The Edge of Honor

by Minnette Meador

  “Bring her here,” a feminine voice called from the dark entrance to the wagon, her heavy accent strange and unfamiliar.

  The two men left the wagon, handing Delia from one to the other like a sack of grain. The jolt when the first threw her to the second forced a grunt from her lungs and the baby kicked the inside of her womb.

  “Careful,” the woman hissed. “Do not damage her, dullards. She is worth her weight in gold…and the baby will bring a fine fee, but only if it is not damaged.”

  The words made Delia’s heart sink.

  Slavers .

  She had known them all her life and detested them. Brutal and savage, slavers had been brought in by the Romans sixty years before. They were scarce on the island until the fall of Boudiga. Thousands of new slaves glutted the marketplace when the Iceni and Trinovantes fell under Rome’s condemnation and slavers had flooded the province hoping for a cheap purchase. They carried Britons off in droves to service Rome and the other provinces, most of them women and children. Marius and Delia had managed to save a few, but slavers were clever, well motivated, and everywhere.

  “She is awake,” the man holding her said.

  Delia struggled to get away, but the woman grabbed her face and made her stare into a pair of milky brown eyes. The woman’s face was ancient, toothless, and pitted from seasons outdoors. Her dark gray hair, pulled away from her face, made the large cloudy eyes pop out. Delia struggled harder, but the bent old woman’s hand was iron on her face.

  “Feisty.” Her lips curled around her gums and a dry chuckle escaped her throat. “I like feisty, spirit. You are beautiful, worth much to me and my children.” She eyed the two massive men standing with her. “The baby, more. You behave and we will make sure your child lives. You fight and we are not so sure. You understand?”

  Delia nodded and the woman motioned the man to put her down. Once on her feet, the woman removed the gag and signaled the man to untie her.

  “Forgive the bonds, but you talk loudly in your sleep and wake my guests.”

  A gnarled finger came out of a hidden pocket and pointed to her right. Delia turned to see three wagons topped with bars, a dozen men in two of them. They were dirty, dejected and most sat with their faces buried in their hands or staring hotly from behind the bars. Some were foreign with very dark skin and black eyes. Others were fair with shocks of red or blond hair. Britons. Delia recognized the tattoos on three men. Iceni.

  She was amazed Iceni tribesmen still lived. A third wagon, closer to them, held a fourth Briton, a Trinovantes by his markings, who leaned against the bars with his arms folded, watching her. He was larger than the rest. The muscles on his arms were smooth hills glistening in the failing light folded on top of a massive chest. Delia had never seen a Briton this large. He ran an unveiled blue-eyed gaze from under his brow, scanning her body. It made her uncomfortable, but the obvious lust gleaming from those eyes and the smirk dusting his full lips, sparked something else as well. He was a very handsome man.

  “You have caught the eye of the best gladiator in Briton, girl. My prince does not choose many women. You should feel honored.”

  The wrinkled women grabbed Delia’s arm and, with quick steps, dragged her to the cage.

  “Here,” she shouted up to the slave, “take the girl, then you fight better for me day after tomorrow, eh?”

  With amazing strength, she hauled Delia forward and threw her into the waiting arms of the gladiator. He caught her shoulders in his hands and pulled her forward against the bars, jarring Delia to the bone. He grabbed her face and brought it through the bars, forcing his lips onto hers. Delia could not move while he took his time with the kiss. When he finally pulled his lips away, it was to gaze down into her eyes and snarl at his keeper.

  “Leave us,” he hissed, tightening his grip on her face with one hand and pulling down the fabric at the front of her tunic with the other. When her breast was exposed, rough cheers roared from the other slaves.

  “I want her. Let me have her and I will fight my best for you.”

  He plunged his hand inside her tunic, ran it seductively down her swollen belly, and then up to a nipple. Terror gripped Delia.

  “My prince has appetites, girl, and you will feed them. Open the door.”

  One of the lumbering giants scooped Delia into his arms and carried her to the back of the cage. He set her down, grabbed her by the hair, and sent her to her knees. She clawed and kicked to get free, but it was no use. Ignoring the struggle as if she were a small child, he unlatched the cage door and tossed her inside. She rolled once and the legs of the gladiator stopped her. The door slammed shut before he could move and the twin chuckled deeply until his mother joined him.

  The gladiator grabbed Delia’s wrists and pulled her into his embrace. Glaring at the old woman, he pushed his prize behind his back, and took a threatening step toward the cackling pair. “Close the curtains, if you want me to fight.” He clutched his fists in front of his chest and took another threatening step. “Do it now.”

  The woman’s laugh doubled as she clutched the tattered material hanging at the corners of the cage and signaled her son to do the same. She then grabbed the bars and shook them violently. “Do not harm her, Thane. I need her undamaged and the child, as well. Every bruise will cost you a lash. See to it you do not spoil her. Understood?”

  The tall man crushed Delia’s shoulders in his hands and pulled her bare chest to his own. “If she pleases me, I will not harm her… much,” he added giving Delia a violent shake. “Now go,” he growled at the woman. “Leave me!”

  The curtains closed.

  Delia was terrified, desperate to escape this powerful man and what he intended to do. The warrior inside her stiffened in her back and she raised her hands to scratch him. He was too strong. Catching her hands before they could land, he pushed them behind her back and pulled her closer. Delia closed her eyes against the worse.

  But nothing happened.

  Instead, he let out a deep sigh and let her go. She almost fell to the ground when he left her to reach through the bars and pull an open section of curtain tighter. The sun was going down, making the cage almost pitch black. When a lantern flared, she raised her hand to shadow her eyes. Looking back at her was a face so different from the earlier beast who had attacked her she almost did not recognize him.

  “Highness,” he said, bringing the light toward her. “Are you all right?”

  Delia blinked at him, confused. Had he called her Highness?

  “You…” She was having problems getting the words out. “You know who I am?”

  He set the lamp on the floor and reached to pull her tunic close. Sitting back on his haunches, he took her hands and raised them to his lips. The gentle gesture plunged Delia more deeply into confusion.

  “Scream, Highness,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You need to scream or they will become suspicious.”

  The request would normally have elicited hesitation, but the events of the day made it easy to comply. Delia let out a piercing shriek. The large man cupped his ears with his hands.

  “Nicely done, Your Majesty.”

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  The trace of a smile filtered onto his face. “I am called Thane. Togodumnus, king of the Catuvellauni and the Trinovantes, was my uncle. We have no leader now. Indeed, we have no country. Had we not fought with Boudiga…”

  Thane ran a large hand through his hair, grabbed a bar behind him, and shook the wagon. The ensuing sound caused jeering encouragements a few yards away.

  “Scream again,” he said quietly, and Delia obliged him.

  “You are the last prince of the Trinovantes.” She had heard rumors from some of the refugees that one of the royals had survived. It was difficult to believe. The Romans gave no quarter to either of the tribes that attacked them. Suetonius ordered their annihilation immediately after the revolt. After sending thousands of Roman troops to wipe out the population, they razed the
ir villages, hill forts, and towns to the ground. They even drained the water supply, and salted the ground so that none could live there.

  “Yes,” he said simply. She could see the many scars now, leaving his face, his neck, and arms, even his ears, a patchwork of fine white lines. Her heart went out to him.

  “How could you know who I am?” she asked, afraid he would tell the slaver. It would only increase her value to these people.

  Thane lifted his fingers and touched Delia’s face lightly. “I would know you anywhere. I saw you seven months ago when the liberatio found a group of my people and gave them refuge. You and your husband saved my daughters. I am in your debt forever.”

  “Why were you not with them?”

  Thane brushed his hand together. “I watched from the woods until they were safe. The price was simply too high on my head. I was putting them in grave danger.”

  “You turned yourself in?”

  Thane nodded. “To save them, it was a small price to pay. My wife died on the field fighting with Boudiga. I told the Romans my daughters were also dead. They would be eight and ten now, tall for girls their age, with beautiful red hair and shinning blue eyes. Do you remember them?” he asked hopefully.

  There were so many refugees over the last year she could not bring them up. “I am sorry. I wish I could remember.”

  “It does not matter, Lady.” He gripped her shoulders. “Why are you here? Should you not be with your husband?”

  A stabbing loss ran through her. “They arrested my husband. I am here to try to save him. There is a man in Glevum, a Roman, who can pardon Marius. I am afraid it is too late, but I must try.” The wells of tears filling her eyes overflowed down her face.

  Thane brushed one away. “Then you have not heard.”

  “Heard what?” A hot prickle of panic ran up Delia’s back.

  The gladiator did not speak for a moment and searched her face instead. “Marius has been sentenced to the arena, Lady. We heard of it less than an hour ago. They have scheduled him to fight the day after tomorrow in Corinium. The master is taking me there to face him.”

  “Marius is alive?” The thought shot relief through her, until his words came into focus. “What do you mean, fight him?”

  “I am a gladiator, Highness, one of the best in the kingdom. Regrettably, I will have to face Marius in Corinium.”

  The implications of what he was saying sunk in, pushing her breath out. “You must not… you cannot hurt him. Please.”

  The shadow of a dark determination tainted the sadness in his eyes. He curled the sides of his mouth down and touched her face again. “I do not go to Corinium to kill, Majesty. I go there to die, if that is what the goddess wishes. I will not harm the man who saved my family. Rest assured, Marius will not die by my hand.”

  Gratitude fluttered in Delia’s heart and great tears of joy washed down her face. She could not help the overwhelming emotions released by those tears. Sobs shook her body and she let them come. The indulgence flooded her with every suppressed feeling she had held inside since the day she caught her husband in another woman’s embrace. Thane took her in his arms and held her tight.

  “There was a man,” she finally said, luxuriating in his warmth, “… a man was chasing me in the forest.”

  “Yes, I saw him, a Roman officer. He turned when you skidded into our little caravan. I have not seen him again. Who is this man?”

  “An enemy. I must get to Glevum as quickly as possible.”

  “I will help you.” He grabbed the bars again and shook them, letting out a great groan of pleasure. There were answering calls from outside. “There are horses behind this wagon. Can you ride? Are you quick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I will distract the brothers. You must run as fast as you can, mount, and ride. If the woman catches you, you are dead. She is very strong. Glevum is less than a mile from here.”

  “Come with me. Our chances would be better together,” she said, touching his arm.

  “No, Lady.” Thane pulled his leg forward and tugged hard at a chain secured to the floor. Delia noticed for the first time the manacle around his ankle. “I cannot go with you. Is there something you would like me to tell your husband when I see him?”

  Delia opened her mouth, and then closed it. What could she say to Marius? Her feelings had not changed, the anger, the hurt of his betrayal, were still solid in her heart. Yet, her longing for him, his touch, his gentle words, ached in her belly and left her feeling empty. She missed him so much. The baby moved and she touched the curve of her abdomen.

  “Tell him… tell him I will do what I can to save him.”

  Thane scowled at her and took a step back. “Is that all you will say to your husband?”

  “It is.”

  “He has hurt you.”

  Delia looked away. “I saw him in the arms of another.”

  Thane lifted her chin and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Marius has done this?” The surprise in his voice accentuated the scowl on his face. Delia could only nod. “And yet you risk your life and the life of your child for him.”

  “For my people…” she closed her eyes. “And yes, for him as well.”

  Thane smiled. “You are an amazing woman, Highness. Even when it is impossible, you risk everything to do what is right. Few warriors would have the same courage, I think. Forgive me, but Marius does not deserve you.”

  Delia pulled in a shaking breath. “You are very kind, Thane. I wish I were that woman you speak of, but I am not.” Tears filled her eyes again and she trembled. “I am terrified of failing, full of doubt, anger. Secretly, I sometimes want to surrender. Why should I help him? Why should I help any of them? Then I realize I can do nothing else. My own hubris will not let me stand aside. I cannot help but love my husband, despite his indiscretion. However, my pride will not let me forgive him either. And yet, for all that…” she broke down. “…I would do anything to have Marius back in my arms.”

  She sobbed a very long time inside his warm embrace.

  Thane finally rose, helping Delia to her feet. “I will deliver your message. We have no time, Highness. Are you ready? You will have only the one chance.”

  “Wait.” The danger of the situation became suddenly clear to Delia. “Will they not kill you for helping me?”

  For the first time Thane laughed and the deep bass sound sent a flush of excitement through Delia. “Oh, no, Highness. I am very expensive property. They will not harm the greatest gladiator in Britannia. It would cost them a fortune. Besides, they cannot waste anymore time. If we delay longer, they will miss the match and would have to forfeit the gold they have promised as collateral.”

  He suddenly pulled her close and breathed deeply. “Forgive my intrusion, Majesty. It has been nearly a year since I held my wife in my arms. You are so like her. May I ask a favor… for when you return home?”

  “If I survive, I would be grateful to grant you a favor.”

  “My two daughters live on the western edge of your lands, at least as far as I know. It has been over six months since I have received word about them. Their names are Mabyn and Anwen. Would you… I mean could you…?” Thane’s voice trailed off and Delia could hear the beat of his heart against her ear when he pulled her more tightly into his arms. “Would you see that a message is delivered to them?”

  “Of course.”

  “Tell them… tell them their father loves them, that I want them to obey their adopted family, to learn what it means to be Briton, what it means to be strong.”

  Delia could hear the emotion in his voice, could feel the vibrations from his arms. A single tear dropped from his face and fell against her cheek.

  “Tell them to be happy.”

  In that moment, a wave of compassion cascaded over Delia. The jealousy, the hate, all the doubts about Marius suddenly seemed so trivial. The desire to hold him in her arms once more was overwhelming and her heart almost broke when she realized she might never hold him again. Delia cl
osed her eyes and squeezed Thane for a precious heartbeat, allowing her defenses to fall away, her imagination to put Marius back in her arms.

  “It is time, Lady.” The Briton gladiator nudged her away and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

  With a roar like thunder, Thane shook the bars again and shouted for his keeper. “I am done with her. Take her away!” He pushed Delia to her knees and moistened his fingers to extinguish the lamp. Holding her down with one hand, he spread his feet and waited.

  Before long, the curtains covering the door at the back of the cage fell away. One of the twins opened the door and beckoned Delia forward. A few feet behind him, the other brother stood gloating. Beyond him, Delia saw the horses, two of them, saddled, but un-tethered, crewing on the meager weeds that grew through cracks in the road. Thane rested a hand on her head to keep her down.

  “She cannot walk. Come and retrieve her if you want her. Otherwise, she can stay with me, though she may need some attention.” The laughter coming out of that commanding voice sent shivers down Delia’s back, even though it was insincere. She would never want this man as an enemy.

  The brother grunted and stepped into the wagon. Off in the distance, Delia could hear the raised voice of the slaver woman chiding someone. It receded, and Delia was grateful.

  The man approached them hesitantly and held out his arms. “Give her to me.” The broken Gaelic was so deeply accented it was difficult to understand.

  Thane kicked Delia toward the man’s waiting hands and she stopped just out of his grasp. He took a step to gather her. Thane was on him in an instant.

  Delia heard the struggling growls above her and covered her head. In the next moment, the men were gone. She heard a thud at the back of the cage and then the smack of flesh meeting flesh, followed by a muted cry.

  Moments later, Thane was back with her, holding her arm to keep her from leaping for the door. “Quiet.”

  The whisper in her ear pushed trepidation to its peak and she poised herself.

  The other twin trudged over to the cage and scowled at the entrance. “Tara?” he called, squinting to see into the shadows at the back of the cage. He grabbed onto the sides of the door and hauled himself up, but stopped and glowered at the darkness. “Tara?”