Calgaich the Swordsman (47 page)

To Calgaich, Rufus Arrius Niger had always been a dim and remote figure. Everything he had ever learned about him had come from the lips of others, principally his enemies. They respected him or feared him, but none of them had ever said they
liked
him.

“I am having a guard placed here with you, Calgaich,” Rufus said. “I will not rest until you are safe in my house.” Salvius shook his head. “Senator, I have told you we cannot allow armed men in the temple.”

Rufus waved a hand. “No fear of that. Yet I have found a guard so fearsome that no man will dare approach Calgaich without Calgaich's permission. A guard who stands watch twenty-four hours a day.”

Salvius shook his shaven head. “Impossible, Senator!” Rufus walked to the door. Calgaich and Salvius heard his footsteps on the marble tiles as he walked toward the front of the great temple.

The priest looked at Calgaich. “I told him we had no knowledge of the assassin who attacked you last night.” Calgaich passed a hand over his eyes. He could still see the bloody face of the dying Cyprian as she lay in his arms. “Her name was Flavia,” the priest said.

“She never spoke to me, Salvius.”

Salvius nodded. “She had no tongue.”

Calgaich stared uncomprehendingly at the priest.

“She was the slave of a wealthy Roman some years ago. She displeased him. He had her tongue cut out. She came to us for help and we took her in and trained her as a
balneatrix
.”

“Why was her tongue cut out?”

Salvius shrugged. “It is said that she laughed at the man and at his intense conceit. She also called him a name he could not bear.”

“Who was the man?”

Salvius looked quickly behind himself. He came closer to the bed. "The favorite of the emperor. The procurator of Games—Aemilius Valens—”

Footsteps echoed in the corridor.

Salvius turned. His face paled. "For love of the gods,” he murmured. His hands trembled as he backed against the wall.

Bron padded softly into the room. He came to the side of the bed and placed his forepaws upon it. Calgaich gripped Bron about the neck and drew him close. Tears filled his eyes.

Rufus Arrius Niger came into the room followed by Lutorius and Guidd One-Eye. Rufus peremptorily jerked his head at the priest. Salvius left the room in undignified haste for a head priest of the Temple of Aesculapius.

Calgaich was overwhelmed. "This is too much. I thought he had been condemned to the Games.”

Guidd shook his head. "The best of the many beasts that are brought to Rome are taken to the emperor’s menagerie. Sometimes they try to breed them. That was Bron’s fate.”

"How did you get him from there?” Calgaich asked. Lutorius winked. "The head keeper once served with your grandfather. After a few
sesterces
were placed in the right palms it was an easy matter.”

Calgaich looked at his grandfather. "I thank you for bringing my hound back to me.”

"Guidd told me how Bron had waited for your return to Caledonia. Such faithfulness should be rewarded.”

"To what end? Are we still not captives?”

"You, Lutorius and Guidd are in my temporary custody,” Rufus replied. "The other survivors were sent back to the Ludus Maximus to be trained as gladiators. None of you can ever leave Rome.”

"And so we are doomed to live out our lives in this hellhole of a city, far from the misted hills and the rushing rivers of our homeland.”

Calgaich looked at Lutorius. "Who else survived, Bottle Emptier?”

"Lexus, Garth, Girich, Niall, Onlach, Eogabal, Muirchu, Loarn, Conaid, Chilo and Ottar, the young Saxon.”

"And how many of the enemy survived?”

"Only ten.”

"Were they put to death for being defeated?”

Lutorius shook his head. "The senator put a stop to that. Following your victory Valens was like a madman in his rage. He knew he could not have you killed, after your great victory over Ulpius Claudius, so he tried to take out his vengeance on the ex-legionnaires.”

"They fought well,” Rufus put in. "I couldn’t let them die. The mob was swayed by my appeal to let them live.” "Which must have set well with Valens.”

Rufus shrugged. "We have been enemies ever since I returned to Rome.”

“A dangerous enemy, Grandfather.” Calgaich shook his head. "And is there any news of Quintus?”

"Togatus has succeeded him as gladiator master at the Ludus Maximus,” Lutorius said.

At that moment Salvius came into the room. "Your Honor, Calgaich must rest now.”

Rufus nodded. "Mind you, priest, if anything else happens to my grandson here, shrine or no shrine, I’ll come in and clean out the place myself. You understand!”

"The gods forbid that anything should happen to him!” Salvius exclaimed.

"How soon will my grandson be ready to leave the temple? I want him to recuperate for a time at my country villa.”

"A week, perhaps, Senator.”

They left Calgaich alone with Bron. Bron lay down on the floor facing the doorway. No one could enter that room now without the permission of Calgaich. Calgaich closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep. Flavia’s face passed through his mind. Again he heard the hideous gurgling that had come from her tongueless mouth when she had tried to warn him. He awoke with a start. The room was dark. He had slept all afternoon.

He dropped his legs over the side of the bed and slowly started down the long corridor toward the
tepidarium.
Bron padded beside him. Calgaich stripped and lowered himself into the tepid water. It was quiet and peaceful in the large room. But still the memory of the night before haunted him.

He could see down the long corridor that led to the front of the temple. Suddenly a shadowy veiled figure, clothed in white, was moving toward the doorway of the
tepidarium.
Calgaich felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. An icy fingertip seemed to trace a line down the length of his spine. Flavia, he thought . . . The figure reached the doorway of the
tepidarium
. Bron rose to his legs and thrust his head forward, with his ears laid back. He growled deep within his throat.

The woman laughed. “Call off Bron, Calgaich.” She spoke in the quick and musical tongue of the Novantae.

“By the gods,” Calgaich breathed. He
knew
that voice, but yet he wasn't quite sure. She sounded like Bronwyn.

“I've come to substitute for the
balneatrix,”
she cried. “With the permission of the head priest, of course!”

The woman spread the cloth of byssus sheet across the cypress wood table and then placed her pots of unguents and jars of perfumed oils upon the cloth.

“Bronwyn?” Calgaich asked softly.

The woman's back was toward him but he could see the sheen of her golden hair in the soft lamplight.

“Bronwyn?” Calgaich repeated more forcefully.

She turned. “Why Bronwyn, Calgaich?” she asked. “Won't
I
do?” She stripped off her filmy veil.

It was Morar and she was more beautiful than ever. Her White gown clung to her shapely body so that every curve and line of it was plain to be seen. The subtle fragrance of her exquisite perfume came to him.

“Shall I help you from the pool?” she asked.

He nodded. When he was out of the pool, she dried him with a towel.

“You don't seem surprised,” she said.

“Nothing surprises me anymore in Rome.”

Her deft hands passed along the newly healed scar on his shoulder and then down to the scar on his left side, just above the pelvis. He lay down on the table as she began to rub him down with oils and lotions.

“Does Valens know you are here?” he asked.

She laughed. “He is down in Ostia. He's been there for a week.”

“For what purpose?”

“You should know. He's looking for Quintus Gaius.”

“Why should I know?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“You're in fashion here in Rome. As soon as your husband is out of the way, you seek another man.”

“In the first place, he is not my husband, and in the second place, I am
not
seeking you, Calgaich.”

“Then why are you here?”

She was skilled in the arts of the
balneatrix.
Calgaich could feel himself relaxing.

“I heard it said that you were recuperating slowly.” “That is not so.”

“Roll over,” she ordered.

He rolled over and looked up into her incredible blue eyes. “Where is Bronwyn, Morar?”

She shrugged. “With Lucius.”

“You left her with him.”

She applied oil to his chest. “She wanted to stay.”

“You're lying, Morar!”

She stepped back a little. “How the warrior patterns show with oil upon them! ”

“Did you make a deal with the Perfumed Pig to go to the bed of Valens on condition that he keep Bronwyn?” “I don't like your insinuation.”

He gripped her by the wrists as he sat up. “That's the truth, isn't it?” he demanded. “You left your own sister in the sty of that stinking degenerate so that you could live with a more powerful man!”

“You're hurting my wrists!”

Calgaich could feel the pressure of her breasts against his arm. The fragrance of her perfume, coupled with the oils she had rubbed on Calgaich's body, seemed to bewitch him. He slid his arm about her slender waist and drew her close to him.

Suddenly Bron growled. Calgaich looked about the dim room. No one else was there. Bron had never taken his eyes off Morar. He evidently sensed something that Calgaich did not.

Morar pushed Calgaich back a little. “Later,” she murmured. “Let me finish your massage.”

“How did you get into the temple?”

“Next to the emperor, Valens is the most powerful man in Rome. Do you think Salvius would try to keep me out knowing that?”

Calgaich looked beyond her as she bent over him again, rubbing her oils into his thighs. Why had she really come?

She was subtly arousing him, caressing his thighs and pressing her body hard against his at times.

She stood back. “There! Wasn't that as good a job as any
balneatrix
might have done?”

Calgaich shook his head. “Not the one 1 had before you came here, Morar.”

She looked sideways at him. “She was
that
good? Ah, but then, of course, she won't be back again, will she?” He sat up. “How do you know that?” he asked quickly.

She was not to be trapped. “Salvius told me.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“That there had been an assassin here last night.” Calgaich dropped his long legs over the side of the table. He looked into her guileless eyes. “You said that Salvius could not refuse you entry into the temple because you are Valens's woman. Perhaps my assassin used the same method of entry.”

She smiled. “It's getting late. I’ll help you to your room.” “You didn't answer.”

“I told you Aemilius Valens has been in Ostia for a week.”

“Which means nothing. He could have given orders before he left for that killer to come here. Then, he would be safe in Ostia if any outcry came because of my being murdered.”

She shook her head. “If Aemilius had wanted you to die it would have been easy enough to have it done at any other time.”

She had him there. Calgaich stood up. He motioned to his hound. “Go ahead, Bron.”

The wolfhound padded softly into the dimly lighted corridor. Calgaich then took Morar by the arm and together they walked into the shadowy corridor.

His room was dim except for faint moonlight coming through the one high window over the bed. Calgaich drew her close and kissed her.

“You have wine?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Cyprian. The best.”

“Let's drink then!”

He took the wine jug from the little table and filled his cup for her.

She sipped the wine and then held up her arms. "Calgaich,” she whispered.

He lay down beside her. They kissed again and again as she fondled and teased him. Calgaich lay back. He reached for the wine jug and drank deeply.

Morar slipped a hand under the mattress. As Calgaich leaned over her again, fortified by the strong Cyprian wine, she passed her hand quickly across the wide mouth of the wine jug.

She was ready for him with every fiber of her being. She was
too
ready. Slowly he reached up to her throat and closed his hands about it. Her eyes opened fully and she looked into his cold gray eyes. She tried to speak but could not.

'Tell me, you whore,” he whispered between his teeth, "why did you come here tonight?”

"I told you,” she husked.

He suddenly hated her naked beauty and conniving ways. He tightened his grasp on her throat. "What is the
real
reason, whore?”

She tried to look away from him.

"Would you like to be beaten?” he asked softly. "I can raise welts on that ivory skin of yours that will stand out for days. Tell me!”

"Damn you! You wouldn't dare!” she snarled viciously. "Who's to stop me!”

"I'd tell Valens!”

He grinned down at her. "He doesn't know you're here. You probably don't want him to know you're here.”

"The Ordovician woman is with child!” she gasped. Calgaich stared at her. "You lie!”

"Why should I?”

Calgaich studied her. "You'd have no reason to lie, it's true. Who is the man?”

"Don't
you
know?” she asked quietly.

He released her and sat up. "Impossible!”

She shook her head. "She told me she had lain with you. There have been no other men with her, Calgaich.”

"You're sure?”

"She would not lie to me. I have protected her from Sextillius and Valens.”

"Why?”

Morar smiled. "Because I want that child for myself.” There was something twisted in the mind that dwelt behind that beautiful face. She was a devious and conniving bitch. "Why?” he demanded again.

"The child win be
mine,
Calgaich. It will be a boy. I am sure of that. He will be brought up and will rise to great fame in Rome. No woman can ever be empress, but none can stop me from making
my
son emperor of Rome!” Her voice had risen and her eyes had widened as she spoke.

"My son will have the blood of Evicatos within his veins. Evicatos the Spearman! He will have the blood of Lellan within him—Lellan, the leader of five hundred war spears!” She looked triumphantly up at Calgaich. "And his father: Calgaich, son of Lellan, and grandson to Evicatos the Spearman and Rufus Arrius Niger! Calgaich, the greatest swordsman the world has ever known!”