Love's Blazing Ecstasy (41 page)

“I’m going to take the black horse with me back to the villa,” he told the man as he left the stables.

“Will you be leaving the other horse here?”

“No. I will need them both. The black horse is for someone else.” Valerian answered, wondering at the nervousness the stable keeper displayed; it was almost as if he were stalling for time. Still, one met many such strange, lonely men among these soldiers, many of whom had been away from ho
me for years.

“Have you happened to hear any news concerning the tribune Severus?” Valerian asked, knowing the stable hands were often the first with news from travelers.

“No…no….no word at all,” was the hasty reply. The soldier turned to leave, yelling over his shoulder at Valerian to be certain to shut the gate when he left.

Valerian went back inside the dark, foul-smelling stable to go about harnessing Sloan.  “Easy.  Easy,” he said, patting the horse on the neck. The animal seemed unusually agitated this morning, pawing the ground and tossing his head to and fro.

“You have been through a lot, haven’t you, Sloan?” he said. “Well, from now on you will be back with the person who loves you, your rightful owner. I just borrowed you for a while.” As if understanding his words, the horse nickered and fought to get free. “Easy, boy. We will be home soon enough.” Laughing, he slipped the leather reins over the horse’s head.

Noticing that the horse appeared to be limping, Valerian bent to check the horse’s hoof, and it was then that he heard the sound of metal striking wood above his head.

“What the….?”

He stood up and looked in the direction of the noise. There, embedded in the wooden wall was a spear where Valerian had stood only moments before. Had he not leaned down, he would have been skewered on a spit like a leg of lamb. He ran to the gate, but there was no one in sight—not even the guard. The stables looked deserted.

Mounting Sloan, Valerian wasted no time in riding away, the gray mare in tow. He did not doubt for a moment that someone had tried to kill him. A thrown spear could be no accident. It had been deliberate. But why? And who?

Severus! He thought, for who else would want to see him dead?  He must be back from his campaign in the North. No wonder the guard had acted so strangely
as he was no doubt working in league with the tribune. Valerian would have to be careful from now on, until Severus was on his way back to Rome.

When Valerian arrived back at the villa he carefully secured Sloan to a tree out of sight. He wanted to catch Wynne off guard and surprise her with his gift. Whistling like a small boy, he sat down to a meal. It was thus that Wynne saw him and wondered at the cause of his sudden change in mood. Burrus had told her that Valerian was devastated by her anger, but here he was looking unaccountably smug and cheerful. In confusion she turned and started to leave the dining room, but her hand brushed a goblet and sent it crashing to the floor.

Valerian leapt up to help her pick up the broken glass. She protested, but when Valerian insisted, she was too flustered by his odd behavior to persist.

“I have something for you, Wynne,” he said to her when they’d disposed of the  shards. This time she did not pull away from him when he took her arm, but instead went with him out past the atrium, across the back courtyard, to a grove of trees which reminded her of the forest she so loved. Wynne threw him a measured glance, wondering what he had in his mind, not fully trusting him yet. Then she saw him.

“Sloan!” she breathed. It had been so long since she had seen the horse. Eyes sparkling with tears of joy, she darted to where the horse was tethered and threw her arms around his neck.

“Would that you were to greet me so,” Valerian said with a smile, and was surprised to find his smile returned.

“Can I ride him, Valerian?” she asked, eager as a child. Her use of his name—instead of ‘master’—filled him with hope.

“You may do whatever you want to, Wynne,” he replied, thinking to himself that he should have done this sooner. “I am giving him back to you. He was never mine. Never.”

She eyed him with suspicion, but his expression was guileless.

“Thank you, Valerian!” She climbed on the back of the animal and in a moment was galloping across the open field. It had been so long since she had felt so free, so alive. For a time she forgot that she was a slave as she gave herself up to the exhilaration of being on the horse’s back again. Though the breeze was cold, she hardly noticed.  It was like old times and she felt alive and free….

But she wasn’t free. Reality hit her like a fist and she remembered. Guiding the horse back to where Valerian stood, she dismounted, bowing her head. “I cannot keep him. Slaves cannot own property.” She looked up then and read the kindness and caring in the Roman’s eyes.

“You are no longer a slave, Wynne,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Was he toying with her?

“I mean just that—you are no longer a slave, or at least you won’t be.  I am going to set you free.  You were never meant to be subservient to anyone.”

She could not believe her ears. Why was he giving her the freedom she had asked for? “Why now?”

He wanted to embrace her but was afraid of her reaction and so he held back.  “I should have done so the moment I saw you here.  But I was afraid that if I did, you would leave.”

“Then you aren’t setting me free because you don’t want me here anymore?” So many months of seeing life from a pessimistic viewpoint clouded her thoughts now.  She had asked him for
her freedom but she was suspicious of why he was granting it now.  Oh, if only she could open her heart to him again.

“Don’t want you here?  Don’t want you….?”  He felt his own pain mingled with her own.  “There will never be a day that I won’t want you.  Whether you believe it or not, I love you and I always will.”

Without understanding why she burst into tears. Valerian had never been more moved by a woman’s sorrow.  Quickly he closed the distance between them and gathered her into his arms, holding her tenderly, as if she might break. “Please, please, Wynne, stop crying. Oh, my love. Don’t. I cannot bear it. Please forgive me for all the things I have said to you. I have so much to make up to you for. For my jealousy, my foolishness.  Hush.  Hush. I love you so.” Her tears wet his tunic as he rocked her gently, his hands caressing her hair. It took a long time for her to stop, and all the while the sounds of her crying tore at his heart.

Lifting her head she looked up at him and her eyes mirrored his own words, love showing in their blue depths. Then Valerian’s lips were suddenly upon hers. She did not shrink away from him in fright this time, but instead responded with all the longing of her heart. When at last they drew apart, they both started to talk at once, but Wynne held up her hand for his silence.

“You asked me once if I hated you, Valerian,” she said. “The answer is no. I have always loved you. But a part of loving is trusting, and that I have not given you. I thought you guilty of deceiving me, but Burrus has told me what I had to know about that terrible day. I should have known that you could not ever be responsible for such a vile betrayal, for such a deed as the murder of unarmed people.” She put her arms around him and kissed him then, and all the bitterness of the past seemed to dissolve like the ice and snow on the first day of spring.

They suddenly had so much to tell each other, so much to say. At last Wynne asked him the question which haunted her night and day. “Who killed my father?”

He answered her honestly.  “I don’t know.  That day I was trying to find his lodge to try and protect him, but I was set upon by Severus’ men before I could find him.” Looking over at her he read the expression on her face and realized that something more was amiss.  “You thought that I killed him?” He was incredulous.  “Why would you have thought such a terrible thing of me?” No wonder she had shunned him so brutally.

The whole story—Brenna and Edan’s accusations—tumbled out in a torrent of words.

“No wonder you hated me so and didn’t want me to touch you.”  Valerian reached for her hand and held it in his own.  “Wynne, when I went in search of you, Brenna told me you were dead, murdered by the hand of Severus. I recognized her her. She was the priestess of the darkness cult who had begged for my death.”

“The darkness cult? Brenna?” She had always disliked the woman, but could she be truly evil?

“I know it was her. I would never forget that face. She told me how much she hated you and that she was glad you were dead. She tried to kill me, to stab me with her dagger.”

The pieces of the puzzle slowly fit into place.  Brenna and her late night absences
, her being named as the priestess by her Roman ‘friends’, and that day when Wynne had been captured by the darkness cult; she had been picking berries at Brenna’s request.

“When Sev
erus had me arrested, I dropped my helmet and my sword. You say you saw them stained with blood, and I t ell you that whoever killed your father used my sword to do so. May his murdering soul rot in Hades for eternity!” Again he gathered her into his arms. She felt so right there, so warm.

“So Brenna lied to me in order to hurt me, knowing no doubt of my love for you.” And to hide her own guilt?

Breathing deeply of the perfume of her hair, he felt desire stir deep within him. Worried lest he frighten her and ruin their newfound camaraderie, he held her a little way from him so that he could cool his ardor.  For love of her he made the ultimate sacrifice.

“If you want to go back to your people, I will see that you are escorted safely there. I will go with you myself if you so desire.”

Wynne shook her head. “Now that I know the truth I want to stay here with you. You will be my people, my life. You have been since first I saw you.” Her eyes clouded as she remembered his betrothed and with her words she made her own sacrifice to her pride in order to be with him. “I will be content to be your concubine. I will come to you of my own free will.”

“No!” His answer startled her. “Not as my concubine, but my wife, Wynne.”

She searched his face and was satisfied that he was sincere. “And what about your betrothed?”

“I only agreed to marry a woman my father had chosen for me when I thought you were dead. I knew that I could love no other woman in this life.” 
Taking her face in his hands, he bent his head and kissed her, caressing her mouth. 

When he pulled away she whispered in his ear, “I want to be with you. Come to me tonight….”

In answer he held her tightly to him and she could feel his hardness brush against her, but with him she would know love and tenderness.  Pushing closer to him she felt the familiar magic that had sparked between them that first time they had made love and she wondered if she really could wait.  But Valerian pushed away.

“Tonight,” he whispered, “will be the most beautiful of my life.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

Wynne lay on her couch, her eyes closed, her long blond hair spread on her pillow—waiting—hardly daring to breath as she listened in expectation for the sound of footsteps.  She felt as if she were frozen in time, as if the moment when Valerian came to her would never come.

I never realized before just how incomplete I was without him
, she thought, but she understood that now. 

“How could I have ever mistaken you for Minerva?” she heard a voice ask her from the doorway.  “When you are Venus incarnate, the most beautiful woman in the world.” Entering the room he looked down at her, whispering her name like an invocation.

She sat up, reaching out to touch the warmth of his firm flesh.  “I thought the night was never going to come.”

His embrace was like an affirmation of life, of hope, of love. Closing her eyes Wynne waited for his kiss, but the kiss didn’t come. Instead he seemed determined just to hold her, comfort her.

“I love you, I desire you more than anything in this world, I would give you all of Britain and Rome if it were in my power to do so, but I can’t change the past.”

“I know….”

“But I can promise you that if you open up to me again, give me your love, I can help to change the future.  And I will love you until my dying day.”

“Valerian!” She snuggled into the warmth of his arms.

“When I am with you, I am a much better man and certainly a more content one,” he whispered against her hair.

For a long time they were content just being together, staring at the silent shadow their entwined bodies cast against the wall. Then all at once Wynne knew that she wanted much more. With that thought in mind, she slowly raised her mouth towards his.

“Wy…” His mouth came down, smothering the last syllable of her name.

Her mouth opened to him, the moist flesh of her lips trembling as his mouth caressed hers. Although he was hesitant at first, as if he feared she might somehow break, his kiss deepened. It was a kiss that spoke what words didn’t have the power to translate.

Wynne’s heart began to hammer frantically. Her body began to burn with the intense desire she remembered from those magical times when they were together in the cave. Giving herself up to feelings she had so long suppressed, she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the embrace of their lips, their bodies and their souls.