Very few men would have the audacity to attack an Imperial ship, and only one still used the ancient black powder to fuel his cannons. Rulf. The stench that filled the room bore the pirate’s signature as boldly as if he were standing there in front of them. And based on the damage the ship had suffered so far, he would be joining them in a matter of minutes.
At least Titus could recognize the impending danger, too, even if he didn’t know the culprit. Pieces of the sky appeared through the holes in the stateroom roof. He raced across the room for the sword that hung from his toppled throne. “Find a place to shield yourself. I’ll hold them off.”
His attempt to be the hero warmed the worry from her heart enough to choke her laughter. If anyone needed to hide, it was him. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. Rather than insult him, she searched the upturned room for possible weapons.
Outside, the sounds of the battle raged. The sharp chirp of the laser cannons contrasted with the dull clang of metal swords. Rulf’s crew had already boarded the ship, which meant their time spent safely behind the locked doors was limited. For once, she thanked the gods for those annoying metal plates outside the door. No one would be able to enter unless Titus had already given them access to his private chambers.
Another explosion rocked the ship. Rulf wouldn’t let a set of locked doors keep him from getting what he wanted and she knew it. The few times he’d hired her to do his dirty work, he required an airtight alibi for when a rival or a troublesome government official needed to be taken out of the picture. The pirate had the nerve to try and pass himself off as a respectable merchant, and thanks to his reputation, very few men challenged him. This attack, though, would destroy his façade as a law-abiding citizen of the empire. Whatever prompted it must have been large enough for him to risk becoming a man with a death sentence if he succeeded. Unless he thought he would be pardoned…
Anger churned in her gut. This game of thrones was growing out of hand. If they survived this, she was going to tell Titus everything she knew.
More of the stateroom’s ceiling had been blown away, leaving several holes large enough for a man’s leg to fit through. The cracked beams creaked under the weight of the men fighting above them. Sweat beaded on her brow as she watched the battle dance. It was just a matter of seconds before the roof gave way and allowed their attackers access to Titus.
A few feet away from her, Titus clutched his sword. It may have been metal, but his weapon was more ceremonial than practical. The soft gold edge was dull and wouldn’t last long against a battle-seasoned weapon.
His gaze never wavered from the action occurring on the deck. “I thought I told you to find someplace safe.”
“And let you have all the fun?” She tried to keep her grin from showing, but it was useless. After spending three days at the palace by the sea, she longed for a different sort of action. She had been trained for violence, and now her muscles reflexively tightened to spring on first pirate that dared enter the stateroom.
She didn’t have to wait long. A sword hacked away at the weakened roof, creating a wider hole. Then Rulf made his grand entrance.
He jumped through the hole with his sword drawn and a dagger clenched between his teeth. The floor groaned under the weight of his impact. It had been three years since she last saw him, but little had changed other than his girth. He still wore his signature lyger skin sash across his chest, which he claimed he earned by strangling a fully grown lyger with his bare hands, a story she doubted bore any truth.
She couched behind an overturned chair and prayed he hadn’t seen her. For once, the gods didn’t mock her. Rulf’s attention remained fixed on Titus.
“Ah, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said with a sarcasm tainting his flourish. “What a great pleasure to meet you at last. I hope you’ll forgive the abrupt nature of this visit, but once you’re dead, I’m sure it won’t matter much.”
Azurha half expected Titus to show some flicker of fear, but much to his credit, he tightened his jaw and stared down the pirate. “Attacking an Imperial ship carries a death sentence, one I’ll be more than happy to see carried out.”
Rulf laughed as though a puppy had growled at him. “So, the philosopher has teeth?”
Titus shifted his stance and tightened his grip on his sword. He didn’t need to say anything else. His body testified that he was more than ready to defend himself.
With Rulf’s attention focused on Titus, Azurha rolled forward on the balls of her feet, preparing to pounce on the unsuspecting pirate from behind. Normally, her weight would have been enough to knock an average man to the ground, but Rulf was built more solidly than the mountains to the north. She may not be able to bring him to his knees, but she could at least rob him of a weapon and give Titus the upper hand.
Azurha launched herself at Rulf, reaching for the dagger in his teeth. Her hand wrapped around the hilt as she collided with him. He merely stumbled forward before tossing her to the side. Her grip held, though, and the tip of the blade sliced through the pirate’s cheek when she pried the dagger loose. She had the brief moment of satisfaction at hearing him howl out in pain before she crashed against the wall.
Stars bloomed on the edges of her vision, but she didn’t miss the scowl that darkened Rulf’s already roughened features. Blood flowed over his jaw, staining his prized lyger pelt. Then recognition flashed his eyes, and his uninjured cheek rose in a twisted grin. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
He took a step toward her, and panic choked her throat. Her head still swam from the impact. Of all the times to let her guard down and fall the wrong way. Normally, she knew her surroundings well enough to tuck and roll so she’d land relatively unscathed. She tried to make her body obey her commands, but it seemed sluggish and obstinate. Her feet refused to move under her as Rulf took another step toward her with his sword raised.
A loud crack came from behind the giant pirate, and his brown eyes rolled inward, crossing over the bridge of his nose. His sword-arm fell limp at his side, and he stumbled like a drunkard leaving a tavern at dawn. Another thwack followed, bringing Rulf to his knees and giving Azurha a glimpse of her savior.
Titus raised the sword one more time to deliver another blow with the flat of the blade. Fury burned from his blue eyes, and the Alpirion legends of the first Deizians flashed through her mind. Gods, her people had called them. Beings that had fallen from the sun and burned bright with their magic. She’d never believed it until that moment. Titus glowed with rage, his magic creating an aura around him that both frightened her and filled her with pride. Her heart hammered. Her lover was every inch a warrior.
But as he swung the makeshift club at Rulf, the ship rolled to the side, sending all three of them skidding across the floor, followed by an avalanche of furniture. Titus reached for her hand. Their fingers grazed each other before a heavy wooden chest slid between them, pinning Azurha against the opposite wall. The air whooshed from her lungs, and the dagger clattered to the ground. She gulped in a breath and tried to push the chest away, already painfully aware of the bruises and possible cracked ribs it had inflicted. At least now her mind seemed capable of controlling her body.
Unfortunately, the shift in the ship had given Rulf enough time to shake the cobwebs from his head. The dazed expression vanished, leaving a growling bear of a man in its wake. He wiped the blood from his cheek and pointed his sword. “So the little emperor wants to play rough, eh?”
Titus scrambled to his feet, looking ready to wrestle Rulf to the ground if needed. His eyes darted around the room, locking with hers for only a second. He was weaponless, and the best he could hope for was to dodge the pirate’s blade until he retrieved his sword.
Rulf glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll deal with you next. Before the day is finished, I’ll be a very rich man from the bounties you two will fetch.”
Azurha doubled her efforts to push the chest off her, ignoring the sharp pain in her rib
s that made her eyes water. She refused to watch Titus die. As long as she still breathed, she’d continue to fight.
The familiar click of the locks came from the door, and relief washed over her aching muscles like a healing balm. Help had arrived. Then a sickening thud made her gut wrench. A barricade of furniture prevented the door from opening more than a few inches.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” the captain called from the other side, “are you safe?”
“Galerius, get in here now!” Titus ordered.
Panic flashed in Rulf’s eyes. The captain of the Legion was moments away from coming to the emperor’s aid. The pirate dove for Titus like a starving animal determined to kill its prey before it escaped. He rammed into Titus, and they both fell to the floor.
The metallic taste of fear filled Azurha’s mouth. Rulf’s broad chest blocked her view of his sword. She had no idea if it lay buried in her lover or not. A scream formed in her throat, but it remained lodged there, blocking the air to her lungs. Everything around her—the Legion’s grunts as they tried to pry open the door, the twitches of movement from the two men on the floor, even the beating of her heart—seemed three times slower than normal.
Something stirred inside her. She would have called it terror, but it seemed more powerful than that. Instead of paralyzing her, it flowed through her limbs in ripples, renewing the vigor that had been drained from them. The only thing that mattered to her was Titus, and the gods have mercy on Rulf if he harmed one golden hair on her lover’s head. The strange emotion inside her intensified, rivaling the storm she felt welling up inside her whenever Titus made her come. It churned deep within her core, threatening to reach the breaking point and shatter her weak shell of a body if she didn’t release it soon.
When she pressed her weight against the chest again, she channeled that strange power into her action. The chest flew across the room as though a giant had hurled it, cracking the timbers and leaving a dent in the wall.
Rulf whipped around and charged at her. The last thing she remembered before she tackled him was his cocky grin. The world around her turned red, as though she were looking at everything through a piece of ruby-colored glass. They tumbled across the floor, away from Titus. The strange power still pulsed through her, never losing momentum. She’d killed more times than she cared to remembered, but there was only one time that came close to this. The day she had murdered her master.
Raw hatred flowed through her fingers as they curled around Rulf’s jaw, digging in the soft fat of his jowls until they hooked the bone. Her muscles tensed. She’d performed this maneuver before, but this time, she wanted to make sure she succeeded on the first try. She gritted her teeth and jerked his head, using the momentum of their tumbling bodies to aid her. His neck snapped like a twig in her hands. The sickening crack of bone filled her ears. Rulf’s eyes bulged, and his body went limp under her.
Panic filled her when she continued to tumble across the floor with Rulf’s dying body in her hands. The last thing she needed was to reveal what she was to Titus. She never wanted him to discover the monster that lived inside her, especially not like this. The sunlight flashed on a metal sword that protruded from the opening door, and she gathered the last of her strength to shove the body toward it.
A man grunted on the other side, but she’d gotten what she’d hoped for. A blood-tinged blade now poked through Rulf’s chest, its hilt firmly in the hands of the captain of the Legion.
Azurha sat back on her heels, her body now sagging under the weight of exhaustion. It was over, done. There was only one thing left for her know. She turned to Titus and saw him reaching for her, alive and well.
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her so her ear pressed against his pounding heart. “Thank the gods you’re not hurt.”
The stabbing pain in her ribs would have argued otherwise, but she let her body melt into his embrace while he covered her face with kisses. She looked up at him and searched his face for any signs of disgust, of horror, but saw only concern. He hadn’t seen her break Rulf’s neck, then. She was safe.
He held her chin in his hand, looking into her eyes as though searching for signs of madness. “Why did you attack him?”
She weighed her words carefully. “Because he was trying to kill you, Titus.”
“You silly, stubborn woman.” He wrapped her in his arms and rocked back and forth.
The intensity of his embrace tempered her urge to laugh out loud. Had she not been thinking the same thing about him less than an hour ago? Perhaps they were better suited for each other than she imagined. She recalled the way he had attacked Rulf, and a shiver coursed down her spine. She’d seen the warrior within him, something few people suspected existed beneath his scholarly exterior, and hope bloomed within her. If anyone dared to challenge his plans for the empire, they’d find themselves facing a formidable ruler.
If only he lived long enough to see his plans carried out.
The captain of the Legion approached and kneeled before them, his head hung low. “My upmost apologies for allowing your life to come in peril, Emperor Sergius. I have failed to protect you. If you wish to relieve me of my command—”
“Why would I do that, Galerius? Both Azurha and I are alive. Our attackers are either dead or have fled the scene. You and your men fought bravely. There is nothing more to discuss.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” Galerius bowed once more and returned to Rulf’s body. He tugged his sword out and flipped the body over, carefully inspecting it. Furrows creased his brow, and Azurha held her breath. “May I inquire what happened in here?”
Titus released her and joined the captain. “He came in through a hole in the roof. Azurha and I took turns attacking him, and she had just managed to wrestle him off me when you finished him.” He kicked the corpse with his foot. “Any idea who he was?”
“Rulf,” Galerius replied in a clipped tone. He used his sword to push the pirate’s head back to a more natural angle and flicked his cool gray gaze on her. “How very fortunate that you were not alone.”
You will never find a knot you cannot unravel.
Azurha couldn’t hold back the shiver that snaked down her spine. He knows I killed him.
Galerius pointed to the stream of blood dripping down Titus’s arm. “You are wounded, Emperor Sergius. Perhaps you should have a healer tend to you before it worsens.”
Titus wiped his wound on his tunic, staining it red. “It’s hardly more than a scratch. Have the healer tend to those more seriously hurt. I’d rather inspect the damage and see if we can return to Emona without the ship falling apart on us.”
At least Rulf wasn’t the type to coat his blade with poison, which was one small blessing. Azurha tore a strip of material from her stola and approached Titus. Every inch of her body protested the movement, but she fought to keep her inner grimace from showing. “You should cover it with a bandage so you don’t worry your men.”
Titus held out his arm and allowed her to wrap the strip around his arms and tie the ends in a knot. “Thank you, my love. Do you think you’ll be safe here alone while I’m gone?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She lowered her head, worried that the captain would reveal her secret any moment now.
“Stay here, and for once, try to obey me.” He gave her hand a squeeze and then disappeared through the doors.
Captain Galerius lingered in the stateroom. Even though she didn’t see it, she could still feel him watching her every move. How long would he wait before he plunged his sword into her heart? One minute? Five?
Azurha retreated to a corner and pretended to clean up the disaster that was the stateroom, trying to appear as natural as she could without raising his suspicions further. “I’ll be fine, Captain Galerius. There’s no need for you watch over me.”
Galerius joined her and offered her a chair. “You should rest and let the slaves tend to these matters.”
Their gazes locked, and a knot formed in Azurha’s gut w
hen she saw the suspicion on his face. She sank into the chair. “Thank you for killing Rulf.”
A muscle rippled along his jaw, doubling her unease. Sweat prickled her palms, and her mouth went dry. She waited for him to draw his sword and declare her a threat to the emperor, but he remained frozen. At last, he said, “Not many women would have the strength nor the skill to take on a man twice their size.”
Her pulse pounded in her temples. She took her time carefully choosing her words. “When the emperor’s life is in danger, we do what we must.”
“The gods must have smiled on him today for granting him such felicitous luck to have you as his travelling companion. We both know you’re the one who saved his life, not me.” He backed away from her, carefully navigating the debris until he came to Rulf’s body. He nudged it with his foot until the neck formed such a grotesque angle that even a child could tell it was broken. “I’ll have my men remove this in a few minutes.”
As soon as the doors closed and she was alone, Azurha pressed her balled fist into her mouth to keep her sob of relief from breaking free. Thank the gods he hadn’t challenged her. A chill seeped through her exhausted body, causing her hands to tremble uncontrollably.
In the past, she had killed without fear. She didn’t worry about losing anything—not even her life—because she had nothing to really lose. She’d gone from being a slave to being a rootless assassin. No place to call home. No friends. No family other than Cassius. Nothing of value other than what she carried with her.
All that changed when she met Titus. Now she feared losing him more than anything.
And that opened up a whole new set of problems, for if anyone knew her weakness, they’d exploit it. In an instant, everything could be taken away from her. Just one small word from Galerius could have Titus calling for her head.
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