‘What happens next?’
Helena’s hands stilled. She had no desire to think about that. ‘We wait to see what Zenobia and Androceles do. If they are sensible, they will accept the answer.’
‘I pray they do.’ Galla took some wool from the basket and started to comb it. ‘I used to be afraid of the Romans, and what they could do, but now I fear the seafarers more. Androceles’s son has been calling at the temple twice a day since he returned, demanding to see Flavia or you.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘That there was more to running a temple than being at a seafarer’s beck and call. Quintus told me what to say. I asked him when he gave me his recipe for fig bread.’
Helena gave Galla a sharp look. A tell-tale pink appeared on Galla’s cheek, but before Helena could question her further, the maid rose and hurried towards the kitchen, shawls quivering.
Helena pursed her lips.
What exactly had been going on while she lay sleeping? Soft words for Romans from Galla? She’d never have expected that.
She tapped a finger against her mouth.
Galla had not mentioned any more unruly incidents. She wondered…Then Helena dismissed the thought from her mind. She was seeing romance behind every bush. There was probably a much more simple explanation. Galla had become flustered and had asked the first person she saw.
Helena attacked the pile of wool with renewed vigour.
A shadow loomed over Helena, blocking out the rays of the sun. Her eyes travelled up the bronzed legs and white tunic of Tullio to his strong throat and square chin. Their gazes locked and all she could do was stare.
‘The sibyl’s assistant has returned.’
She ducked her head and tried to pay attention to the wool, to ignore the desire to touch him. She placed the comb down and picked up a distaff.
‘The effects of the drugs and the cave have worn off, if that is what you mean.’
‘And…?’
Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down next to her. His bare leg casually pressed into her gown. The faint breeze ruffled his hair. The faint stubble on his chin was just as vivid as it had been in her memory.
She swallowed hard as the memory of his mouth against hers threatened to swamp her. His gentle touch against her skin. She shut her eyes tightly and then opened them. She was not going to remember and she most certainly was not going to beg for another touch.
‘And nothing. I have recovered.’
She stared across the courtyard, rather than at his face. If she concentrated on breathing normally, maybe he wouldn’t hear her heart pounding, maybe the curl of warmth growing in her belly would vanish. She moved the basket of wool so that it formed a barrier between them. She risked a glance upwards. A half-smile appeared on his lips as if he knew exactly why she had done that.
‘You were right,’ she said to fill the silence. ‘The experience made me react in an unaccustomed way. There is much to be done in the temple.’
‘Do those duties include venturing into Kybele’s lair again?’ His voice became stern.
‘Are you forbidding it?’ Anger surged through her. Typically Roman. He was a prisoner and yet he wanted to control how she did things. ‘What right do you have?’
‘The right of someone who rescued you from certain death.’ He raked his hand through his hair, making the locks spring upright. ‘I’m not in a position to forbid anything. You know that, Helena. But don’t let my rescue be in vain. Next time, take the proper precaution. Use the rituals. They are there for a purpose.’
Helena regarded the pile of wool. She had to say something.
‘The cave is not used very often,’ she whispered.
‘That is probably a good thing.’
Helena picked up a spindle and gave it a vicious twist to set it spinning. Too hard because the thread caught on her finger and broke, sending the spindle rolling on the ground. Tullio bent and retrieved it. Helena carefully took the top of the spindle with two fingers, avoiding all contact with him. She made a show of re-attaching the wool and starting the spindle again. This time, the thread twisted smoothly.
‘My aunt should recover before the cave is next needed,’ Helena said to fill the silence. ‘She is rapidly regaining her health.’
‘I spoke to the sibyl.’
Helena stopped the spindle, not caring that the thread doubled up, and placed it down. A simple action, but necessary. No doubt Galla would sigh in annoyance at a good spool of thread wasted.
‘You never mentioned it. You should have said something.’ Helena strove for a natural tone.
Why had he spoken to Aunt Flavia? Why had he gone behind her back to arrange an interview? How much had he told her?
‘I am saying something now.’ Tullio caught her hand and gave her fingers a squeeze. ‘She summoned me. When I was leaving her apartments, Niobe found me and led me to you. From then on, certain other things became more important. You were in no shape to discuss your aunt’s health or anything else.’
A queer warm fluttering filled Helena. She wanted to think that somehow her welfare had mattered to him. That he had come to save her because he cared about her. But then he moved and she caught sight of his Army belt, hung with a number of bronzes. Medals won in service of the Senate and the people of Rome.
She had to remember Tullio had his own reasons, just as surely as Androceles had his. His concern was not for her as a person, but as someone who could do something for him. His sole interest was her ability to deliver the temple to Rome. That was all. Her heart protested at this bitter thought, but Helena knew it had to be true.
She listened to Tullio recount his interview. When he had finished, Helena stood up and walked to where the fountain bubbled and gurgled. She pressed her hands against the basin. She had to explain. She had to tell him how powerless she really was. She could not…she could never take sides against the seafarers. She turned and he was looking at her with an expectant expression on his face.
‘Now you know,’ she said, ‘it was a mistake, an error of judgement. I’d never intended to allow you to disembark. The sibyl is implacable in her hatred of all things Roman.’
‘The goddess moves in mysterious ways, according to your aunt. It may not have been her intention to have me and my men housed here, but we are, and we have a part to play. I know that for a fact. She did not order us out of the temple.’
‘I’ll need to speak to Aunt Flavia about this.’ Helena adjusted her shawl, hiding her face in its depths. She hated this feeling of being in charge, everyone coming to her with their problems and expecting her to solve them, blaming her when it was not right. ‘Her guidance is paramount.’
He crossed the courtyard in a few impatient steps. ‘Speak to your aunt, and you will see. The Fates saved you for a purpose.’
‘Save me from what?’ Helena drew her eyebrows together. From Kybele’s lair? Or from begging him to initiate her into the arts of love? A few more heartbeats and she’d have been more wanton than the priestesses of Aphrodite, the ones who were rumoured to take coin for their favours.
Tullio stood close enough to touch if she put out her hand even the slightest bit. His red cloak brushed her gown and his finger reached out to touch her cheek. It took all her will-power not to turn her face into the palm of his hand, but to stand there unmoving. A quick touch. A lover’s touch? Helena’s mind shied away from the possibility.
His arm dropped to his side. He cocked an eyebrow as if he knew exactly how rigidly she was holding her body and why.
Warmth crept through her. She should move away, but her feet refused to obey her. He leant forward and his lips touched hers.
The kiss lasted no longer than a butterfly visiting a flower, but a thrill ran throughout her body and set her limbs trembling. The ache from yesterday afternoon returned as if it had never been gone.
‘What did you save me from?’
‘I think you know what I saved you from.’ His voice was all male and doing strange things
to her insides. ‘I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it.’
‘You were right when you said that I was suffering from the after-effects of the herbs. I have a wish to forget my behaviour.’
His fingers lifted her chin and her eyes stared into deep unfathomable pools. ‘Who is speaking here—the acolyte or the woman?’
‘They are the same person.’
‘I wonder. I also wonder if I should try an experiment?’ His hand gripped her elbows and pulled her close. She could feel his hard muscles through the material of his tunic. Her hands came up on his chest. She knew she should push him away. Modesty demanded that, but her hands refused to obey and his arms tightened around her. His mouth swooped down and reclaimed hers. At its pressure, her lips opened and she tasted him. She gave a small sigh and surrendered herself to the latest onslaught on her senses.
A pricking at the back of her neck warned her. She jumped back and his arms fell to his side just as the sound of approaching sandals reverberated throughout the courtyard. Helena moved to the other side of the fountain and tried to compose her thoughts.
What next? Her stomach turned over at the thought of being discovered like that. She should feel more alarmed, but all she could think about was his kiss. She tucked a pin more firmly into her hair and avoided catching Tullio’s eye.
Androceles burst in the courtyard, closely followed by his son, the Lady Zenobia and various retainers. His lip curled as he saw who the other occupants of the courtyard were.
‘It appears the Roman takes the notion of guest quite literally.’
‘Helena and I were discussing temple procedure.’ Tullio gave an ironic bow. ‘I’m a student of religion and religious practices around the Mediterranean. Did you know that libation bowls differ from Spain to Antioch? In Dianium, they are shallower than in Ascalon. Why do you think that is?’
‘Libation bowls?’ Androceles’s mouth hung open and then shut, giving an impression of a fish. ‘Indeed. How fascinating.’
Helena’s stomach knotted when she thought how close she had come to being discovered. It must never happen again. To do so, would be to force her to choose. Her hand touched her amulet.
Was it Tullio’s intention to make her choose? Was that why he wore a smug expression? She tapped her fingers against the side of her gown.
She offered up a small prayer, then took a deep breath. She would never allow such a situation to arise again. She refused to be used like that, to have her own desires used against her. How like a Roman. His seduction would not work. Whatever else she did, she did not intend to become a traitor to her people.
‘Captain Androceles, to what do we owe the pleasure?’
‘We seek further interpretation of the Sibyl’s prophecy,’ the Lady Zenobia said.
‘An audience, if that is not too much trouble or disruption to the temple’s routine,’ Androceles added.
‘You should know the sibyl never explains anything.’ Helena crossed her arms. She was on firmer ground. She knew where she stood and the proper responses to counter this attack.
‘Always her prophecies have been clear, but this one…’ Androceles tapped the scroll against his teeth.
‘Prophecies are not something you can pick and choose, Captain. Prophecies simply are.’
‘Which means, Father,’ Kimon broke in, ‘she does not intend to explain. You are better off asking the wind than getting one of the temple to clarify. You have said this often enough to me.’
Helena started. She had not expected any help from Kimon. She thought he would make the same demands as his father. She gave a wary nod.
‘But I don’t understand this black mist and a thousand voices crying out,’ Zenobia whined, her face contorting to an ugly grimace. ‘Is this a bad or good omen for me? Is Lichas in danger?’
‘Which do you want it to be?’ Helena held out both her hands to Zenobia, palms upwards. ‘The sibyl only reports her visions. She cannot be held responsible for what you do with them.’
Zenobia sniffed—a loud and long sniff. ‘I should have known you would take Flavia’s part, Helena. This was not a good idea, Androceles. I thought so at the time. Flavia never gives anything away. She is worse than the oracle at Delphi.’
‘Personally I would take it as an omen that Rome will destroy those who attack the mainland,’ Tullio drawled. Helena could see the steely glint in his eyes.
‘The seafarers don’t attack the mainland,’ Helena retorted, but she noticed Androceles’s slightly uneasy shifting. A shiver passed through her, chilling her to the core for a heartbeat. ‘The sibyl has cursed any who might.’
‘It is not what the scrolls say.’ Zenobia gave Androceles an uneasy glance and drew her skirt away from him. ‘There is not a word about Rome in here. And, well…Lichas has nothing to do with those raids. He promised me. He is too frightened of his sister’s power.’
Helena felt her mouth go dry. Tullio’s guess had some merit. She could see the looks that passed between Androceles, Zenobia and Kimon. Panic from Zenobia, unease from Androceles, but a positively smug expression from Kimon.
What exactly had the House of Androceles been involved in? What if they had begun raiding again? What then?
There were recent whispers in the taverns and among the village women that Androceles and his sons no longer took any notice of the sibyl and her injunction against raiding. They were confident that their donations of grain and other goods would protect them.
All in good time, Helena, was Aunt Flavia’s standard answer. Kybele will deal with any who cross her in her own time. Not ours.
She swallowed hard and avoided Tullio’s gaze. She had to do something, but not until she had proof. Not until Aunt Flavia had regained her health. Until then she had to hope that it was some ghastly misunderstanding. Her hands smoothed the folds of her gown.
‘Is there anything else you want, Captain?’
‘I wish to speak with you again about stationing some of my men here.’ Androceles dropped his voice and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Rumours of the temple staff being molested have reached me.’
‘Molested? In what way?’ Helena tilted her head, and looked up at the captain through her eyelashes. Someone in the temple was speaking to the seafarers. She needed to find out how much they knew. Or was it, like Tullio’s statement, a guess? She could not react. ‘Pray tell me.’
‘One hears things, Helena.’ Androceles bowed. ‘Perhaps it would be more appropriate if we spoke without the Roman being present.’
‘I think I should hear the accusations against me and my men.’ Tullio’s voice was quiet. He stepped so he was chest to chest with the seafarer, making the seafarer look small and insignificant. ‘Tell me what have we done to dishonour our word.’
‘You are Roman and Romans never keep their word.’ Androceles picked a piece of thread from the corner of his gold-shot purple cloak. ‘Many times, I have heard, the great dictator Sulla spoke out against me and my house, but he never objected to my money helping to fund his election campaigns. He was quite happy to trade with me and purchase my goods. Welcome profit was his motto.’
‘Sulla has been dead for these past three years, and little you say about the former dictator would surprise me. He did keep unsavoury friends. I would ask to be judged by a better standard than his.’
‘You were acquainted with the man?’
‘We were acquainted.’
Androceles sucked his teeth, but said nothing. The pirate captain was deliberately baiting Tullio, but to what purpose? She had to put an end to this.
‘Will that be all, Captain? There are rituals to prepare.’ Helena placed a hand on her hip. ‘I have already tarried here discussing libation bowls for far too long.’
‘Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye. Do give our regards to your aunt. I wait to see if this prophecy proves correct. Black mists in the summer sunshine, indeed!’
With a flourish of cloaks and a stamping of sandals, the company departed. Helena tur
ned towards the hospital and safety.
‘There was another reason for his visit.’ Tullio’s fingers caught her elbow, preventing her from moving. His face had a hard uncompromising look to it. ‘Androceles is playing a game. Surely you must see that he is playing the sibyl and the temple as fools.’
‘What would you have me do—declare for Rome?’
‘Yes.’
The single word fell from his lips and hung in the air between them. Helena’s heart shattered. She had thought him different from Kimon or Androceles, but in his own way he sought to control the temple through her.
‘That is what this is all about, isn’t it?’
His hand released her elbow. Helena thought she detected a slight paling of his features.
‘What are you saying, Helena? What precisely are you accusing me of?’
‘There are many unanswered questions, Tullio. But Androceles has proved a true friend for many years to this temple. He is a very powerful man. He has the interests of the temple in his heart. His offerings are always large.’
‘Androceles is only interested in one thing—himself.’
Helena pushed away the thoughts of the mouldy grain he had foisted on the temple the last time. She had to remember who Tullio was and what he represented. She had come close to forgetting that. She intended to keep it uppermost in her mind from now on.
‘You think to lecture me now on my allies?’
‘I merely seek to warn you.’
‘And he seeks to warn me about you and your intentions. Of the pair, who has proved a better friend to the temple? The seafarer who has brought much needed food and supplies? Or the Roman soldier who is being held here against his will?’
‘I believe you should ask your heart why you trusted me with your secret.’ His voice was low.
Helena spun around on her heel. ‘I panicked. I needed someone to speak to. I made a mistake.’
Tullio’s eyes glittered with some suppressed emotion, hard and uncompromising. ‘I suppose you intend to deny I rescued you. I saved your life, Helena.’
Helena wrapped her arms about her waist and bit her lip. She had made another mistake. She should have remembered her aunt’s maxim that Romans always require payment. She had thought his soft words were for her alone, but they were for the temple. Her only use to him was the temple. She had wanted to be a woman and he only needed the acolyte.
A Noble Captive Page 14
