The Winged Serpent (The Order of the Oath)
Page 25
Aurora had been in Antium for nearly three months, and she was beginning to take to the coastal port city that had much in common with her former home of Ostia.
Just south of both Rome and Ostia, Antium moved at a somewhat more leisurely pace from the other two cities. Aurora decided it was the abundance of simple countryside villages bordering the town that had much to do with Antium’s languid demeanor.
Aurora found the unhurried manner of Antium to her liking. Although, she reasoned, even had she not liked the city, Olympia would not have agreed to see her return.
That had been her friend’s good news. Aurora had been appointed to the position of high priestess to the temple in Antium. Minerva’s temple was newly constructed, giving Aurora the freedom to recruit acolytes and Keepers as she saw fit. Aurora had taken the ‘good’ news relatively well.
The role of the high priestess was to see to the training of the next generation of acolytes, gather information, and dispatch Keepers upon missions. Aurora was to be the brains of this branch of The Order, the one who orchestrated every single detail. She was up to the task, even as she’d lamented her newest duty. Her missions would become less frequent, and in her mind, less dangerous.
When eventually Aurora had learned of her condition, she had later accused Olympia of consigning her to such a position because of her predicament, a predicament she was certain Olympia had glimpsed in one of her premonitions, long before Aurora had discovered the truth. But, instead of confirming Aurora’s suspicions, Olympia had simply looked at Aurora crossly, reminding her that the position of high priestess was considered an honor and to refuse her appointment would dishonor not only Aurora, but Olympia as well.
Olympia was a formidable foe when crossed.
Aurora set out for Antium within days of Artemisia taking her final vows—her eternal oath to The Order. Her friend had joined her on her journey, along with Cybele, who Aurora was fortunate to have among her ranks. When the time came to begin weaponry training for Imogene and her other newest acolytes, Cybele would prove invaluable.
Aurora smiled as familiar wide taupe eyes filled her vision. It was a miracle Imogene was still alive, and that she now joined Aurora in Antium—although the latter was due solely to Olympia’s cunning.
Upon returning from the mission where she’d met Imogene, Aurora had recounted the events of her assignment to Olympia, admitting that she suffered guilt because a young girl might possibly have died because of her. Olympia had been intrigued. The girl had meant something to Aurora when few others did. Upon learning she still lived, Olympia had decided Imogene would be an asset to The Order because of her fortitude through her torture, and her friendship with Aurora. So she’d purchased the girl and brought her to Ostia.
“She shall be your first acolyte,” Olympia had announced on the same night Aurora had been greeted with many surprises from her friend.
Aurora had been uncertain of Olympia’s decision until she’d stood before the girl, who’d embraced her warmly. Not one to succumb to tears, Aurora had allowed herself that moment as she’d returned the girl’s embrace, the apology she’d thought she’d never get to utter, pouring from her lips.
Bearing her no ill will, Imogene had forgiven her, and in the next breath she’d accepted her position as Aurora’s newest acolyte. Aurora had been pleased, even as she’d been torn, knowing Imogene would one day learn the position Aurora had been in when she’d left her behind to suffer. The girl would one day face the decisions Aurora had faced, and she wondered if Imogene would truly understand how difficult it had been for Aurora to do what she’d done, even as it had been unavoidable.
One day, Aurora reasoned, but not that day, and not for many days she acknowledged as she returned her thoughts to her more immediate matter of settling into Antium—which given all that had transpired, Aurora was taking the many changes within her life relatively good-naturedly—well, at least the branch within Antium was proceeding smoothly.
She could not say she had taken the news of her condition quite as well.
Her mind still rebelled against it, and it would seem her body still protested against the presence of another being inside of her as well.
Aurora’s stomach roiled with the meager contents of her supper. She was four full moons along now—the midwife had assured her that her sour stomach and retching would be at an end by this time.
Aurora glowered at the ceiling of her chambers as she lay across her bed trying to find a position comfortable enough so that her stomach could settle. Maybe this night would be the one she found rest, she hoped, but she did not spare a prayer to the gods, lest it be wasted.
She silently cursed Cyrus’ name then, as she seemed apt to do every night since she’d learned of her condition—a condition she’d been told long ago she’d never face. After a childhood illness she’d been assured she’d never bear a child, which was why she’d been well-suited to her duties within The Order. And after so many years she never would have imagined such a thing was even possible.
She glanced down at her swollen belly. Not possible. A sardonic snort burst forth.
There are times when the body heals itself, the midwife had shared with Aurora. We cannot explain the miracle, we can only accept it as a gift from the gods. A gift or a curse, Aurora had thought at the time. She’d not been prepared for such a fate, had long ago accepted she’d never have a child. Once the shock had passed, however, Aurora had welcomed the news, though she was still given to cursing Cyrus’ name, for it appeased the ache in her heart—at least for awhile.
And then she would feel nothing but the anger, until it waned, and then the pain would set in, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. Yet, before the moisture could spill over her lids, the babe within her would stir, reminding her of the love she’d once shared with its father, the love he’d once bore her. Tender feelings for Cyrus and the child growing inside her would fill her then until the pain inside her heart simply eased.
It had been this way every night since she’d left Capena, and Aurora worried it would be this way every night for the rest of her life. Longing for Cyrus, aching for him until her body quieted the stirrings of her mind and the pain within her heart, by coaxing itself to sleep.
Aurora prayed to the gods this would not be so because neither her heart, nor her mind, could endure for much longer.
With the babe now quiet and her stomach settled, Aurora’s eyes slipped closed and she began to drift off, only to awaken with a start at the sound of her name thundering against the walls of the temple.
She shot up from her bed, imagining she was dreaming. She’d cursed his name so many times, she’d seen his face within the shadows of her dreams so many more, she considered she’d finally conjured him out of her imagination.
But she soon realized the deep baritone bellowing her name was definitely not an imagining. She hurriedly dressed and stepped from her chambers, but drew up short when several pairs of wide eyes stared curiously at her.
“Return to your quarters,” she instructed Imogene, along with the six young acolytes who’d been awakened.
Obeying her command, they returned to their rooms, although, one lone figure remained in the hall.
“He is here.”
She scowled at Artemisia. “It would appear so.”
“What shall you do?”
Aurora wanted to tell her that she would turn him away, of course, but she would not lie to her friend. “I do not know.
“But I will deal with him,” she said, brushing past Artemisia to climb the winding steps and pass through the three levels of securely locked chambers before she opened the final door by completing the sequence to step into the main temple area.
The raised altar stood between them and she glared at him from her position on the other side.
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, crossing the space that separated them to stand before him. “You break into the sacred temple of Minerva at this late hour, bellowing my name. Are you mad?”
Aurora reared away from him before he could cup her cheek, her eyes flashing hotly, unable to believe he stood there expecting her to embrace him warmly.
“And what did you imagine of this moment? That I would welcome you into my arms? That I would throw myself into yours?”
The look upon his face said that was exactly what he’d imagined. She glared at him.
In turn, his gaze strayed to her belly, his eyes filling with surprise. “You’re—”
“So what if I am? How did you find me anyway?”
“It was certainly not easy.” He paused at the wicked ember that flared in her eyes. Good, she thought. She was glad something had not been easy for him, because nothing of these past months had been easy for her.
“I returned to Capena to pay Cornelia a visit, but that was probably the most arduous task of all. I could not simply return as a free man calling upon her, because in order to get me safely from there on the night of Claudius’ death she had to fake my own. Whatever was in that vial fooled Lycurgus well enough for him to believe the stab wound was enough to kill me and he rolled me from there in a cart to be cremated. Cornelia joined me just as I was coming to some hours later, but needless to say everyone thought me dead so I had to wait several days for her to leave the villa alone and unguarded so that I could speak with her.”
She nodded at him, her arms folded across her chest, appearing impatient for him to finish, yet, her actions belied her own heart. She was not impatient for him to finish, or for him to leave. She was overjoyed to find him there, to know he had sought her out. Still, she remembered he’d sought her out after he’d returned home, and she grew angry all over again.
“Cornelia told me of Olympia,” he continued, either oblivious to her mounting fury, or pretending to ignore it. “So I traveled to Ostia, and did as I just did here. She was not happy to see me either, and she questioned me mercilessly before she would tell me a thing. She wanted to know if my intentions were honorable, if I loved you truly.” Cyrus’ eyes were wide, his expression incredulous. “I felt as if I was asking for the blessing from your father. It was strange, but she finally told me your whereabouts, and I set out for Antium at once.”
“At once?” Her eyes nailed him where he stood. “You did not set out for Antium at once, for it would have taken you only a few weeks to arrive here instead of nearly two months.” Her glower was dark. “You went to Thrace first, you went home to Sorina, long before you ever decided to come here to me.”
“As I said I would,” he said quietly. “But I only stayed a week before I set out to find you.”
“And how does Sorina fare?”
“Aurora—”
She heard the warning in his voice, but she did not heed it. He had no cause to be angry with her, he had no cause to deny her anything, not when all she desired was the truth.
“How does she fare, Cyrus?” she repeated, her voice sharper.
“She is well,” he bit out. “She is wed again, with one son and one babe soon to arrive. She is happy.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She did not answer him. “And your brother? What of him?”
“He is dead.”
Aurora had not been expecting such news, and her expression gentled. “I am sorry,” she said quietly until she remembered what his brother had done and her eyes rounded, her voice shaking as she asked, “D—did you kil—”
“Kill him?” Cyrus frowned. “Of course not, Aurora. He was betrayed by whomever he sold me to. He’s been dead for as long as I was gone.”
Aurora fell silent, not knowing what else to say. So many days and as many nights she’d imagined this moment, but she had not prepared herself for the anger she would feel, the hurt at knowing he’d chosen another over his love for her.
“Why are you here, Cyrus?”
He reared back as if she’d struck him, staring at her from eyes wide with disbelief.
“Why do you think? I’m here because I love you, Aurora, because you are my life—”
“Your life?” She raked him over hot coals with her eyes. “Your honor is your life, not me. If I were your life, Cyrus, nothing would have stopped you from finding your way to me—”
“I have found my way to you, Aurora, but what sort of man would I have been had I not returned home just once? Tell me, truly, could you have looked me in the eye knowing I’d abandoned my tribe and duties to my family so easily, without regard or remorse?”
He was right, she would have thought less of him, but that did not change how she felt, that did not change the pain still clinging inside her breast.
When he reached for her again, she shook her head. She still was not ready to accept his touch, she was not ready to offer him her forgiveness.
“You have no idea what it was like, living these past months with doubts of the depth of your love for me. I would tell myself you loved me, but then I would wonder if that was a lie, if when you returned home you would discover you loved Sorina after all. Even now I am left to wonder, did you come to me because you love me, or because you simply had no choice. I am still wondering if genuine feelings drove you or if seeing Sorina and knowing she’d moved on made you realize you had to do the same—”
“Aurora—”
She ignored him. “You come here expecting me to fall into your arms because all this time you knew of your feelings for me, you knew you loved me. When you went to Capena, then Ostia, searching for me, you were happy because all this time you were secure in your love for me as you made your way here. But what of me, Cyrus? I knew no such thing. I was not quite as happy as you seemed to be these past months because I did not believe you would ever come for me. So forgive me if I appear less than enthused, because until this very moment I was miserable thinking I was never to see you ever again.”
Aurora knew that comprehension had dawned inside him because his eyes shimmered with the weight of his guilt, but she did not have it within her to take his guilt away with sweet words, not this time.
She had spoken truth. Aurora had been miserable every night as she imagined this was to be the night he made love to the woman he’d left behind, this was the night his wife felt the touch of her husband’s skin to hers, while Aurora’s bed was cold and empty.
“Tell me, Aurora, whatever it is, whatever I must do, so that you will know how deeply you are within my heart. I risked my life for you, I would have died for you. You are my very heart beating inside of me and that you could ever doubt my love kills me, so please tell me what I must do so that I can make this right, and I shall do it.”
Her heart nearly broke at the anguish on his face, the sorrow in his eyes, and this time when he reached out to cup her face, she let him.
“I love you,” he whispered brokenly. “Whatever I must do to earn your forgiveness, I shall. Whatever you need so that you will know you are my heart, my entire soul, tell me Aurora, and you shall have it.”
She’d once betrayed him, her actions had nearly killed him, and still he’d forgiven her. Were his sins so grave she could not do the same, was her love for him so fragile that she could not open her heart to him as he’d opened his to her?
Aurora did not wish for Cyrus’ suffering, she wanted only to know she was first in his heart. That he was there, begging her forgiveness, was more than she needed, more than she wanted, and it told her everything she needed to know of his love for her.
She did not respond to Cyrus with words, instead she curled her hand in his hair and brought his lips to hers. With the first brush of his mouth, her toes curled with pleasure, and a bone melting fire inflamed her blood, igniting ever part of her.
As she kissed him, she poured her heart into him, her entire soul, until every piece of them was bonded, every part of them forever entwined.
Aurora d
id not know what the future held for them, what the future held for The Order.
With a wry thought, she did not even know where Cyrus would live just yet, because she did not imagine a man had any place within Minerva’s temple, but maybe that would change.
She imagined with a babe soon to come, there would be many changes, for her, for him, but they would face them together. They would face them as one.
The joining of their souls had been born out of pain and sacrifice, but now they were bound together out of love; they were bound together for life.
* * * *
When their heated kiss had threatened to burn out of control atop the altar of the temple, somehow Cyrus managed to convince Aurora there was a place for a man within Minerva’s temple. At least there was a place for the man soon to be wed to its high priestess, even if he could only join her that eve and would have to find more permanent quarters on the morrow, but for the present moment he’d found a place within her bed, where he planned to stay until they were both exhausted.
Cyrus held her within the circle of his arms, her back against his chest as his hand covered her belly, absently stroking the small mound where their child now rested. As soon as he’d seen her, he’d known she carried his child, and he’d been thrilled, overjoyed. In five months time he and Aurora would welcome a babe, and he or she would change everything for them, yet again.
Cyrus welcomed this child, and the changes to come. His life with Aurora was ever-evolving, but he would have been surprised had it not been. He still did not yet understand what it was she did, or the group to which she, Cornelia and Artemisia belonged, or even why they felt it necessary to live beneath Minerva’s temple. At some point he would question her, but he had a feeling she would not reveal much. Olympia had even cautioned him against it, saying only”
“There are things she may share, but much she cannot. If you truly love Aurora you must accept there will be secrets that will always shadow her. In time that may change, but be warned, it shall not be easy to love her, knowing there is a part of herself she will always be forced to guard from you.”