Silk and Steel (Siren Publishing Classic) (7 page)

‘You are beautiful, my lady,’ the maid murmured, sitting back on her heels. Another maid stepped behind Corinna to comb her luxuriant curls. She used a comb shaped like a spear, Corinna noticed, and was parting her hair into six thick tresses. She was being dressed like a virgin bride from the richest of families.

‘I am no Roman lady,’ she whispered.

‘You are to Decimus,’ a man answered from the threshold. ‘To your freedman husband, you are his most precious bride.’

Corinna recognized the speaker as Quintilius Pius, Decimus’ powerful patron. Thoroughly alarmed, she swiftly bowed her head.

‘No, my dear. None of that. Not to me.’

Shy of this stranger who was giving her and Decimus so much, she stared at the floor tiles. ‘My master is free?’ she managed to ask.

‘Freed by my own hand, but a moment ago. He is now dressing in his freeman’s mantle and I expect him to start talking of land and beans very soon.’

A sunburned hand touched hers. ‘Will you permit me to escort you to him, Corinna?’

She nodded, catching a glimpse of Quintilius Pius from the edge of her vision. He was small, like her, and also red-haired, with a thin, sharp face covered in freckles.

He smiled at her gasp. ‘We might be father and daughter, might we not? And this evening I stand in place of your father.’ He looked at the maids pinning her red veil. ‘Are we done?’

‘Thank you,’ Corinna said softly, as the maids stepped back and Quintilius Pius took her hand in his. Arm in arm, they walked towards the doorway leading out into the garden, where the wedding would take place.
My marriage
, Corinna thought, floating in happiness, feeling as if she was in a dream. The sunset was blood-red, as it had been those weeks before when her cruel Judas master had told her he was selling her to a gladiator. So much had changed since then, herself most of all.

A tall figure blocked out the evening star for a moment as Decimus stalked towards her. She thought he was robed in blue but was not certain as he closed on her, very solemn. Feeling as if her heart had risen through her chest almost to her teeth, she sank to her knees, head bowed.

My master, she thought, knowing it was the truth of her heart.

He touched her head, as if in blessing, and then her shoulder. ‘I, Decimus Pius, free my slave girl, Corinna. You are free, sweetheart.’

He too knelt and wound his arms about her, supporting her as she wept tears of sheer relief and joy. When he drew back a little she saw that his eyes, too, were wet.

‘Are you ready for the next?’ he asked gently. He opened his hand and she saw the iron ring, very small in his great palm. Their wedding ring.

For an instant she could not speak, but he understood. He rose off his knees with her in his arms and carried her swiftly over the threshold, with his patron trotting alongside, scolding Decimus mildly about his impatience.

Corinna felt the warm night breeze on her face, heard the applause of the gathered household and knew she was truly home, going to her wedding.

http://lindsaysbookchat.blogspot.com

Lindsay lives in Yorkshire, England, where she was born, and started writing stories at an early age. Always a voracious reader, she took a degree in medieval history and worked in a library for a while, then began to write full-time after marriage.

When not writing or researching her books, she enjoys walking, reading, cooking, music, going out with friends and long languid baths with scented candles (and perhaps chocolate).

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