He eased her down until the tip of his erection grazed first the tiny bud in the back and then forced open the sensitive creases of her saturated flesh.
Delia could not stop the pounding ecstasy that racked her body. Marius held her tight until the writhing stopped. Short, panting gasps escaped her throat and she could do no more than breathe into her husband’s smiling eyes. His laughter was long and rich, reaching deep into her heart.
Without preamble, Marius turned with Delia in his arms and sat on one of the benches among the herbs. He finally allowed her to slide onto his erection.
As the long heat seared into her body, it filled and stretched her, as if it were the first time. Instead of pain, the ecstasy was intense, sending tendrils of pleasure through every inch of her skin. She braced her knees on either side of her husband’s hips and continued her slow descent. Marius took his time. The pace was both torture and bliss, but she cherished every second.
Lifting his hands to her sides, he bent her back to reach the hardened nipples and pulled one into his mouth. Delia could do nothing more than close her eyes and let him take her.
The blindness intensified the sensations of his body beneath her. Marius increased the speed, guiding her up, then down, his hands hot on her skin. He rumbled against her breast, and she fought to keep from going over too soon. He bit deeply into the engorged nipple until pricks of pain mingled with pleasure, heightening her awareness of the bulging heat sliding in and out of her.
Marius buried himself with multiple firm thrusts, building in speed and depth, the length of his erection losing itself in the midst of her body. He plunged deeply into her one last time and his seed pulsed into her. She let her body go with him. The folds of her flesh, the straining muscles, contracted repeatedly around his pounding erection, sucking every drop from him. Their voices exploded against the air.
With a satisfied grin, Delia opened her eyes to touch her husband’s face. A lightning blue leer flashed back at her, stopping her heart.
Quintius was in her arms.
* * * *
“Wake up.”
Delia snapped into the icy dawn with a start, catching herself before she tumbled from the horse. The foggy early morning forest was eerie around them. It smelled of fungus and decay.
Her body trembled and she rubbed her arms through her thick yellow cloak.
“We need to stop.” The swelling around Rheydyn’s eyes had lessened. She had use of both of them now, though she was very pale. “It has been nearly two days. You need to rest.”
“I will be all right.” Delia pushed back the horrible vision of the dream and scanned the trees. “Where are we?”
“Half a league west from Glevum. We will find Afranius and Seneca there tonight, if we hurry. Seneca reads at the Roman forum right after dark. Can you continue?”
A reluctant respect settled over Delia’s numbed mind as she studied her cousin. Rheydyn’s endurance was uncanny; she must be in excruciating pain. Yet, she had not let out as much as a whimper during their journey. Black stains of bruises peeked from beneath the tattered wrap around her hand as it rested in her lap.
“The question is, can you continue?”
Rheydyn shrugged and then clicked to her horse to get it moving. “I can go for a way yet.”
Pushing her animal forward, Delia followed, staring at the tiny path winding through the woods, and her cousin’s slim back. The narrow trail led steadily to the west and Rheydyn seemed to know it well.
“Why would Seneca and Afranius travel to the port in the east? Surely, Portus Ritupis would have been a better choice.”
Rheydyn sniffed and pulled her horse around a log on the path. “Is it not obvious? Quintius convinced them it would be best to come unannounced. Suetonius has troops stationed at Portus Ritupis. If there was another reason, I do not know what it was.”
“Oh.” Delia wrapped her hands around the reins to keep them from shaking, almost afraid to ask her the next question. “You never told me why you are doing this.”
Rheydyn did not turn around. “Surprise you, does it?”
“Not really.” Delia kept her voice low in the dark forest.
There was a quiet snort in reply. “It surprised me,” Rheydyn said. “It happened when I was seducing your husband.”
Delia stopped her horse so quickly it jarred her. The sharp tug on her belly sent pain through her core. “Why do you torment me, Rheydyn? Why do you hate me so much? Was I not kind enough to you? Did I wrong you in some way?”
The beast carrying Rheydyn stopped, but did not turn. She lifted her head to the branches above them. “You let me live, Delia.” The words were very quiet. “I will hate you for that the rest of my life.”
“Why?” Delia whispered.
Rheydyn clicked at her horse again. “Because you saved me once, when all I wanted to do was die.” She let out a quiet chuckle that did not match her tone. “The goddess help me, despite that, I still love you. You are strong and confident, everything I sorely lack. Not to mention you still have your lands, your people, a man who loves you unconditionally…”
“Marius betrayed me.”
“You are a fool, cousin. Do you not realize what you have, how fortunate you are? Marius will never love another…” Delia could hear the regret in Rheydyn’s voice. “…least of all me.”
The realization sent an angry blush through Delia’s cheeks. “You love him,” she spat.
“Yes.” The word was harsh, frosty. “Not that it makes any difference. The sad thing is, at first I wanted to destroy you… and him. You were so happy together. It made me sick to my stomach.” Rheydyn paused for a moment, letting the chirp of birds settle in around them.
“Something changed your mind.”
Her voice lowered. “It was Evyn.”
“Evyn?”
“It was there in his eyes, in his voice.” The lilt of Rheydyn’s voice changed, softening. “I have never seen such devotion, heard such loyalty in a Briton man’s words. He spoke of Marius as if he were his king. Then, when I listened more carefully, it was not only Evyn’s voice that I heard, but all the people in Hillfort, in the surrounding villages. Everyone that you and Marius had touched declared the same thing. For the first time in my life, I saw hope in my kinsmen’s eyes.”
Rheydyn stopped the horse and lowered her head. “They were right, Delia.”
She turned the horse and tears glistened over the wounds.
“You and Marius are all that stand between us and Rome. If you do not save him, the tribes will vanish, the people will be swept away,” her voice turned urgent, “and no one will remember us.”
The force of the words, the intensity of the emotion behind them, sent a rush of fear through Delia. She stared at her cousin. “I will not let that happen.”
A shadow of a smile dusted Rheydyn’s blackened lips. “I know, Cousin. That is why I lead you to Glevum. You must convince the emperor’s counselors. You must lead them to stop Quintius and Suetonius.”
There was a whisper of sound, a soft whish, and then a dull thud. Rheydyn looked suddenly surprised. So slowly, Delia could not grasp it at first, blood trickled from the corner of Rheydyn’s mouth, and she slumped forward in the saddle with a quiet gasp. A black and red Roman spear jutted from her back. Rheydyn drifted from the horse sideways, her hands slackening their grip on the reins. Her foot caught on the horse’s tack and she dangled, her eyes glassy and unseeing.
For a moment, Delia did not know what had happened. She stared at Rheydyn, wondering why she had fallen from the horse.
When the scene finally clarified, Delia did not have time to release even a cry. Another wisp of sound pricked her ears from behind. Instincts flared.
She dug her heels into the horse. It whinnied once and charged past the other startled animal. To her right, a red-tipped javelin blurred through the air and landed with a thump in the soft ground. She passed it without looking back. The thunder of charging hooves resounded far behind her and she pus
hed her mount to increase its speed.
Quintius her mind whispered to her, pushing back the shock, the grief at Rheydyn’s death.
She clutched the reins and prayed they could outrun him.
The Edge of Honor
Chapter XIII
Marius adjusted himself on a stool he had been sitting on for hours. His buttocks cramped and his head pounded, not to mention the dull ache of stitches in his back and the various injuries inflicted by Quintius. The trial that started the evening before, had dwindled into the late night, and began again in the early morning. Yet another of Marius’ ex-century was on the stand, extolling the greatness of his former leader.
Suetonius sat in one corner, his arms crossed, and his face livid. Marius knew the general could not stop the men from testifying. He also must have known it was a ruse to gain them time. The general could do nothing about it. Every man who had served under Marius testified. He had lost count of how many.
His time was almost gone, despite Kuna’s brilliant maneuver. They had not seen nor heard from Delia or the counselors. Fear knotted again at Marius’ stomach and he had to push with force to keep it down.
The judge gave a scant five minutes to each of the eighty men to plead on behalf of Marius’ character. This left only one.
Kuna sat at the head of a long line of men, his elbows casually resting on his knees, his hunched back looking oddly large.
Marius regarded Aelius sitting next to him. He was on the edge of his stool, enthralled by the proceedings. Kuna had “volunteered” Aelius to take on the duties as defender, much to Marius’ chagrin. As always, he should have trusted his friend’s instincts. Aelius had never even seen a trial, yet he took to it so naturally, it was as if he had studied law all his life. Marius inwardly chuckled.
That should not surprise me .
A flicker of pride ran through him; his ward would make a fine senator one day.
Quintius was notably absent from the proceedings, having disappeared after Marius’ torture. Marius knew he was after his wife. That thought kept him awake at night and made it hard to focus on anything else. He did not care anymore what they did to him; the urge to escape and protect Delia was the more powerful instinct. He knew it was taking its toll on both Kuna and Aelius, who had to make sure Marius stayed put.
Quintius had documented his case very well. His second asked to prosecute in his stead. Aelius strenuously objected and almost succeeded. Suetonius squelched the protest by vouching for Quintius’ evidence. Not that it surprised Marius; the general had his own agenda, which included Marius’ conviction. Suetonius could not march against the Corieltauvi without it. The judge had allowed Quintius’ second to prosecute the case.
The officer presented the evidence and witnesses skillfully, with Roman exactness. It had taken less than an hour. Marius knew they did not have any defense. Suetonius was right; Quintius had him.
Marius examined the prosecutor sitting next to the judge. The old Roman, Paulinus, Quintius’ second, had drooping, pale eyes, puffed lips, and an insipid twinge that ticked at his cheek.
Marius had never liked him. He had a reputation for betraying a man for a fee, and he always looked as if he was trying to cheat you. Marius liked him even less now, though he had to admit the man was good. Without exception, he had managed to intimidate every soldier who dared to speak in Marius’ favor. The man on the stand now, Marius’ ex-second Leonius, squirmed under his questions.
“…it says in the report you thought your commander was not to be trusted.” His voice was pinched, thin. It grated on Marius’ nerves.
“Yes, sir… I mean, no, sir. I was mistaken.”
“Mistaken?” Paulinus’ disdainful tone permeated the room. “Were you mistaken when you said he was in collusion with the enemy?”
Aelius jumped to his feet and took a step toward the table. “I object to his use of the word enemy, Your Honor. The Corieltauvi were under treaty with Rome at the time and an ally. We challenge the insinuation that the centurion was doing anything but his duty in regards to the situation.”
“Noted,” the judge said quietly.
The hangover still lingered in his eyes, even after two days. A brush and shave did little to cover up the telltale signs of too much drink. Marius inwardly smiled; another brilliant maneuver by Kuna or perhaps Aelius. This smacked of the young man’s twisted humor.
Marius had heard the judge could not remember how he came to that horrible state. Something had spooked his horse, sending him crashing to the ground, knocking him senseless. The next thing he vaguely remembered was awaking in the arms of a pretty girl… naked. He was not certain, of course, since he was quite drunk at the time. It was rumored his wife was sister to a highly placed officer in Rome. The judge looked miserable.
“…and overruled. Continue.”
Paulinus nodded with a twitch and examined the report he held in his hands. Marius could see Leonius’ distinct signature on the parchment and inwardly groaned. He had hoped they would overlook the reports. Marius and Kuna had dealt with the haughty second’s “reconditioning” over a year ago, but not in time to stop the false information from reaching the hands of command.
Quintius had been very thorough with his investigation. Had Quintius planned this from the beginning?
“You say here he was in collusion with the Corieltauvi queen, plotting the overthrow of her brother, King Conall. Now you say you reported falsely. Do you know the penalty for lying in an official report to Rome?”
Leonius shot a quick look to Aelius. “I… did not know at the time…”
“Please, sir.” Aelius was on his feet. “This was all straightened out months ago. Do we need to revisit it here? There are counter reports and Leonius has already been disciplined for this misunderstanding.”
Suetonius unfolded his arms and placed his elbows on the table. He tilted his head, watching the terrified look on Leonius’ face. “All right. Tribunal dealt with the alleged abuse.”
“Very well,” replied the judge. “Dismiss the man.”
His generosity did not fool Marius. Suetonius was after larger prey.
Paulinus dismissed Leonius with a feeble gesture and leveled a languid gaze at Kuna. “Take the stand.”
Kuna stood to his full height. Lifting his chin, his nostrils flared, and he narrowed his eyes. “Centurion,” he hissed.
Marius had rarely heard that tone in his friend’s voice. He sat back. Kuna was angry. Men died when Kuna was angry.
“What?” snapped Paulinus irritably, for the first time looking fully at the Asian.
“You will address me as Centurion.” Kuna’s words were even, forceful, the gleam in his eyes dark.
Paulinus raised both brows and turned to the table. “Gentlemen, I…”
The words stopped when Kuna lunged across the tent, grabbed the prosecutor by the front of his tunic, and lifted him several inches off the ground. The drooping eyes bulged from their sockets and little moaning sounds gurgle out of his mouth.
“Kuna!” Suetonius shouted and several soldiers cautiously approached.
Kuna ignored the turmoil around him and smiled at the choking man. “Centurion.”
“Centurion,” Paulinus croaked and Kuna released him, sending the man crashing to the ground.
Kuna deliberately crossed to the table and brought a fleshy fist down onto the wood. Wax tablets, cups, and styluses bounced into the air landing with a clatter. The judge sank into his chair, but Suetonius did not move. He met the angry man’s gaze squarely. His stamina impressed Marius. The general did not know how close he was to death.
“You are a coward, sir.” Kuna’s speech affliction was gone, the eloquent dignity sharp against the muted sounds of the outside camp activity. He stabbed his finger in Marius’ direction. “This man saved your life more than once. He fought for Rome, for her ideals, for her principles all his life and never asked for anything in return. His blood has soaked your battlefields, his bones have snapped to carry out your or
ders, and he served with honor for more years than your most experienced officers. When other Romans crawled before the enemy,” his eyes were alight with accusation, “Marius stood his ground and won wars for you, for the Emperor, for Rome. How dare you accuse him of treason?”
“Kuna,” the general whispered, “you are out of line…”
“You are a coward.”
Suetonius ran a nervous hand over his mouth and studied the soldiers lining Kuna’s back. “Remove the centurion.”
Before they could touch him, Kuna whirled on his heel, threw one quick glance at Marius, and stomped from the tent.
A long silence hung in the air. Marius regarded the general carefully, but already knew what he would say.
“The trial is over,” Suetonius said to the table. “I…” He stopped to clear his throat and to take a deep breath. “I advise conviction but… leniency in sentencing.”
“What?” the prosecutor squeaked.
“I agree.” The judge had not taken his eyes off the entrance to the tent since Kuna had left. His voice was shaking.
For several minutes, the judge and Suetonius conversed in whispers. In the quiet murmurs, Marius’ mind wandered to his wife’s eyes, the soft billow of her hair, and the pale softness of her breasts. I will never see her again. The thought lumped in his throat. For his own sanity, he had to let go of the vision. Shutting Delia out of his mind took an act of bravery greater than any he had performed on the field of battle.
“The accused will rise.” The judge’s eyes focused on the wax tablets in front of him and the prosecutor folded into the shadows behind the table, hugging a shoulder with one hand, and touching his throat with the other where Kuna had nearly throttled him.
Marius locked eyes with Suetonius. Clamping his jaw against the pain, he rose to his feet with Aelius at his side. The judge stood to confront Marius.
“Marius Maximus Lardanium,” the judge lifted the tablet from the table and swallowed, “you are hereby convicted of treason against Rome.”
The Edge of Honor Page 11
