola laying so much as a finger on you.’

  ‘You didn’t want him to touch me?’ Her voice sounded faintly husky.

  ‘I didn’t want any other man to touch you. I wanted to be the one to do that.’

  ‘But I thought...’ She licked her lips, as if she felt the need to moisten them. ‘On our wedding night, you didn’t...and then the other night...’

  ‘On our wedding night, you needed time with your daughter. The other night you seemed tense and I didn’t want to force you into anything.’ He raised both hands to her face this time, cradling it gently between his fingers. ‘It wasn’t that I didn’t want you.’

  ‘So you do want me?’

  He leaned closer, sensing rather than seeing her sway towards him, too. ‘I want you as much as I did the first time I saw you, more than any woman I’ve ever met. Whatever our reasons for marrying, whatever our loyalties, you were right—there is a bond between us. We belong with each other and I want you, Livia. Now.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A swell of desire surged through her body, building in heat and strength as it went. Livia closed her eyes, swept up in the feeling. His words made her feel warm inside, too. There was a sense of rightness to them, as if this truly was the place she belonged, not outside on a wall between two enemies, but here in the arms of a man who understood how it felt not to belong.

  She skimmed her fingers across his chest, amazed as always by its breadth, and for a moment her thoughts skittered back to Julius. He’d been reasonably tall and well built, but nothing like this... She pushed the thought aside. She didn’t want to think about her first husband, not now. The only man she wanted to think about was the one standing in front of her. No, she corrected, she didn’t want to think at all. She only
wanted to feel.

  ‘Livia?’ Marius’s voice was a low rumble, a vibration she seemed to feel in every part of her body. ‘If you don’t want me, tell me now.’

  She didn’t answer, flexing her fingers by way of response. He didn’t ask again, taking a step back to pull off his mail shirt before wrapping his hands around her waist and hauling her against him again, so close that she could feel the strong pulse of his heartbeat pounding against her breast. Her own pulse fluttered faster to meet it, as if they were beating a rhythm together, one body already.

  She lifted her face and then his lips fell upon hers, meeting them with an intensity equal to her own. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, tasting and sucking and stroking as his hands explored her body, trailing their way down the long column of her back and over the curve of her bottom, drawing her ever closer towards him.

  She moved her hands, too, sliding them fervently over his shoulders and around the back of his head, holding his face against hers. Every part of her body seemed to be aching, straining towards him before they broke apart finally, both of them gasping for breath.

  ‘Take off your clothes.’

  He spoke like a centurion, issuing the words like a command, and she smiled, toying briefly with the idea of refusing him. But she didn’t want to refuse. Instead she pulled herself loose from his grasp, dodging backwards as his fingers tightened convulsively, and then reached down, grasping the hem of her stola and pulling it over her head along with her tunica.

  His expression didn’t alter, though his breathing seemed to become even more ragged as he looked her up and down, taking in every inch of her body. She kept her arms at her sides, unmoving, making no attempt to cover herself, basking in the heat of his gaze. There was no criticism in it. For the first time in her life she felt as if she were being looked at as the person she truly was, as an equal, not a barbarian or someone who ought to be ashamed, but simply as herself.

  ‘Now you.’ She challenged him with the words and he did as she asked, unfastening his sword belt and greaves and setting them aside before removing his tunic in one sweeping motion.

  She caught her breath at the sight of him. In broad daylight his chest looked just as impressive as it had the first time, though more damaged, too, pitted with scores and bruises.

  ‘What happened?’ She pressed a hand tenderly against one of the scars.

  ‘I’m a soldier. It’s part of the job.’

  ‘But these bruises look recent.’ She grazed her fingers over his abdomen, the muscles seeming to ripple as she touched them. ‘From yesterday?’

  ‘Probably.’ His voice sounded almost hoarse. ‘Livia...’

  ‘Won’t it hurt you if we...?’

  He claimed her mouth again before she could finish the sentence, kissing her thoroughly before growling a protest against her lips. ‘It’ll hurt me more if we don’t.’

  ‘Then you’ll need to remove these, too.’ She smiled and tugged at the drawstring of his braccae, hearing his breath catch as the male part of his body strained beneath.

  He gripped her wrist, holding it in one hand while he removed his braccae and boots with the other, his gaze never leaving hers until he stood naked before her.

  ‘Oh!’ She couldn’t help but look downwards. In ten years of marriage, she’d never seen that part of Julius. Then she couldn’t stop herself from staring.

  ‘Do I pass inspection?’ There was a hint of amusement in his voice and she lifted her gaze again, her cheeks burning.

  ‘Yes.’

  He moved suddenly, lifting her up in his arms and carrying her across to the bed. She tipped her head back as he laid her down in the centre, overwhelmed by a feeling of exquisite pleasure. Her whole body was tingling with a surfeit of new sensations, each one seemingly stronger than the last as his hands moved skilfully over her limbs, starting at her ankles and then moving upwards, pushing her legs apart as he bent his head to press kisses over her calves and between her thighs.

  ‘What are you doing?’ She didn’t know whether to feel shocked or excited.

  ‘Haven’t you ever been kissed here?’

  ‘No.’ His voice was so deep it set all her nerve endings to quivering. She’d had no idea that anyone might want to kiss her there.

  ‘What about here?’

  His lips moved higher, hovering over her skin for a moment before his tongue darted outwards. She gasped aloud, seized with the powerful desire to start moving, to match the rhythm of her own heartbeat, pounding so heavily now that she could almost believe the whole room was shaking along with it. She’d never moved so much as a muscle in bed with Julius, had never even considered it, but now she felt as if she couldn’t keep still. She didn’t want to keep still.

  ‘Or here?’ The tongue darted outwards again and she groaned.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I told you your husband was a fool.’ Marius lifted himself up on his forearms, moving up the bed until he was covering her. ‘I intend to kiss every part of you.’

  ‘Every part?’ She felt as though she were panting.

  ‘Unless you have any objections?’

  ‘None at all.’

  He smiled slowly and she reached up, trailing her fingers down the sides of his face as he lowered his head and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She sighed into his mouth as she slid her arms around his waist, feeling as if every part of her were being caressed at once. At that moment, with their naked bodies moulded together, she didn’t want to move. She simply wanted to lie there beneath him, to enjoy the feeling of contentment, the heady sense of warmth and mutual desire and togetherness.

  Then he kissed her again, more deeply this time, and the feeling of contentment faded and raw need took over, bringing with it a throbbing sensation between her legs that seemed to intensify almost to fever pitch as she clasped her arms tighter around him, wanting more.

  ‘Livia.’ He murmured her name and she lifted her body, twining her legs around his and tilting her hips up towards his manhood. She was acting brazenly, but she didn’t care. She felt abandoned and powerful, as if all the years of frustration and loneliness had led her towards this, this feeling of rightness accompanied by a fervency of emotion. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the hardness between his, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

  He must have felt the same way because he pushed inside her suddenly, entering her body in one powerful thrust. She sucked in a breath as her muscles tightened around him, stunned by a feeling of fullness, as if he fitted inside her perfectly. He groaned at the same time and then they were moving together, their lovemaking faster and deeper and more overwhelming with each thrust. She moved instinctively, writhing and bucking against him, pushing upwards and then retreating, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she felt herself building to some kind of completion.

  Then a trembling sensation overtook her, a sudden spasm as if something inside her had burst. She heard herself cry out and then Marius, too, felt the warmth of his seed in her belly, but she was only vaguely aware of it, her whole body shaking with a dizzy sense of elation and happiness. Then he moved to one side, pulling her with him, and she tumbled downwards, dazed and satiated, on to his chest.

  * * *

  She didn’t know how long they lay there, only that the air was cold and the shadows were lengthening across the room by the time she awoke. It felt fitting, seeing as her whole world seemed to have changed.

  ‘Marius?’ She ran her hands over one of his biceps, marvelling anew at the hard contours of his body.

  ‘Mmm?’ He didn’t open his eyes though his arm tightened around her.

  ‘Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?’

  He gave a low chuckle. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘So what do we do now?’

  ‘I can think of a few things.’

  Green eyes opened lazily, regarding her with a wicked
-looking gleam, and she batted a hand against him.

  ‘You know what I mean. What now for us?’

  He heaved a sigh and rested his spare arm behind his head. ‘Now we do the best that we can. I’m still a soldier of Rome and that means I have to defend the frontier. I made an oath and lives might depend upon it.’

  ‘I know.’ She rested her chin on his chest, looking soberly into his face. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to do otherwise.’

  ‘Livia.’ He tugged her closer again, frowning slightly. ‘I understand that you have divided loyalties and I won’t ask you to choose between Caledonia and Rome, but I need to know you won’t do anything to help the rebels either.’

  ‘I won’t, I promise. Julia’s in Coria. I want her to be safe and... What?’

  There was a sound of running footsteps in the corridor and she shot upright in alarm, clasping the blanket to her chest.

  ‘Centurion Varro?’ A soldier burst through the doorway without knocking.

  ‘The rebels?’ Marius was out of bed in a moment.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The soldier’s expression turned from urgent to apologetic as he averted his gaze quickly. ‘They’re attacking the west tower.’

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘They’re attacking now?’ She scrambled to a crouching position as the soldier ran off again. ‘But it’s almost night!’

  ‘It’s dusk.’ Marius was already strapping his armour back on. ‘I should have expected something like this. Here.’ He held out his gladius. ‘Stay here, barricade the door and take this.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t want it.’

  ‘It’s not a question of want. You need it.’ He leaned over the bed, touching his forehead against hers. ‘I’ll find another weapon, but take this one for me, please, Livia. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need to know you can defend yourself.’