For a Roman's Heart (31 page)

She decided not to tell him what she was thinking...not yet. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get the man to come and fix the wall plaster.”

His gaze, when she captured it, held pure puzzlement. “It doesn’t matter. If I’d been here, I could have called for a man to come and plaster. You are my...he sees you as my wife. You have little power to make him do anything.”

“So I see. I had to sweep up the plaster, though. Rather annoying a task.”

He didn’t smile, but his mood appeared to lighten. “Thank you for taking care of my quarters while I work.”

Praise always took her by utter surprise, and Terentius bestowed it upon her often. “Thank you, kind sir.”

He grunted. “Please don’t call me sir. It makes you sound like my slave.”

She smiled. “As you wish.”

As they weaved in and out among the crowds of soldiers, a woman’s cart stand resplendent with silky scarves caught her eye. Extraordinary colors she hadn’t seen before dazzled her eyes. She’d barely glanced at them when dozens of soldiers crossed in front of her. Within seconds she lost sight of Terentius.

Before she could rush forward to find him, a hand clamped over her upper arm and all but pulled her off her feet. She stumbled back into a hard body.

“Hey there, what are you doing loitering about here?” The harsh, deep voice rumbled behind her.

She jerked from the painful grip and swung around. “I beg your pardon, but I—”

The man leered. Unkempt, dirty, and smelly, the soldier stood with two other dirt-encrusted and disheveled soldiers.

The man’s grip on her arm tightened. “How much?”

“How much for what?”

“What does it cost for an hour with you?”

Heat rose into her face. Her words came out sharp and without wavering. “I’m not a prostitute, you filthy-mouthed cur.”

All of a sudden the men took a step back, and triumph filled her. Then the real reason for their fear-struck expression stepped in front of her.

“Get away from her.” Terentius blocked her vision of the man who’d propositioned her. He bristled with muscle and anger.

“What is she to you?” One man asked.

Terentius stood even taller. Were the men insane? Couldn’t they see by his attire he was a centurion?

“She is my wife.”

“Bugger, Xantis. You just insulted a centurion’s wife,” one man said.

Terentius stalked toward the man and stopped almost toe to toe with him. “Apologize to her.”

Other soldiers stepped back, their wary faces betraying apprehension.

The man mumbled his next words. “I am sorry.”

“Louder, cretin.”

“I am sorry.”

“Not good enough.”

“I am sorry.” The man bellowed his apology.

“You will never speak to my wife or touch her again. Is that understood?” Terentius asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Terentius glowered at Xantis. “Good. Now, remember this. If I
ever
hear of you insulting or mistreating
any
woman ever again, I will see you punished.”

The man left, and Adrenia turned toward Terentius. His eyes were hard and unforgiving. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

She’d seen this side of him before, when he’d killed the man who tried to run at her with a knife the night her parents died. Still, when it transformed his face, she saw the hardness, the discipline, and a man capable of fighting to the death.

“Never wander away like that again,” he said.

She crossed her arms. “I did
not
wander away. I glanced at that woman’s cart and a herd of soldiers blocked my way. When they cleared, I couldn’t see you anywhere. That’s when the soldier grabbed my arm.”

He drew in a deep breath. “What if they’d dragged you off before I saw what was happening?” His expression turned softer, his eyes mellowing. He sighed. “You are a small woman and very pretty. These soldiers can be unruly when they spot a woman. When I saw that brute with his hand around your arm...” His nostrils flared. “If he hadn’t released you...” The implication lay in his tone. He put his arm out. “Hold on to me. From now on, never leave my side when we are among soldiers.”

His imperial tone piqued her rebellious side, but she slipped her hand over his bicep. “You told them I’m your wife.”

“It’s better if they think you are.”

Before she could retort, assert her independence in any fashion, he moved down the Via.

Adrenia steered the question back to where they’d been earlier. “You seem worried. You’ve acted that way all day. Or as if you’re angry with me.”

She felt his gaze on her but didn’t look his way. He cleared his throat. “You’re mistaken.”

She knew he lied, and impulsiveness pushed her to continue. “Are you worried your commanders will be displeased because you haven’t found Sulla? What if Sulla left the area? How is such a man to be found?”

It took her a second to realize he’d stopped on the Via.

“Are you reading my thoughts?” he asked.

“Not this time.” She smiled. “I never try to read thoughts. They sometimes just find me.”

His frown entered his eyes, and anger tightened his mouth. “Whatever you do, do not say anything about your...your ability to see things while we are at this function.”

Ire stiffened her spine. “Terentius, you know I would never do anything to embarrass you. Not...not intentionally. Would you rather I stay back?”

“What?” His voice went sharper and more annoyed. “Of course not. I didn’t say that.”

He strode forward again, and for a moment renewed irritation almost paralyzed her. She didn’t need him telling her what she could and couldn’t do. She’d hoped to escape this when her father and mother had died. Of course, he hadn’t answered her questions about his worries. Were all men this obtuse?

When they reached Piso’s home, they stepped through a single, freestanding structure nearby another cluster of buildings. This one held a small atrium with a mosaic fish and dog motif on the floor. A soldier ushered them into the area beyond. The crowded room, which held about twenty-five people in a tight space, quieted as Terentius and Adrenia arrived. As all eyes stayed upon them, Adrenia’s fingers tightened over Terentius’s bicep. His presence comforted, but inquisitive stares penetrated Adrenia. She didn’t like it.

Terentius walked toward a man who wore a blue cape, braid and fur as a part of his attire. Balding but still handsome, the man appeared many years older than Terentius.

“Sir.” He bowed at the waist, and Adrenia did the same. “Thank you for inviting us into your home.”

The man’s wide smile held an air of insincerity. “Terentius, how do you fair?”

Terentius nodded. “Very well sir. May I introduce my wife, Adrenia.”

The finely robed man bent at the waist. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

Adrenia released Terentius’s arm and dipped at the waist. “Sir, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Piso’s dark eyes and swarthy complexion gave him an exotic look. Though he was shorter and less muscular than Terentius, his features were regular and handsome. His gaze landed on her hair—it still hadn’t grown out as much as she’d like, and this morning she’d fought with it for hours attempting to tame it.

“I’m sure the pleasure is all mine,” Piso said. “Please partake of wine and food. There is plenty to go around.”

Adrenia and Terentius circulated among the other guests, wine goblets in hand. Adrenia quickly discovered the men had nothing to say to her. The room grew stuffy, the food scents cloying. At one point a short man took Terentius’s attention, and Adrenia wandered to another corner of the room.

“Why hello, Adrenia. Fancy meeting you here, all dressed like a proper lady.”

She couldn’t mistake the viper-sharp female voice.
Oh, no. No.
She didn’t want to see or speak with Cordia. She turned and confronted the younger woman. Elaborate didn’t describe Cordia’s dress quite well enough. Her beautiful hair, designed in artful coils and ringlets, held a weave of shiny, thin thread that shimmered like gold. It probably
was
gold.

Cordia’s smile approached a self-satisfied smirk. “I see you’ve found your place as Terentius’s concubine.”

Taken off guard by the insult, Adrenia didn’t speak.

“Come now, Adrenia. Have you lost your tongue?” Cordia asked.

The answer came out of nowhere, precise and with a droll, bored tone. “Apparently not, if I’m Terentius’s favored concubine.” Adrenia couldn’t repress a smile. “What’s the matter, Cordia. Lost
your
tongue?”

Adrenia started to turn away, when Cordia caught her arm. Cordia’s face went red as her lips parted. The younger girl’s face filled with restrained fury. “You think you’ll get away with stealing him from me? I’ll have him back after you’re dead. I’ve put a curse on you. Your weavings will crumble, your food taste like wood shavings. Terentius will never make you his official wife. After he sees that you can’t bear him a child, he’ll turn to a real woman like me.”

Adrenia trembled inside, but she’d be damned if she’d show it. “Release me.”

Cordia snatched her hand away, as if Adrenia’s skin burned her flesh. The girl stalked away. Adrenia tried to throw off the trauma of dealing with the spiteful girl, but it dug deep inside her and refused to diminish. She searched around until she saw Capito and Longa.

Longa left her husband’s side and came toward her, hands outstretched. “My dear, how are you?”

Adrenia smiled, though she wanted to scream that she hated this gathering. “I’m fine. And you?”

Longa tipped forward so she could talk lower and Adrenia could still hear. “Dreadful.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Capito says there is an excellent chance he’ll be sent to Germania within a month or less.”

Adrenia clasped her newfound friend’s hand a little harder. “Germania. So far away?”

“Indeed.” Longa’s eyes, normally clear and cheerful, lacked liveliness.

“Why would they send him away from the fort?”

“Marcus Aurelius continues to fight barbarians within the region.” Longa released her grip on Adrenia’s hand. She fiddled almost nervously with the
palla
that fell to her shoulders. “Capito says the fighting will progress and war against barbarians is long and expensive. The legions chew up and spit out soldiers with great regularity.”

“Oh, no.” Adrenia couldn’t keep the words from slipping out. “That means Terentius...”

“It could. Perhaps you should ask him if he has heard anything.”

Adrenia longed for the goblet of wine she left on the table. Anything to dull the horrific thought of Terentius leaving her and traveling into battle. “Now isn’t a good time for me to ask him anything.”

“Oh, dear. Did you fight?”

Adrenia kept her voice low and modulated. “No.” She changed emphasis. “That means Capito could be gone a long time.”

“Most likely.”

“Oh, Longa. I’m so sorry.”

“Our work together at the shop will keep me occupied. I will be all right,” Longa said.

“Sorry about what?” Terentius asked, handing Adrenia her once abandoned wine goblet.

She drank a sip before answering. “Longa says Capito might be sent to Germania.”

Terentius kept his voice low. “I knew that. He told me recently.”

Longa’s eyes flashed. “Before he told me, apparently.”

Terentius slipped his hand around Adrenia’s upper arm. “I have something I need to tell you. Could we speak over here?”

Longa smiled. “Don’t worry. You have your privacy.”

Tight-lipped and grim, Terentius watched Longa slip away.

When he didn’t speak right away, Adrenia asked, “Is something wrong?”

“In a way, yes. I should have told you this the other night...”

Humor sparked inside her, and she placed her hand on his chest and gazed with adoring intent into his eyes. “You were distracted the other night.”

His mouth tilted up at one corner, his eyes warming with remembrance. Goddess, she loved that expression. Her body reacted by rote, heating to his and recalling the passion they’d shared.

He cleared his throat. “I was distracted, but now I’m all business. Capito isn’t the only one leaving for Germania.”

It didn’t take a seer to guess who he meant. Her heart sank, her body feeling twice as heavy, filled with desolation. She couldn’t contain the horrific scene rising inside like a black wave roaring in from the ocean.

Terentius and Victor stood clad in helmets, mail armor, their swords at the ready as they formed and arranged the soldiers around them for battle. Tall trees soared on all sides and guarded the dark places. In the distance the huge opposition army built its ranks. They clattered their shields and pushed their swords into the sky, shouted taunts and obscenities. The maneuvers and the arrangement of the soldiers on both sides meant nothing to her. She smelled fear in their sweat; some men knew this would be their last battle. Others, like Terentius and Victor, refused to allow fear to bend their will. Terentius and Victor moved forward to lead the troops.
Ballistae
shot stone projectiles and flaming objects to torment the barbarian hoard.
Catapultae
hurtled bolts into the enemy’s ranks, and men in pain screamed. Adrenia shivered as the vision came sharper. Her heart pounded as the vision grew in intensity. Men, horses and swords clashed.
Pilum
pierced shield and then flesh.
Lancea
flew through the air and impaled.
Gladii
cut and thrust. Stark fear rose in her throat as a huge man charged toward Terentius. Terentius held his
spatha
ready to cut and slash. Another barbarian swung his stone ax at Victor and caught him in the ribs, sending Victor down with a guttural cry. As two men advanced on Terentius, she knew he could not cut down both of them.