For a Roman's Heart (15 page)

Terentius cursed viciously.

“Sir?”

Terentius gripped the door. “I’ll come to the gate momentarily. Have the people wait for me there, but keep an eye on them for suspicious activity.”

No one had attacked this fort since the infamous Boudiccan revolt approximately a hundred and sixty years ago. It paid, though, to stay vigilant.

After the young soldier saluted and left, Terentius dressed quickly in his armor and made sure he wore his weapons.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the gate. More than one soldier waited outside with the crowd. Obviously they anticipated trouble. The group of men seemed calm enough. In fact, they were mostly older people.

The young soldier who had come to his quarters gestured for one white-haired man to step forward. The man’s hair stuck up from his head like a peacock’s plume, his eyes red from drink or lack of sleep. A thorough mess from his wild hair down to his worn tunic and worn sandals, he didn’t make a promising candidate for rationality.

The man walked forward and nodded to Terentius. “You are the authority here?”

“Not the highest authority, but I am the
beneficiarius
Terentius Marius Atellus. And you are?”

“Solarius. I come here as a concerned party who wishes to warn you of dire things to come.”

Alarmed, Terentius eyeballed the man and his entourage. “Has something happened to Cordus or his family?”

“No, but I fear something might, and that is why I’m here.” The older man gestured to the people around him. “These are friends from the village. We’ve learned of a plot to burn out the Brigomalla family.”

Terentius felt something dark stir inside him, along with a growing dread he couldn’t name. “I know them. Come into the fort, and we’ll talk.”

At first the man hesitated. “These other people agree with me. I’m not the only one concerned about this evil family.”

Terentius took the man’s trepidation in stride. “Have your friends wait here.” Terentius glanced at the old man’s companions. “There is no need to fear for his safety. No harm will come to him.”

The man’s walk slowed them to a crawl as they entered the fort and proceeded to Terentius’s quarters. Once inside Terentius’ abode, he invited the brittle man to sit. He offered the man water, and he took it gratefully, gulping an entire goblet in short order.

Terentius offered him more water, and Solarius sipped slowly. “We came to the fort because there is unrest in the village.”

“So I’ve seen. We put down an uprising among troublemakers some time back.”

“They were trifling fools. I own a shop along the main road and the forum.”

Solarius stood and walked to the window. He gazed out. His cloak and tunic might have seen better days, yet Solarius showed dignity in his proud posture, in the way he spoke with educated voice. Terentius could sense it, as he did with most men, whether a man lied. He saw nothing to indicate subterfuge, but he would play it safe.

“So you think the Brigomalla family is in danger?”

Solarius ambled back to his chair. Terentius took a chair not too far away, his gaze pinned to the man.

Solarius folded his hands in his lap. “The small group of people waiting for me outside…they are reasonable, non-violent people. There are many more who are violent and they’d prefer to take the Brigomalla homestead by force one night.”

Terentius stared at Solarius in stunned silence. Visions of his family villa burned to the ground halted his breath. Memories assaulted him as he recalled witnessing the charred rubble of his home, the bodies of his burned parents stripped naked and crucified. He shuddered.

He leaned forward in his chair. “If this is some twisted joke—”

“No! Never. I would never risk so much for a folly. If it were not for Adrenia we wouldn’t care quite so much what happened to her family. I do not know how well you are acquainted with her, but her weaving and healing skills are known about here and appreciated. We fear for her safety.”

Terentius fisted one hand on the table near him, tempted to hit something. Anything. “Tell me more.”

Solarius sighed and scratched his scrawny chest. “Their eldest son, Primus, disappeared when he was ten years old. Their daughter, Prima, also disappeared.”

“I’ve heard about that.”

“Some say Brigomalla sold his children to slavers.”

Terentius’s gut churned at the thought. “What?”

“Sold them to slavers that took them to Hibernia. People say the Brigomalla family acted like nothing happened when their children disappeared. Have you also heard that women have started disappearing over the last few weeks?”

Terentius gave a reluctant nod. “I’ve heard that.”

“The mob doesn’t need much to find a scapegoat. I don’t know if the Brigomallas would go so far as to steal women to sell to slavers. All I know is that Adrenia is in danger, and we must help her.”

Adrenia is in danger.

These words rang in Terentius’s head like a bell, and with them a gnawing sense of a world tilted on its side. Adrenia hung by a fragile threat, destined to fall off the edge.

He thought his throat would close as his stomach curled with nausea. Though he felt something odd about Brigomalla and his wife, Solarius’s statement held a deep truth inside it Terentius didn’t want to acknowledge. As the story soaked in his brain, Terentius wondered if Adrenia knew the truth about her family. Could she shed light on reality and myth? If what this man said proved true and Adrenia knew it… No, he couldn’t bear to think of it. Horror would engulf him, and all the growing feelings he felt for her would disappear. He wanted, to his fascination, to hold on to illusions. Yet one thing couldn’t be ignored.

Perhaps she wasn’t a victim of her parents’ depravity, but a part of it.

“They’ll attack the Brigomalla farmstead directly, and in the aftermath some of the violence will probably spill over to the villa proper,” the man said.

Solarius’s concern couldn’t be dismissed. “I’ve seen how mobs work. This is a distinct possibility. When is this attack supposed to happen?”

The older man shrugged. “I’ve heard rumblings for days, but those rumblings grow worse. Something will happen soon.”

Anxiety twisted within Terentius.

Before Terentius could speak, the old man continued. “I asked people about your character and have only heard high praise. You treat people with respect, even those far below your station.” Mild concern touched the man’s eyes, and he leaned toward Terentius. “I also learned of your respect for Adrenia, but many believe she is a part of this evil.”

Terentius smiled without amusement. “Do you believe that?”

Solarius looked grim. “I don’t know what to believe. Many revere her healing skills and weaving.”

“I’ve seen evidence of her ability to heal.”

“And there are the many predictions she’s made that have come true.”

“Visions?”

“The very same. Many think she is a seer. Others see her abilities as evil.”

Terentius nodded, his thoughts running to the vision she’d passed on to him that saved his life, and the vision that most likely saved Pella. Fear renewed its steady pull on Terentius. He’d charged into battle many times and he’d fought men and killed men. Yet nothing prepared him for the grinding, insidious trepidation that wore away at his control when he thought of Adrenia in danger from a mindless mob. Questions about her involvement with these horrid accusations against her family continued to run through his mind. A riot of confusion danced in his psyche, warring with his rational side.

“Thank you for this information, Solarius. It was brave of you to speak of this.”

Solarius’s lined face held fatigue and caution. “Centurion, I know I have brought many tales to you and little proof. I only ask that you investigate.”

“It will be done.”

When the old man left, escorted by a guard, Terentius sat at his table and thought long and hard. If there was one thing he’d always hated, it was uncertainty. In his world ambiguity had no sanctuary. He worked hard to minimize it. Again he imagined too easily his parent’s villa on fire and their dreadful death. He shuddered.

He made a decision. After he accomplished Sulla’s capture today at the forum, he would talk to Adrenia and discover what she knew. Then he would take her away from the Brigomalla household forever.

Terentius watched people mill around the market with a keen alertness. They’d planned this day during the weekly market and in conjunction with a festival to Minerva and Mars. People gathered from all around the countryside, their numbers increasing moment by moment. He hadn’t expected the crowds to be this thick and the situation worried him.

His unusual dress of a hooded brown cloak over his white tunic disguised him well. Other than his sword and
gladius
, nothing about him screamed soldier.

Fog had moved in and lay in a thick blanket over the town, blocking a good portion of the sun and giving the day an eerie feeling. Victor stood nearby.

Terentius shifted, his hand at the ready on his
gladius
. He pulled the hood of his cloak farther down over his features. As people walked by, he continued to scan the crowd.

His other duties had taken away from an all-out search for Sulla every day. Whenever another police duty arose, he gritted his teeth in frustration. He’d get Sulla today or die trying.

Just then Terentius spotted Adrenia and her louse father coming into the forum by wagon. Terentius kept his gaze pinned to Adrenia. When the wagon stopped nearby, she dismounted. Her father urged the horses to proceed and the cart trundled away. Terentius’s gut clenched, his muscles readying to pursue at top speed if and when Sulla put in an appearance.

Terentius kept Adrenia in sight—she wore a smudged blue
tunica
and worn ankle boots under the threadbare cloak he’d seen her wear before.

Adrenia searched the crowd, her gaze landing on this person and then another. He wanted to give her reassurance, but he couldn’t give away his status by calling her name. Finally she saw him. He smiled and gazed deeply into her pretty eyes. Heat flared inside his gut and cock. Overwhelming desire wouldn’t dissolve under hard labor and long nights. He still wanted her fiercely. She gave him a tiny smile and turned away.

“She sees us,” Terentius said.

“Where is Sulla? Shouldn’t he be here by now?” Victor asked.

Terentius continued scanning the crowd. “Patience.”

Waiting paid off a short time later. Sulla strolled into the crowd from the east, his tall stature and golden hair a shining beacon. A smug expression colored his features, his eyes cold, the ice a testimony to his ruthless soul.

Victor nudged Terentius. “There he is.”

“I see him.”

Sulla appeared to search the crowd until he saw Adrenia and approached her. Loud voices echoed through the forum as the first slave appeared on the block, a thin man whose ribs stood out. He’d be lucky to fetch any price. Terentius turned his attention away from the unfortunate man, knowing the slave would die as a spectacle in the ring, an easy piece of meat for a wild animal or gladiatorial sport. Terentius wasted no pity on the man. No time for it.

“Ah, shite.” Victor hunched and tried to make himself look smaller. “He’s looking this way.”

Terentius tried to keep obvious stares at Sulla and Adrenia to a minimum. A soldier could feel a long, hard stare from a hundred yards. Adrenia greeted Sulla with a smile. Terentius didn’t recognize the instantaneous shadowy feeling inside him. He didn’t want her smiling at any other man like that—not the appealing, delicate attention he received from her on occasion.

“I’m moving closer. Hang back.” Terentius started forward, weaving in and out of the crowd with deliberate slowness. If he moved too fast, Sulla would take notice. All the while Terentius kept an eagle eye on the murderer.

Sulla held his hand out, and Adrenia gave him money. Before Sulla could head to the front of the crowd toward the slave auction, Adrenia grabbed his arm.

Sulla turned a perturbed expression her way. Terentius saw his lips move, then Sulla walked away with her. Terentius hurried forward, not daring to lose them in the growing crowd. Victor moved forward on his own, creeping toward Sulla and Adrenia on the left. Terentius’s heartbeat quickened, all thoughts focused towards keeping Adrenia safe and nailing the bastard Sulla.

But that was before the gods and goddesses decided differently.

People started to jam nearer together. He hadn’t seen a crowd as restless as this since his parents took him to a gladiatorial spectacle in Deva many years ago. Expectancy boiled in the air.

Someone shoved him from behind, and he stumbled into a huge man twice his size.

Swinging around with a fist raised, the bruiser aimed for Terentius’s head.

Chapter Eight

“Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast,

and is forced to multiply its strength.”

Ovid

Roman Poet, 43 BC–c. AD 18

Adrenia’s tension mounted as she held firmly to Sulla’s powerful bicep. She didn’t want to touch him, but what choice did she have if she wanted to keep the illusion intact? Her heartbeat grew fast, her breathing quickening.