A low moan escaped her lips.
He flinched. He’d seen enough pain in his life. Watched too many legionaries writhe in agony from a well-placed spear wound. Even watched his best centurion run down by a Celtic war chariot, and seen that new recruit from his first legion, just seventeen, bleed out in western Germania. He’d bound their wounds and helped them all as best he knew how.
This was his wife, though, and he could hardly bear to watch.
She screamed, a muffled sound as if she attempted to suppress it. The noise tore through him. Oh, to rush in and attack someone, but he couldn’t take this pain away — the same as when she’d been kidnapped because of his dealings with Lucius and he couldn’t find her.
Aquilus tightened his hand on his sword belt.
One last gasp and Ness felt the pain end. Cornelia held up a bloody bundle. She’d been surprisingly competent for the past hours.
Such skill was too good to last. Cornelia almost dropped the babe. She jumped and caught the child.
“A girl,” Cornelia pronounced.
Ness looked at the child. She hadn’t wanted Aquilus’ babe at all, boy or girl, but a daughter was worse. One had to raise any child and teach them right from wrong. A daughter, though, she’d want to know her place in this world, how to love a man, how to be a woman.
Ness winced. What would she tell this little girl as she grew? Don’t do as I did. Try a new way, any way, as long as it isn’t mine. Would she lie? Tell the girl, ‘no, I am happy. I can teach you how to live, how to love, how to be a woman’?
The baby girl whimpered. She stretched her arms out for the babe.
Cornelia turned away and moved toward the floor. Not that stulte Roman naming ceremony.
“No!” Ness cried. It was her babe, hers. “And I’m not naming her Aquila the first.”
Cornelia looked at Aquilus.
Why was he in this room anyway? Wasn’t suffering the pangs of labor enough without suffering the reminder that he’d chosen to miss Eric and Wryn’s birth and infancy?
Angry tears filled Ness’ eyes as she slumped back against the mattress, too weak to fight.
Turning, Cornelia bent to place the babe on the tile to await the father’s recognition in traditional Roman fashion.
“What are you trying to do, get me killed?” Aquilus grabbed the babe out of Cornelia’s arms. He stared awkwardly at his daughter, as if not quite sure what to do next. Blood from the babe stained his tunic. He crossed the distance to the bed, holding the girl like breakable crystal.
Reaching out, she took the babe from Aquilus, but she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. He stood too close and acted much too concerned. Aquilus standing by her bedside while she gave birth to their babe wasn’t part of the plan when she decided not to divorce him. She preferred to think of him as an inevitable force that would leave soon, just like the last almost four years.
A hot feeling crossed her face as she realized just how disheveled she must look. The thirst that ate at her mouth grew more demanding.
“What do you want to name her?” Aquilus still stood there, still watching her.
“Gwen.” She met Aquilus’ gaze, awaiting his protests.
“You are sure?”
She nodded, chin held high. That’s what she’d call her daughter even if he did record some pompous Roman name in the city birth record. Did female children even get recorded?
“All right.”
That was all? Her thirst outpaced her surprise. She tugged herself up and leaned toward the water jar.
He reached over her and moved one hand behind her back, supporting her as he offered the clay jar. Willpower spent, she flopped back against his shoulder as she sucked in the cool liquid.
Aquilus touched Gwen’s face, then ran his fingers over her silky hair. Even bloody, her baby hair possessed the blackness of midnight, Aquilus’ hair. Ness half-turned to him.
He pulled her closer, arms surrounding her and the babe as he sat on the bed. “She’s perfect.”
“Wait two years and you won’t say that.”
He didn’t answer, just held her tighter as he looked at their daughter.
The warmth of his body surrounded her, calming each of her muscles. She could feel his heart beat. She twisted and her cheek brushed against his shoulder as she looked at him.
He switched his gaze from Gwen to her. “I want it to be better for us.”
Better? She looked into his dark eyes. They could have a life here. Outside, under the melting snows, lay acres of fields just waiting for the plow and seed. Maybe this time things would go differently. Maybe they could find happiness here.
Here? Ness scowled. As if he’d stay here. “You’re just saying that because you’re out of work. As soon as you get a political assignment, you’ll leave.”
Frowning, Aquilus pulled her closer. He pushed sweaty hair out of her face. “It won’t be like that, Ness.”
“Tribune.” Cornelia poked her head back in the doorway. “There’s a man beating down the door and—”
A legionary burst under Cornelia’s arm. “Tribune Paterculi! Sir.” He pulled himself to attention. “News from Germania. A rebellion is underway. The Germanian governor is leading it. You’re needed at once.”
Aquilus dropped his arm from Ness as he stood to face the soldier. “A rebellion in Germania? And led by Lucius?”
“Yes, sir. The whole province is in turmoil. Legate Vocula asks you to meet him at the docks posthaste.”
Aquilus started to say something, but the messenger turned and ran.
Without Aquilus’ arm behind her, Ness slumped against the wall. She watched the all-too-familiar determination grow on Aquilus’ face.
He turned to her. “Ness, I—”
Her bitter eyes refused to show their disappointment. “I know. You’re leaving. Again.”
Aquilus tried to sit down next to her. “It’s only temporary.”
“So is life.” She turned to the wall, Gwen on her side of the bed, and dug her exhausted head into the mattress.
His arm on her shoulder, he tried to turn her back to him. “I won’t leave until tomorrow, but this is colossal. They need every soldier.”
Ness pulled the wool cover around her. At least its warm embrace was dependable.
Chapter 28
Sun reflected off the water, lapping up against wood. Lucius shifted his stance on the deserted Britain dock. A board creaked.
“I thought you said Aquilus built this,” Lucius said to Vocula.
The older man’s lip twitched. “He just loaded the rebellion supplies here. This inferior compilation looks more like your work.”
Lucius rolled his eyes.
“But it will serve well enough when Aquilus shows up alone ‘to flee by ship’ and I arrest him for treason.”
At the word treason, Lucius cast a nervous right and left glance through evening shadows. Unfortunately, his secretary’s large head blocked a significant portion of the view. “Sounds splendid. Where are the escape horses you promised me?”
“After all I did for the rebellion, you will stay to support my purging efforts in Britannia.”
“It was big of you to conceive the whole plot to make me emperor, but seeing how it failed colossally, I don’t think I owe you that much.” Lucius twisted his knife.
Vocula snorted. “Emperor? You can’t even control your carnal desires and you think I would have surrendered the Empire to you?”
Lucius shrugged. “Either way, your rebellion failed and I would prefer not to hang for it.”
“My rebellion! My plot called for the rebellion next winter when our Germanian allies could have crossed the Rhine. You were the one who initiated the rebellion in the spring when the river was impassible from flood.”
“It was Aquilus’ fault,” Lucius said. “He was breathing down my neck. Almost turned up some of your rebellion correspondence to me.”
“A non-imbecile would have burned it. Though I admit the man’s been a thorn in my s
ide ever since he married the Catuvellauni woman and obligated me to abandon forced labor in that sector of the country.”
Lucius nodded. “Good luck with that. I’ll be off to the wilds of northern Britannia.”
“There’s already enough evidence in the Emperor’s hand to prove that someone in Britannia was involved in the rebellion and that someone implicated shall not be me. You stay until I pin the crime on this Paterculi patriot.”
Lucius frowned. “And if that fails?”
Vocula’s thin smile exposed his gray teeth. “I never fail.”
Sighing, Lucius plopped himself on an overturned barrel.
Moments passed as Vocula paced the dock. “Has age completely eliminated the Paterculi ambition? Where is the man?”
Lucius raised his shoulders. “I don’t know. Why would he come to an abandoned dock during a fog-obscured sunset anyway?”
With a sneer, Vocula looked at Lucius. “Because I suppressed the news of the rebellion for the last four weeks, and then sent a messenger today telling him the rebellion had started and every soldier needed to report.”
Lucius widened his eyes. “And you plan to arrest him here? Wondrous plan.”
“If he ever shows up.”
“His wife was due to have a babe around this time. Perhaps that delayed him.” The secretary rubbed blue fingers together.
Lucius jumped. “Ness having a babe? How did you know that?”
The secretary wrapped his cloak tighter. “You told me to spy on him.”
Lucius nodded. “But some things, I don’t want to know.”
Vocula intertwined his bony fingers. “Tell me you don’t want that whiny secretary to escape with you.”
The small man shivered.
Lucius blinked. “Um, yes. He’s important and all. Save him.”
With a whoosh, the secretary released his breath.
“Besides, I promised his mother,” Lucius said.
Vocula dismissed him with a look to the skies. “Promised her? Along with ten score other women.”
Lucius adjusted his sword belt. “More than that.”
Vocula groaned. “I’m done waiting. We’re going to the Paterculi villa.”
Spreading supplies on the enclosed lawn behind the villa, Aquilus rechecked the contents of his saddlebags. He withdrew his sword and looked for the slightest trace of rust, which could spoil a weapon in mere days. He tested the sharpness of the crafted metal on the hair of his forearm.
Satisfied, he laid the naked blade on a bench bathed by early morning sun. He didn’t like leaving Ness the day after she gave birth, but how often did all of Germania revolt? Would Gaul’s legions have arrived yet or just Hispania’s?
The back gate rattled. Strange, any visitor should stop at the front entrance where the handful of garrison legionaries he’d taken from Camulodunum stood guard.
Aquilus stepped toward the gate. The gate gave way with a crash, its lock rusted from disuse.
Five men pushed through.
Vocula, two legionaries, and then Lucius shoved aside the gate. “Hail and well-met friend,” Lucius said with exaggerated cheer.
Jumping back, Aquilus caught up his sword. “You betrayed your homeland!”
Lucius shrugged. “What do they say? Abuse your own possessions and not another man’s.”
“Dada, who they?”
Aquilus rotated on his heel. Eric stumbled through the grass, a hunk of bread clutched in his hand. Around the corner of the archway, he caught a flash of Ness’ golden hair.
“Get inside,” Aquilus ordered. Lucius stood only a pace away now. Aquilus turned to Legate Vocula. “Aren’t you going to arrest this man for treason?”
“Treason?” Vocula shifted his thin eyebrows up. “That’s a big word. Seems to me, after loading eight shiploads of rebellion supplies, you should know the definition of it.”
Aquilus’ sword arm went limp.
“You were so much friendlier three months ago.” Lucius twisted his sword with a smile. “All that time spent together working on… shall we say the rebellion?”
“What?”
Lucius laughed and walked forward. He raised his hand as if to slap Aquilus on the back. The sun glinted off Lucius’ blade as Aquilus raised his sword.
“Don’t look for your gate guards. They’re dead.” Lucius slashed forward.
Aquilus heard the whistle of metal slithering out of scabbards just before four more blades confronted him. He stepped back, edging the bench’s width between him and the men.
Like a snake, Vocula’s weapon flicked closer as the legionaries battered forward by brute strength.
Aquilus’ breath came heavier as he blocked right, cut left, then sidestepped. He could only hold these men off for so long.
Ness raced across the tile floor. She dumped Eric and Gwen into Cornelia’s arms. “Take them. Run.”
The clash of swords penetrated the courtyard. Aquilus stood under the archway, his sword the only thing keeping Lucius and his soldiers out of the villa. Her blood raced. She looked frantically around the room for a weapon. Her gaze landed on the hearth. A fire still burned there. She grabbed a cauldron and began shoveling hot coals into it like a mad woman. Her raw stomach muscles protested as she swung the heavy metal up as high as she could. Dragging a ladder Tullus had abandoned weeks ago along with her, she shoved it up against the open courtyard roof.
The cauldron’s handle dug into her hands. She struggled to make her body obey her. One step, two. Her legs revolted as she hauled the cauldron up. The rooftop’s crumbling cement pressed into her feet.
Below her, Aquilus blocked right, twisting his sword back and forth to meet Vocula’s. To the left, a legionary circled. The man thrust toward Aquilus’ shoulder blades.
Ness bent, stomach muscles screaming, and upturned the cauldron. Burning coals seared the legionary’s face.
Another soldier looked up. She dropped the cauldron and the heavy iron hit him, knocking him to the ground as blood gushed from his head. She stared at her handiwork one moment too long.
Abandoning the fight scene, Lucius leaped for the roof. He clutched rusty gutters as he swung himself up.
Ness stepped back. She glanced at her ladder. Retreating would lead Lucius to the twins and Gwen. She moved toward the edge of the roof and faced Lucius’ extended blade, hands on hips. “Your swordplay as lame as your seduction?”
He dropped his sword a handbreadth. “There’s nothing wrong with my seduction.”
“I beg to differ.” She moved one leg back, bringing her leg sheath within reach.
“Other women haven’t objected.”
“The folly of humanity never ceases to amaze me.” Her mid-section protested as she bent ever so slightly.
Naked blade out, Lucius drew closer, but he turned his gaze to the ground. “Will you throw that sword down now Tribune, or after your wife is dead?”
Dress flying up over her knees, Ness lunged for her knife. She plunged all the force of her hand in the upward thrust toward Lucius’ chest. His eyes widened as he stumbled back. Blood soaked across his tunic.
Ness’ knife shook in her trembling fingers. The weapon clattered to the roof. She wanted to be sick.
“Legionary,” Lucius yelled, coughing blood as his footing gave way.
On the ground below, a man abandoned Aquilus and vaulted to the roof. Ness lunged for her knife. The legionary grabbed her arm. Her stomach burned, pain searing up and down overworked muscles as she balanced at the edge of the roof. The man touched his sword point to her throat.
From below, a hand closed around the legionary’s ankle. She shoved the man’s other leg. With a cry, the man tumbled. Bones cracked against earth then Aquilus stood in front of her, sword drawn.
With a bound worthy of a younger man, Vocula sprang to the roof. No words of bravado, Vocula feinted and lunged, his sword lethal, deadly.
Aquilus blocked the slithering strike and riposted. Vocula counter-parried and slashed with a knife.
> Aquilus sidestepped.
Vocula brought his blade up from the side, slashing forward.
Ness caught up her knife, but the tangling swiftness of their strokes left no opening.
Aquilus looked for a gap in the defenses at Vocula’s side. None existed.
“I’m not Lucius,” Vocula said and slashed forward with deadly accuracy.
Aquilus’ breath came faster as he struggled to keep up with the fire of thrust after thrust.
Vocula slashed toward Aquilus’ unprotected chest.
Aquilus caught the sword flat under his arm, twisting it from Vocula’s hand even as the blood gathered on his own chest. He grabbed Vocula’s now swordless hand.
Vocula thrust the knife at him again.
Aquilus threw him from the roof. A thud sounded, and then silence reigned.
Breathing hard, Aquilus rotated toward her.
He rested his hands on his knees as he bent, sucking in air. “I seem to remember telling you to stay back.”
Ness brushed dust from the roof off of her skirt. “As if you were doing so well without me?” She looked down at the knife handle in her hand, stained by Lucius’ blood. Her stomach revolted.
Eyebrows rising, Aquilus looked to the blade. “You carry a knife?”
“Why else do you think Lucius is bleeding?” The breeze blew the scent of blood up over the rooftop as it scattered the dust of broken stones. Nausea roiled her guts.
“You weren’t jesting all those times you threatened to murder me.”
“I don’t generally kill men I marry.”
The corners of his mouth twisted up. “For me, though, you would make an exception?”
Ness eyed Lucius groaning on the ground and a shiver passed through her.
Aquilus wrapped his arms around her. He smelled of leather and war. His heart, still pounding from the battle, beat against hers. She tried to pull away.
He tightened his arms around her. “Law of nature. A man’s wife vanquishes his mortal enemy, she gets an embrace.”
For Life or Until (Love and Warfare Series Book 1) Page 36
