by A. B. Bloom
The swell of fresh blooms and new leaves was delicious, and I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs. The garden was planted with a variety of flowers and almost on instinct I knelt down and felt the rich soil. So different from that of the settlement, or the earth I crawled through in Scotland when I found the standing stones at Fire Stone.
Fresh green shoots travelled across the surface of the ground and wound up my arms like vivid emerald jewellery. “Where the hell were you when I was being marched here at my peril?” I murmured. Green shoots wound around my neck, gentle and delicate. I could sense them weave themselves into an elaborate necklace.
“We made sure to take a path as far from trees as we could get, through the most barren planes the Empire controls.”
I spun at the sound of a male voice, finding Augustus watching me with bright eyes. His vivid-blue gaze sunk to the green around my neck, across the swell of my body under the white dress which has been clipped at the shoulders by Aurelia, to the shoots at my wrist.
“You look far better.” His lips curved a little. “It’s pleasant to see your skin instead of grime.”
I scowled hard, although it just made him smirk. “If you had treated me better, I would not have become such a state.”
Augustus inclined his head. “True, My Lady, but I was under orders to deliver you as swiftly as humanely possible. I believe I fulfilled my requirements.”
“If you were human you would have taken some mercy.”
His eyes flashed at my retort and he stepped closer, a fresh scent of lemons tickling my senses. “I took mercy, believe me.”
There was no denying his unspoken words. He took mercy on me. Other girls may not have made it this far.
“Why? Why take mercy on me?”
He licked his lips, his head lowering to my ear. “Maybe I take pleasure in your company. Even when I know you are dreaming of other men. Your poor wild woodsman; how you are grieving his loss.”
My hand lifted to strike his face, but he caught my wrist quicker than I could move. His tight grip crushed the fresh shoots adorning my skin; they tingled under his touch. “He honoured me by dying trying to protect me.” Tears sprung at my eyes and I cursed, wishing them away. The last thing I wanted to show was weakness.
“He didn’t want to protect you. He was drawn to you as we all are. We sense your power; your innate strength, and we want to own it.”
“Men of the red blood,” I murmured, frozen into place.
His lips lowered slowly to mine, inch by inch, the lemon zest of his scent intoxicating, forcing out the pain of my wild woodsman hidden behind a hedge of my making and stolen from me.
“Men. My little one. All men.”
His kiss swept across my mouth. Alien lips, brushing and caressing. I breathed sharply, caught between fight or flight. One rough hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me in tighter, pressing me against the firm chest that had carried me the final couple of miles to this place of roses and rest.
“Let me make you feel better,” his whisper was low and rasped. His lips found mine again, swift and firm. His hand slid around my back, trailing a path across the thin fabric of my dress. And for one single moment I did feel better.
A flaming desire warmed in my belly. I forced it away. My traitorous body couldn’t even mourn Tristram. What sort of woman was I?
My thoughts didn’t matter. My knees softened, anchoring me against his chest as his arms wound around me, holding me tight.
Tristram… the name taunted me.
He’s dead.
Tristan….
I don’t know where he is.
“No!” I pushed against Augustus’ chest. “No. Please.”
His eyes were heavy lidded as he gazed at me from under long lashes. “Your power is intoxicating.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“I can taste it. And don’t think for one moment that woodsman couldn’t.”
“Stop it.” I forced myself out of his grasp. For the first time in weeks I felt the tingle of my power in the earth beneath my feet.
“You can feel it too.”
My eyes flew wide. “What do you mean?”
“You. Your power. It comes from nature, but it’s awakened by your emotions. The more you feel, the stronger it is.” He laughed loudly, any dreaminess of our kiss evaporating. “Oh, little one. You have so much to learn, and now you’ve been reawakened, it’s time to take you to the one who wants you the most.”
My blood chilled to ice in my veins. I’d been tricked.
So much of Augustus’ words made sense. My power had evaporated as my heart grieved for Tristram.
That’s why Augustus had been kind to me towards the end of the walk.
It wasn’t for me. It was for him. So he could deliver me to his boss the way I was wanted.
And my body and fickle heart had allowed it to happen.
But why?
Nothing was any clearer. All I was learning were more riddles and I was feeling more and more heartbreak with every moment that passed.
Chapter Nine
Rome. Everything the history books back home in Queens had promised, everything but the smell. No one mentioned the smell.
As we marched into Rome, Augustus preening like a fool over his successful capture of whatever he thought I was, the smell was awful. More than awful. And didn’t the girl from Queens know it. Right then I was only the girl from Queens. Anger and disgust kept the me from the present firmly in situ. Chastised and tricked, I was in my place.
The carriage carrying me, the prize, rocked as it bumped over the uneven ground. In front of me an enormous arena curved into the sky. Wide pillars of stone towers high above, far beyond the concept of the settlement I’d been taken from back in Scotland. What must the Roman conquerors have thought as they travelled the lands, finding only sporadic nomad clans with almost mud huts for homes. The brickwork was exquisite, bright mosaics decorated the front of the large houses.
I stared wide-eyed at the sheer volume of people. They were everywhere, bustling and busy. Market traders called their wares as we marched through. Our procession caused many to stare as we squeezed through the packed roads. It reminded me of New York City, packed and teeming, but everyone having time to stop and stare when something of interest caught the populous’ attention.
I sat back in my chair, trying not to catch anyone’s eyes.
I hadn’t spoken to Augustus since our moment in the healer’s garden. I hoped he could sense my displeasure. My power, now reawakened, had attempted to pull some trees down on him as we marched the final stages, but all I managed to do was make him laugh and tell his ‘Little Witch’ to try harder.
The Mage said nothing. She literally had said nothing, but her secret smile as we left the healing house told me she had been well aware of what Augustus’ plan had involved. Whether he had told her or not, she still knew.
I hated myself.
I hated him more.
But his words lingered in my mind.
Had Tristram just been attracted to me/Mae, because of her power? Had her power awakened because of her feelings? And what about me at Fire Stone? Tristan and I had hated each other on sight until my tingle of magic had slowly unfurled.
Who could I trust?
Hell, could I even trust myself?
As our troop of soldiers and me in the carriage made our way towards it, Palatine Hill loomed in the distance. For a moment I set aside my regrets and concerns and sat mesmerised by the sight.
This was Palatine Hill, the seat of power in Ancient Rome. And I was there, little ‘ol me from Queens.
The villas and buildings got bigger, more elaborate. When we halted outside the grandest villa, palatial and perfect, I knew we had arrived at where my long journey had been leading me.
I clung onto the chariot while The Mage swept forward. Away from the healing house, she was garbed once again in her black cloak, her silver hair hidden under the folds of the hood.
&nbs
p; My own white dress was adorned by gold stitching, my hair woven with gem ornaments. The fact I was being delivered to the Emperor of Rome, the most powerful man in existence, like a stuffed overfed turkey was impossible to ignore.
I was a prize.
The Mage looked relaxed as she motioned me down. She was delivering me. I’d imagine her prize would be significant. My palms tingled with sweat, and my legs shook. There was no thrum of energy beneath my feet. The buildings were so compact there weren’t many trees to be seen. There was the odd olive tree in walled gardens, but there was no power of a forest for me to utilise.
I’d spent the ride from the healing house into the city shutting off my emotions. If what Augustus had said was correct, the best thing for me to do was to keep my heart and emotions tightly under wraps.
This went against everything I’d been thinking. I’d come all this way to learn how to wield the magic I contained. Now the prospect of shutting it off to protect it seemed almost futile. But this was the way it was. I’d driven myself almost into enemy hands, and now I no longer knew who the enemy was.
Go, Mae.
Right then, as I stepped down onto the road by the carriage, I wished more than I ever had before that I’d never got on that plane. If I’d stayed in Queens, never met Tristan Prince then maybe all this wouldn’t be happening.
But then who was to say we wouldn’t have found one another anyway. Maybe that was the point.
Or, maybe, and this was more than likely the case, I knew nothing and never would.
“Only speak when you are spoken to.” The Mage shot me a shrewd glance.
“That won’t be a problem,” I assured her.
“Mae.” I hesitated at the softness in her tone, turning almost unwillingly. “He’s been looking for you a long time. Don’t be too surprised by what you find.”
My stomach tightened, made all the worse by finding a bright-blue pair of eyes settled at me from a few feet away. If Augustus’ words were true and he was just setting my magic free, why the hell was he looking at me like that? Like he was partially disappointed in me.
For a moment, I ignored The Mage and gazed at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and then he dipped his face down, adjusting his breastplate on his armour.
The Mage grasped my elbow, her hand cool against my skin. If she thought I was going to run, where exactly did she think I was going? Scotland by myself? Yes of course…
My legs quaked as we walked up the steps, but I kept going, dragging in a deep breath of air and forcing my spine upright. The doors swept open, revealing a wide entrance paved with marble. A heavy smell of jasmine hung in the air, intoxicating and sweet. My own skin still smelt of the rose oil, my hair of sandalwood that had been applied to the dried and frizzed red strands.
I looked like a queen, but I knew I entered as a slave, a prize to the Emperor.
I cast a look sideways, catching Augustus snatching a glance at me, his skin paler than our march through the sun drenched Mediterranean allowed. He nodded, just lightly as though trying to pass me a message. Yeah well, I didn’t want messages from him. I forced myself to stand up taller still.
I would not allow any man to trick me or coerce me. Not again.
A glimmering clip slipped out of my hair as we walked, and I paused to bend and grab it. Augustus was too quick, already kneeling at my feet.
His pressed it into my hand, a quick motion, and I revolted myself at the way my stomach squeezed at his passing touch.
“I’m sorry, little one.” His apology was brief, his eyes bright.
“That’s enough,” snapped the Mage, and we pushed on down the corridors until we got to a double set of doors. Two centurions stood guard, their armour gleaming. Without a word they opened the doors. With no expectations, I stared open mouthed as the doorway opened into a light and airy atrium. The air filled with the babble of running water and bird chatter. Swathes of light illuminated by gold furnishings made the room appear more like heaven than the lair of my enemy.
The Mage kept walking me forward until I stood under a glass domed roof. Her cool touch pushed me up onto a circular dais.
I was up for inspection.
My heart hammered so loud it was a miracle the whole place couldn’t hear it.
Augustus slouched near the back of a large plush couch, his eyes hooded, his attention anywhere apart from on me. Or so it seemed until the odd flash of blue landed swiftly in my direction.
What did he care anyway? Bloody bastard, he’d done his job. Shame for him I’d spent the last few hours undoing all the good work he’d put in.
As much as it hurt, I refused to open my mind to thoughts of Tristram, although his last cry of my name echoed deep in my heart.
A slap of feet on marble told me my inspection was up. Do not tremble. Do not tremble, I told myself.
I did. It was impossible not to.
With my head down, I refused to look at the approaching crowd. More than one person clacked over the marble, but only one continued to stand alongside where I was raised.
Tanned muscular legs ended in sandals. Above the knee was white material not dissimilar to the white I was wearing… I refused to look higher than that.
“This is she?” The voice was soft, deep and rolling. I wanted to look up but didn’t.
The Mage stepped forward. “Yes. We searched far and wide; her power is extraordinary but limited.”
“But she has what I need?”
I remembered why I’d chosen to be vegetarian after seeing scared animals at a farmer’s market once as a child.
“She has. Whether she is the one we have been waiting for, only time will tell.”
A sliver of ice lodged itself in my heart. How much time? How long had they been waiting?
“Look up.” The soft voice commanded and even though I fought it as hard as I could, almost gritting my teeth with the effort, my eyes automatically rose.
The Emperor, with gold laurel leaves in his dark hair was beautiful. Eyes of sea grey; a face that would make the gods weep, tanned and dark; his stormy eyes were framed by lashes any woman would want to die for.
“Pretty, too.” He held my gaze, and I begged my pulse not to respond to him. I wouldn’t give any of them an ounce of what I had. “You won’t speak to me?” He asked softly, leaning closer, his breath brushing over my face.
I refused, holding his gaze. He grinned and clapped his hands, calling to the room. “We have a fighter here. Soon she shall give me what I need.” He leant in so only I could hear. “I shall look forward to it.”
Somehow, I managed to get words to rise up my throat. “I have nothing you desire. I’m just a girl from a far-off isle with nothing to give.”
He watched me carefully for moment too long, his stormy gaze calculating. Eventually, he pushed away. “Take her to the others. Maybe she will understand why not giving me what I need isn’t to her benefit.”
He turned without another glance in my direction. Shaky, I looked about me. The Mage looked almost disappointed; the meeting hadn’t gone as she wished. I didn’t need to be a witch to know that. Augustus’ face was carefully neutral, and he didn’t move as a soldier stepped forward and pulled me off the dais, although I could have sworn his lips tightened a notch.
Without time to think or ask questions, two soldiers peeled away from the other guard and took one of my arms each.
“I have nothing for you,” I called, unable to stop myself.
The Emperor just waved his hand over his shoulder as he turned his back.
The soldiers dragged me with considerable force. My skin pinched where their fingers bit into my arms, my feet barely touched the floor. “Where are you taking me?” I asked, but I knew better than to expect a response.
This was the lion’s den.
Lions didn’t talk. They killed without mercy.
My heart ached as my feet dragged along the floor, skimming along the marble tiles. I should have stayed with Tristram after all. Maybe he wa
s the one meant to unlock my power—or, maybe it was none of them.
Maybe I shouldn’t be around men.
I could live with that. If I could get back to the stones and through to my own time, I’d be on a plane back to Queens as quick as humanly possible and then I’d lock myself up in Saint Margret’s Nunnery on the corner of Brook Avenue.
I’d do it.
Hell, I’d do it.
A crazed laugh escaped from my lips, but the soldiers didn’t bother to acknowledge it as we marched lower and lower into the depths of the palace in Palatine Hill.
The passageways were dark, lit only with flickering candles. When we drew to a large wooden door, a metal grill gave a view of a murky interior. No sound met the thumped greeting one of my guards hammered on the door with his closed fist.
The door swung open and I launched through the air as the soldiers pushed me inside.
“What, no goodbyes?” I growled up at them from the ground.
Again, they didn’t acknowledge I’d spoken, and the door swung shut into my face without any advice or instructions at all. A scampering rustle caused me to spin around and I pushed myself back against the wooden grain of the door. That sounded like mice. Or rats. Rats would be worse.
Blinking into the dim light, I tried to make out where I was. The room was warm, which I guess was a blessing, but the light was so low it was impossible to see further than my hand in front of me.
The emperor had marched me thousands of miles and flung me into a prison.
“Shit.” I slung back against the door. I’d travelled a very long way, for nothing it seemed.
Closing my eyes, I shuddered and shook. Tristram’s last cry echoed in my heart and it was all I could do not to sob. A tear trickled from under my lashes and I dashed it away. I didn’t deserve to cry. Tristram had been dead a matter of weeks, yet I’d already allowed Augustus to trick me into a kiss.
I didn’t deserve the luxury of grief. I was a monster. A dangerous monster.
And I was alone.
Another tear slid and then another.
“Shh.” A hand smoothed against my hair and I almost jumped clear out of my skin. My heart stuttered, heart attack pinching, before restarting again with an alarmed boom.
