For a Roman's Heart

by Denise A. Agnew

  Cordus sighed. “Alas, I do not. I married as soon as I became a centurion and my wife and I didn’t conceive for quite some time. We only have Decima Prima Cordia. Or Cordia, as we call her.”

  Victor ate his food with relish, stopping only long enough to say, “We heard that the tenant living in the long house is your freedman.”

  Cordus nodded. “Indeed, he is. I bought him when he was fourteen years old, but freed him as a young man.” Cordus clapped his hands and this time a slave woman of about sixteen entered. “Bring us more wine.” The girl scampered to do his bidding.

  Terentius relaxed, but then two women walked in and changed the tone. Both Terentius and Victor stood as the women came to the center of the room.

  Cordus stood and took the older woman’s hand. “My dear Nerva, let me introduce Centurion Terentius Marius Atellus and his optio Domitius Quintus Victor.” Cordus gestured to the younger woman. “Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Cordia.”

  Terentius and Victor saluted the women. Terentius hadn’t seen such refined, pretty women in a long time. The wife looked about fifty and had long, elaborately designed blond hair piled atop her head. Her features were regular, her jaw narrow, and her eyes a bright blue. Her lithe body appeared toned and slim beneath her flowing white and blue tunica. Cordia’s finely crafted features were gamin and sweet. Wheat blond hair like her mother’s twisted atop her head and tendrils fell about her ears and to her shoulders in a design obviously made to capture a man’s fancy. Her pale blue eyes shined at Terentius with an impish, delightful quality. She couldn’t be more than sixteen. Tall like her mother, she had grace and delicate tone of voice as seductive as the wine he consumed. Now this is the type of woman Terentius knew he should find attractive.

  Not Adrenia, the daughter of a former slave.

  He knew that Cordia, at such a young age, would be manageable. A woman at twenty or so, like the pale-faced Adrenia, would have her own mind.

  Adrenia’s face superimposed over Cordia’s, and Terentius realized that Cordia’s beauty stirred mild interest and appreciation. That was all.

  Adrenia, on the other hand…

  “Please my dear Nerva, Cordia, join us. I’m sure the gentlemen don’t mind,” Cordus said.

  Nerva and Cordia settled on the long couch next to Cordus.

  Nerva accepted a goblet of wine from a slave. “Perhaps we should leave you men to your war talk?”

  “We are wise enough to change topics when there are ladies about, aren’t we?” Cordus said as he looked at the other men.

  Nerva’s soft laugh floated on air. “Nonsense. We’re glad to express our thanks that more brave, strong Roman soldiers are coming to protect our small city.”

  Terentius didn’t gloat over the flattery. He recognized conversational bullshit when he heard it. “Thank you.”

  Cordus gestured around the room. “Our livelihood depends on safety and security. For the last few months some of the villagers have incited riots. Some worry that a revolt will happen like the one that happened back in sixty.”

  Victor scoffed. “As in ancient Boudica?”

  Cordus nodded. “Exactly such. And the women never go out alone. There are women who’ve disappeared off the streets and are never seen again. Some women at the farmsteads on my land won’t work outside their houses.”

  A weird feeling crawled up Terentius’s spine. “How many women have disappeared?”

  Cordus shrugged. “It’s all rumor, but they say perhaps ten in the last several weeks.”

  “On Mercury’s cock.” Victor sent a disbelieving look toward Terentius. “I’ve never heard such a thing.”

  Nerva tilted her chin upward, an uninterested coolness in her eyes, as if she’d heard of atrocities like this so many times they failed to move her. “Let us speak of more pleasant subjects, shall we?”

  Conversation centered on mundane topics and Terentius started to feel restless. Insignificant pleasantries often bored him. He stood and wandered toward the doors leading to the courtyard. Outside the day remained bright, but darkness would fall fast in this clime. Though they were in the same room, Victor, Nerva and Cordus talked at one side of the room and Cordia wandered up to Terentius.

  Cordia’s gaze unnerved him—the way she looked at him suggested a feline stalking a mouse. In defense, Terentius launched into a formal discussion of the villa and how remarkable he found it. “This villa is much like the one I grew up in.”

  Cordia smiled. “Impressive. Was your villa this large?”

  Terentius nodded as unwanted thoughts generated unease inside him. “Yes.”

  Cordia’s smile turned to a petulant pout. She leaned forward, and her breasts pushed against her garments. “Do tell me more. Did you have many slaves?”

  “A few.”

  “Your family must be wealthy.”

  Searing memories rose to the surface. “Yes. They were.”

  A gleam entered her eyes. The little wench liked the idea she’d found a centurion with money. Fuck. She stood too close, and yet he couldn’t enjoy her feminine allure when thoughts of Adrenia kept popping into his head.

  He wished he hadn’t mentioned his parents’ villa, but not wishing to be rude, he said, “My villa was near Deva, where my main post is. I’d lived there since I was about sixteen. Before that, I lived in Neapolis, in Italia.”

  “I thought I detected an accent,” Cordia said. “I’m very good at telling what regions a person might hail from.”

  Terentius thought he sounded as British as the rest of the people around here. It had been a damned long time since he’d lived in Italia. “Do you speak any local dialects?”

  She drew in a slow breath. “Not really. I prefer to speak Latin. Honestly, it’s the language of the Roman citizenry. Why would I want to learn anything else?”

  Her snobbery didn’t surprise him. He didn’t believe what he said next, but arguing with her didn’t feel right at this time or place. “Indeed. A young woman of delicate sensibilities and nature has no need of such things.”

  Something flashed in her eyes, as if she couldn’t tell whether she’d been insulted. She stood even closer, her hand brushing his arm. “Have you seen our courtyard?”

  “Your father showed us.”

  “Pity.” Her words purred low. “I would like to show you myself sometime.”

  She headed through the doors, and he followed, a part of him wondering if he’d just made a huge mistake. He stopped just inside the courtyard. A chill breeze played over his body.

  She walked among the hedgerow and flower growth, her path toward the water trickling in a nearby fountain. “Did you have a courtyard like this at your family villa?”

  The chit knew the answer, but he wouldn’t be rude. “Yes, though not as elaborate.”

  Snowflakes fluttered from a lone cloud high above. She walked back toward him, the folds of her garments swirling in the growing wind.

  She shivered. “Sir, I should have brought my cloak with me.”

  “I’m without a cloak or I would offer it to you.”

  “There is a weaver in Duroliponte that I can recommend.”

  He quirked one eyebrow. “I’ll get a new cloak tomorrow from the clothier at the fort.”

  “Oh? How dull. I mean, a man needs assortment sometimes, don’t you think?”

  Are we talking about cloaks or women, little girl?

  For a young woman, though, she played this game too well. “I wear a certain type of helmet so that my men can locate me in battle, and when in full dress, I do look a bit different than the other men. That is my primary concern but beyond that, I am pleased to wear the uniform of a centurion in the twentieth. I thought I’d buy a cloak from someone nearby. What do you think of Adrenia’s work?”

  She immediately stiffened and arched one brow with displeasure. “Well, her work is tolerable, I suppose.” A piqued, heated look entered her eyes as she stepped away from him. Almost as if she wanted to punish him for mentioning Adrenia. “She’s the d
aughter of a former slave. Besides, there are rumors about her family.”

  Curiosity built inside him, along with an anger he couldn’t place or understand. “She’s the daughter of a freedman. A man given his Roman citizenship by your father. That makes her a Roman citizen.”

  She smiled as a silky tone entered her voice. “Why of course. I only meant her weaving is not the best.”

  “What rumors are you referring to?”

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  He towered over her, well aware his height and size intimated some men and most women. “Tell me.”

  Her eyes widened, her lips parting in uncertainty. “Over the years members of her family have gone missing.”

  “What?”

  “Her oldest sister Prima disappeared fifteen years ago when she was just a small girl. Then her only brother, Primus, disappeared three years ago. Very strange. It’s common knowledge around here that the people of Durovigutum do not like that family.”

  Terentius’s brows knitted. “Because they’ve had the misfortune of family members disappearing?”

  “There you are,” Cordus said from the doorway. Terentius didn’t see disapproval on the older man’s face. Relief wended through Terentius. He didn’t want the man thinking he planned to seduce his daughter.

  Or, even more horrible, marry her.

  All three of them returned inside.

  As soon as darkness fell, Terentius decided they should leave. “It’s colder and snowing. While we’ve enjoyed the warmth of your hearth, sir, we will bother you no more tonight.”

  Once they’d said goodbye and their horses traversed the road, Terentius wished they’d left earlier. The darkness, accompanied by clouds, made it so dark a human would have difficulty seeing in front of him without a torch. A good thing their horses knew the track and could see. The snow flurries had disappeared.

  They rode in silence until they’d almost reached the fort. Welcome light poured from the gateway.

  “So do you find Cordia interesting?” Victor asked. “Or maybe you’re thinking about Adrenia. She’s probably ready to expire from lack of a man’s touch. You know, if you’re not interested in her I’d be happy to—”

  Terentius leaned across the inches separating their horses and grabbed the optio by the neck. He squeezed. Words ripped from his throat, harsh and final. “Don’t touch her.”

  Victor jerked out of his grip. “By all the furies.” He rubbed his throat. “Now your true feelings show. You really do want her.”

  “Screw you, Victor.” Terentius’s temper boiled, so out of control he could have beaten his good friend to a pulp. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman since…

  Never.

  “Promise me you will never touch Adrenia,” Terentius said. “If you do, I’ll be forced to kill you.”

  All humor fled Victor’s craggy face. He saluted his superior officer. “As you will it. You know I would never diddle with a woman that belonged to you. If you feel that strongly, you should take her before someone else does.”

  They moved toward the fort at a new clip. Terentius remained quiet, his muscles tense with a bizarre heat he only encountered during battle.

  “I’m sorry,” Terentius said.

  “For what? Practically cutting my balls off over a woman?”

  “No. For believing you’d do it. But remember this. I’m serious. If you even consider touching Adrenia, I will cut your cock off along with your balls and feed them to you.”

  “Sir,” Victor said, apparently convinced of Terentius’s sincerity.

  “From this point forward we concentrate on apprehending Sulla.”

  “As the gods and goddesses will it.”

  Terentius nodded, his confidence undeniable. “As the gods and goddesses will it.”

  Chapter Four

  “An evil life is a kind of death.”

  Ovid

  Roman Poet, BC 43–c. AD 18

  “Adrenia.”

  Adrenia started and turned to face the male voice. Her heartbeat galloped headlong. Sulla stood at the side of her home, his sudden appearance an unwelcome development. She hated him.

  She didn’t return his smile. “Sulla.”

  His blond hair fluttered in the wind like a boy’s after a game of rough and tumble with rowdy companions.

  He crossed muscular arms over his blue tunic-clad chest. “You don’t sound pleased to see me.”

  She folded the cloth on her lap into sections, more to ignore his almost wild-eyed attention. His icy gaze always sent shivers racing up and down her spine.

  Also ignoring his statement, she said, “My father is in the fields. He should be back later.”

  “Then perhaps you could offer me hospitality while I’m waiting?”

  Oh goddess. She did not look forward to having him in the house. “Mother is inside. I’m sure she’d be delighted to entertain.”

  He tilted his head to the side, a curious and cunning light in his eyes. “I see. What are you working on there?”

  “I just finished weaving these garments for the market.”

  He moved closer, and when he sat on the bench, she stiffened. He didn’t smell unpleasant—at the very least he must visit the baths. Yet she didn’t like his presence so near. She didn’t look at him. An ant traveling the ground near her boot garnered more of her attention. Let him think her dim-witted if he would. The more he underestimated her, the better.

  He placed an enormous hand over her folded fingers. Heat poured off his skin, and she stared in fascination at the scars crisscrossing the back of his hand. He had ugly, monstrous hands. She remembered Terentius’s hands—they were every bit as large as Sulla’s, almost as scarred. But somehow Terentius’s fingers were sculpted into exquisitely well-carved masculinity.

  Before she could form any response to his gesture, she looked up, and he smiled. His white teeth and wide grin sent a hot and cold sensation through her, as if he could somehow see the deep-rooted fear she harbored of him. Perhaps he could. If she could sense things about other people, surely someone else could as well.

  “Do not be afraid of me, Adrenia.”

  “Who said I was afraid?” She slipped her hands from under his and placed them on her thighs. “You shouldn’t touch me this way unless there is an understanding...an intimacy.”

  Sulla’s golden eyebrows rose a higher on his forehead. “I think I understand you and you me. We could arrange something mutually beneficial.”

  A shiver worked its way up her spine, but she couldn’t restrain her next words. “What do you propose? I know nothing about you, sir. You are a recent arrival in Durovigutum. So far I’ve seen you buy a slave for my father, and the slave never returned with you. Why is that?”

  His jovial expression faded into sharp edges that created grooves along his mouth. He might be her age, but he looked older and filled with experiences she didn’t want to know existed in the world.

  “She ran away. I lost her somewhere near the Haunted Woods.”

  Alarm curled inside Adrenia. She recognized a lie, and his statement confirmed what she suspected. Something had gone horribly wrong for the girl.

  Adrenia forced herself to take in Sulla’s now sullen face. “The Haunted Woods? Why would you go near there with her? It is out of the way from the market to our home.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. The frozen, brittle sound made her blood run equally cold. “Did you think if I bought her I wouldn’t have use for her first?”

  Her lips parted in instinctive protest as anger roiled in her gut. “Did she escape before or after you had use of her?”

  He shifted closer. “Perhaps you want a detailed account? Do you find interest in vicarious sexual relations?”

  Fear crawled under skin. Sulla was a snake. An asp that hunted for sustenance in her garden. She knew, with the forethought that sometimes made her life hell, that Sulla had done more than hunt in his life or act the soldier. He’d slaughtered without compunction. Torture
d. Maimed. Her body went cold, her fingers trembling. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap so he couldn’t detect how much her knowledge affected her.

  “Adrenia.” He turned her face toward him, and his fingers pressed into her jaw. “You didn’t answer me.”

  “Perhaps because it is an inappropriate question, sir. But I’ll answer you anyway. I do not see sexual relations as something an unmarried man and woman should talk about.”

  He released her chin and laughed, throwing back his head, eyes sparkling with genuine mirth. “Oh, you are a prize, Adrenia. Surely you don’t think that is how it works with most couples?” By now his jovial state turned harder and controlled. “You must be singularly naïve to believe such nonsense.”

  Used to ridicule, his statement didn’t surprise her. It did add fuel to her contempt. “Are those the words of a man trying to coax a woman into sexual compliance, sir?”

  “Call me Sulla.”

  “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

  His mouth curled into a condescending line. “Sometimes doing the inappropriate thing can be very satisfying.”

  Adrenia dared look straight at him, well aware this continued banter led down a dangerous path. How to escape? Just get up and walk away. Just walk into the house. But Mother isn’t in the house. No one is. No. She now regretted her lie. Better to stay outside in the open.

  Before she could think of a suitable retort to his last statement, he continued. “I think you don’t like me very much. But some of that may be because of your limited experience with men. I do not hold that against you, Adrenia. Many women left unmarried for as long as you are awkward and plain. It stands to reason that most men find you boring. But I like your fire. I think you and I could have many adventures together.”

  She licked her dry lips and wished she was anywhere but with him.

  Adrenia asked the question she knew she shouldn’t. “What adventures?”

  “You could meet me in the Haunted Woods. I’ll show you the way it should be between a man and woman.”

  Nausea bubbled up in her throat. “No.”