For Life or Until (Love and Warfare Series Book 1)

by Anne Garboczi

  Then the Celts threw down their swords. Aquilus twisted the big Celt’s hands behind his back before scanning the clearing.

  She wasn’t here.

  A feeling colder than the wind chilled Aquilus. “Where is she?”

  The Celt didn’t answer.

  Aquilus slammed the man against a tree trunk, yelling into his collarbone. “Where is she?”

  The big Celt scowled.

  Aquilus hit the Celt’s head against the frozen bark again. “Tell me!”

  This time the man’s eyes wobbled and he spoke in broken Latin. “This morning, she gone.”

  Aquilus stiffened as he studied the clearing’s edge. A wolf’s cry rose from the mountains beyond them.

  Escaped? That sounded like Ness, but Britannia winter had a lethality all its own.

  At the head of the column of soldiers, Aquilus urged his horse over the crest of the hill. Ness’ village spread out below. Snow covered thatched roofs as the ever-increasing wind stripped leaves and splintered small branches from trees, whipping them across the area.

  Celts peered out of cracked doors as he galloped past the curved houses. “I want to see the chief—now!” The words accompanied by forty soldiers had the desired effect.

  The chief appeared, plaid cloak wrapped against the wind. He stood, boots planted in the increasing snow cover on the village green. “Tribune,” he said in flawless but not friendly Latin.

  Aquilus looked down at the man. “Is Ness here?”

  The chief jolted back, his boot slipping in the snow. “I never interfered in your marriage.”

  “She was kidnapped by some of you Britannians.”

  The chief tensed. “Where is my daughter, Tribune?”

  “I told you. Celts kidnapped her. Then I caught the Celts.”

  The chief clenched his fist. “And now?”

  Aquilus’ voice lost its command. “I don’t know. I think she may have headed here.”

  “You left my daughter unprotected?” The chief glared up at Aquilus.

  “I told her to take guards,” Aquilus pointed out, but this chief listened about as well as his daughter.

  “I let you marry her. I didn’t dispute your claim when you came back to Britain last time, I—”

  “Because you didn’t have the military force to,” Aquilus said, one eye focused on the incoming clouds.

  “But you were supposed to protect her! What kind of man doesn’t even protect his own wife?”

  Aquilus shifted one eyebrow up. “You raised that woman and still expect that I could control her comings and goings?”

  The dank wind cut across Aquilus’ face. It grew colder and Ness was out there. “Find scouts to direct my men in the search.”

  The chief nodded. “In a half-hour or less. But Tribune—”

  Aquilus looked at the man.

  “Find my daughter.”

  “I’m trying.” He needed torches, more water, and possibly some rope. Even his bones felt cold now. Aquilus clenched his jaw. Did Ness have a fire?

  A quarter of an hour later, a line of Celts spanned the village green. Aquilus walked down the row assigning one man to every four soldiers. He only hoped the legionaries knew some smattering of Celtic.

  Almost through the line, Aquilus halted. He recognized that face even underneath a cloak. This time, though, no bruises marked the man’s cheekbones. Yet.

  Aquilus shoved the man out of line. “Get out of here.”

  Cedric raised his hands. “I know this land well.”

  “So do many others and I can use but ten scouts.”

  “Let me. She has always been my friend.”

  Aquilus narrowed his eyes as the snow stung his face. “Friend?”

  A young woman approached, red hair mostly hidden under a deep hood. She handed Cedric a satchel and clung to him for a moment.

  Cedric wrapped his arm around the girl. “My wife.”

  Aquilus’ jaw dropped. “You had a chance at her heart and tossed it back?”

  Cedric’s eyes widened.

  The Celt thought he didn’t know Ness’ history? He might be watching this marriage business come tumbling down, but he hadn’t lived with her on and off for over three years and had children by her for nothing.

  Aquilus looked at Cedric. “You claimed once to understand love. Perhaps so, but you’re a deplorable friend.”

  Above them, a pine branch cracked in the wind and crashed to the earth below. Snow flung up as Cedric shifted his feet.

  “You can come if you must.” Aquilus turned. Sleet iced his face as he leaped into the saddle.

  Dark winter clouds covered the sky, contrasting against green pines. Cold feet shifted in colder boots as the men kicked their horses into canters.

  Aquilus leaned forward in the saddle, scanning the woods in front of him. For one instant, he slid his eyelids shut. “Please keep her safe.”

  Chapter 26

  The falling snow twisted around Ness, slipping through her cloak and boots. Damp clothes clung to her as she stumbled through the darkness. The fog of snow obscured the stars and she’d lost the path hours ago.

  Would Aquilus care enough to answer the ransom note those Germanians had no doubt sent when she didn’t make it to Camulodunum? Pray heaven he refused to go, for if he went, he’d end up dead. She clenched her cold hands. Even the babe only gave weak kicks now and the big Celt had guarded the horses too closely for her to steal one.

  As the first sunrays lightened the haze above, Ness lifted her foot to trudge one more step. “Don’t complain to me, Babe. Wasn’t my idea to take you across the wild wastes.”

  She pulled the wool cloak tighter as bits of sleet cut her face. “Yes, I know. I should have taken guards.”

  Ness’ left leg rubbed her right and she felt her knife. Strange how captors think if a woman is six months with child, they can just bind her by the fire and fall asleep.

  Another step, then another. She slipped on ice and flung her hands out to catch her fall. The crust of ice over the snow broke. Her knee plunged deep in frozen wetness. Groaning, she shoved her off-balance body back up.

  A shiver from the chills that grew worse every hour racked her body. Snowy whiteness blurred her vision. She steadied herself on a snow-covered pine branch.

  An hour passed, two, three. The cloud cover overhead dissipated in the sun’s light, but her stomach cried for food.

  What if she never got back? Ness bit her lip until blood came. She shouldn’t think about that. She searched the sky overhead for some indication of direction, but she’d lost sight of landmarks long ago.

  Eric and Wryn’s faces flashed before her wits. What would the twins do if she didn’t make it? Aquilus would probably take care of them. He’d been interested in them the past three months. She probably should have appreciated that.

  She grimaced. If she got through this, she’d tell him as much before she took her divorce.

  If he lived. What if the Germanians had already killed him? The cold air sliced through her lungs.

  Clambering over a fallen tree, she reached for one of the branches. Her fingers wouldn’t bend. She’d lost feeling in them hours ago.

  Ness’ knees buckled beneath her as she struggled up another rill.

  “Please, God.” Her voice whipped away, up the sloping land.

  From over the hill, a wisp of hearth smoke rose. Breaking into a stumbling run, she blundered forward.

  The world swayed as Ness struggled to open her eyes. Burning logs crackled and a delightful warmth surrounded her.

  A woman stood, back turned, stirring the cauldron hanging over the hearth fire. “Enni?”

  “Feeling any better?” Enni carried a bowl of stew over to her. “You shivered for hours after you stumbled in here yesterday.”

  Across the room, the door opened, blasting cold air. “Marki!” Enni said.

  Closing the door, Marki crossed the space. “So, she’s safe?”

  Enni nodded. “We sent Gavin to tell the men.”<
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  Dirt and sweat caked Marki’s light brown hair and a rancid odor rose from his clothing.

  A wisp of a smile crossed Enni’s face as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

  Ness tried to push herself up on the bed. Her head started to pound and the house swam before her eyes.

  Sparks flamed in the stillness as she sank into the cushion of furs. Some time later, a noise woke her.

  “How is she?” Isobel stood with one foot on top of the other in the entranceway.

  Enni folded thin arms. “Resting.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “Don’t you think you’ve done enough here?” Enni wrinkled her Roman nose.

  Isobel dropped her gaze to the ground.

  Rolling on the shelf bed, Ness tried to keep her eyes open. Isobel looked so young, like a child reprimanded for stealing sweet cakes, but she had a husband and soon would have a child.

  “Enni.” The chill from the door Isobel held open spread through the room.

  Arms crossed, Enni nodded.

  “Cedric went, you know, to find her.” Isobel ran her pink tongue over her lips. “He just got home this morning when the news came in.” She shifted her feet on wind-blown snow. “I wanted him to go. I wanted Ness to be safe, but….”

  Enni said nothing.

  “He respects her. Respects her strength, her power of will. But with me,” Isobel paused, “I mean, I think he loves me, but he doesn’t respect me like that.”

  Enni shrugged. “What did you expect marrying a man with his heart tangled up in far too many places?”

  Isobel drooped and Enni slammed the door. No more strength left, Ness fell back against the furs and everything faded back into dreamy whiteness.

  “She’s back?”

  Ness jerked up at the familiar voice.

  Aquilus stood just outside the door Enni held cracked open. Beyond him, the sun had almost set. He dripped sweat, his eyes bloodshot as if he had less than adequate sleep these last few nights.

  Her heart stopped. The Germanians hadn’t killed him.

  “Yes.” Enni folded her arms.

  “How is she?” The wind blew back Aquilus’ cloak, revealing a torn and dirtied tunic.

  Enni shrugged. “Rest, food, she’ll be fine.”

  “Is she within?” Aquilus stepped over the threshold.

  Enni moved in front of him.

  “I want to see her.” Aquilus rested his hand on the doorframe.

  Enni gave her head a sharp shake.

  “She’s my wife.” The wind whipped Aquilus’ voice into the room.

  Rolling over in the furs, Ness groaned. Always those same words whenever he forced her to do something she didn’t wish to do.

  Thin arms jutting out, Enni rested her hands on her hips. “She needs sleep. Why don’t you content yourself with making her miserable when she’s full strength?”

  Aquilus spun on his heel and left.

  With a sigh, Ness tugged the covers up. In that mood, he’d no doubt have some choice words for her about endangering both their lives.

  Clamping his helmet back on, Aquilus turned away from the native woman’s house. That’s right. Ness hated him and wanted a divorce. His work here was clearly done. He glanced to the path leading to Camulodunum. With the sun setting, the ride would be dark.

  “Tribune.”

  Aquilus turned. An older woman approached from the village side. The woman fixed a searching gaze on him. She had Ness’ eyes.

  “You can break the night at our house.” She spoke the Celtic words slowly.

  Hospitality from Ness’ family?

  “Our lean-to is empty.” Then the woman slipped into the house where Ness lay.

  Frowning, Aquilus turned from the Camulodunum path. Moments later, the lean-to’s door gave in to his violent shove. A dying fire cast shadows on piles of food stuff and various barrels. The curious shelf beds that Celts built lined the wall.

  Was this where Ness had lived that year he worked in Germania? Her alone; that seemed to happen a lot, like on the road three days ago. If he’d been paying attention, he could have protected her. Aquilus scowled. He had told her to take guards, and she had willfully ignored him.

  Tugging his helmet off, he dropped the scale armor and kicked his boots halfway across the room. Unbuckling his short sword, he threw himself on the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to pull the trick he’d perfected in long days and short nights in the army—extinguishing thought.

  No luck. He turned and twisted further into the red wool. Shifting, he dug his elbows into the bed, her bed. What was the use of reading Stoic philosophy if one couldn’t quench emotions at will?

  Throwing the cover off, Aquilus dumped wood on the central fire. Sparks flew, matching his mood.

  Ness meant to divorce him. She’d made it quite clear that she’d prefer a barbarian to him. Had she ever intended to be faithful, even here in this village when she pledged, ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia?

  An imbecilic question. Who plans for divorce on their wedding morn?

  Flopping back on the bed, Aquilus leaned against the rough wall. A tiny bark chest hid in the corner, covered with dust.

  He hesitated for a moment then flicked the lid open. Scraps of bark, wood carvings, and two locks of dark hair lay in the chest. He fingered the objects. The hair felt soft like only baby hair does, his sons’ hair.

  He reached back into the chest. The fragile bark crumbled between too clumsy fingers. Grimacing, he began picking up pieces.

  No use, the thing had broken beyond recognition.

  Morning light streamed in through chinks between wattle and daub. Ness groaned and sat up. The babe kicked inside of her.

  Once again, Enni stood over the hearth fire. Someone pounded on the door. Setting down the cauldron spoon, Enni cracked the door. She exchanged a few words, then walked outside.

  Aquilus entered. In the midst of the Celtic dwelling, surrounded by hanging herbs and smoked meat, he stood in full body armor.

  A raging headache bashed against her skull, her stomach growled for food, and she’d not had time to so much as drag a comb through her hair this morn. Now, before the sun had even fully risen, he’d arrived to berate her about refusing to bring guards. Worst of all, he spoke the truth and she’d have to apologize to him for putting his life in danger.

  She pulled her knees up to her chin and the covers with them. Her hair caught in the wattle’s twigs as she leaned her head back against the wall. Might as well get Aquilus’ tirade and her apology over with. “Go ahead. Tell me why you’re here.”

  He crossed his arms over metal. “I hunted all over Britannia for you after I got that ransom note.”

  “You should have stayed in Camulodunum.” Safe, as she’d planned when she risked her life escaping. “I rescued myself.” She gave herself a shake. He’d ridden out to rescue her. She needed to thank him for that and apologize. The furs shifted beneath her as she squirmed. If she didn’t watch her tongue, she’d have more to apologize for soon, but oh how she hated apologizing.

  Feet planted on the dirt floor, he shifted a cynical eyebrow up. “Barely.”

  No one could make words sting like he could. “I suppose I have to wait until the divorce to never see your face again.” She dug her fingernails into the furs. Those words didn’t even approach an apology. She was just making matters worse by pushing the apology off. She had to do it.

  He rolled his eyes. “Why did you even marry me?”

  Heat seared across her cheeks as she pictured that day he’d walked into her family’s yard and she’d still had tears from Cedric’s betrothal streaking her face. He’d possessed a way of saying things even then, the same stulte charm that had gotten her carrying his third child.

  “I think I deserve to know.”

  Ness sighed. The truth would infuriate him and she hated when he raged at her. Sucking her breath in, she clenched her hands tight against each other and half-closed her eyes. “I wanted to prove to Cedric that I could
find my own man.” There, the words were out and she’d spoken the name he’d raged at her to never speak again.

  “You mean that barbarian rejected you twice?”

  “You’re not furious?” She popped her eyes open.

  “You expect anger because, at the age of eighteen, you chose to marry me to spite an old flame? Half the women in Rome married at thirteen because of parental orders.” Aquilus drew his shoulders back as he spoke, shifting his shoulder plates, but he appeared calm.

  That was all? He in his Stoic pride didn’t even care if she loved him or not? She cared. Her throat constricted as her eyes threatened tears. He’d not told her that he loved her for many, many months now. Even when he’d assumed four weeks ago that she meant to marry Cedric, he’d not tried to win her back by expressing love. Did he hate her so very much? Her body trembled.

  Shoving the covers back, she thumped her feet on the ground. No time for senseless repining, she had an apology to make, then he’d leave, and in three months she’d get her divorce. “Aquilus.”

  He nodded.

  “I appreciate you searching for me.” The cold earth stung her bare feet. She swallowed and the almost lethal dose of pride started down her throat. She’d sworn in the woods that she’d apologize for some of her more vindictive actions this last year as well. “I should have taken guards like you told me to and not endangered your life.”

  He gave her a wry half-smile.

  “I’ve accused you of making me miserable.” She cleared her throat. What was the point of almost losing one’s life if one couldn’t summon some nobility from the experience? “But I realize that since then I haven’t strewn your path with roses either.” Though he’d self-inflicted those wounds by kidnapping her from her village.

  “And?”

  “Let’s part as friends.”

  Aquilus scowled. “You’re divorcing me. Nothing friendly about that.”

  This from the man who didn’t even care that she’d married him to spite another man? “Why would you care? Do you love me still?” Her breath caught. Had she truly just asked the question she’d lay awake many a night wondering over? She tangled her fingers around each other. Would he say he loved her? Her pulse raced through her limbs and she could hear her own heartbeat.