The Winged Serpent (The Order of the Oath) (33 page)

She passed by the open training area where girls—no older than she’d once been as a new acolyte within The Order—were receiving blade instruction from Cybele, their temple’s Mistress of the Sword, and one of Aurora’s few friends. Aurora nodded to Cybele as she passed by. At the last moment Artemisia caught her gaze, though the young woman was much too absorbed in her present sparring session to notice Aurora standing there.

Upon returning to Ostia, Artemisia had decided to join this branch of The Order where she would complete her instruction and take her final vows. Aurora had been in support of Artemisia’s decision to join her in Ostia. Having the girl close would certainly aid Aurora in finding her sister.

She could not believe how much had changed in the past months, weeks, days even. She’d retuned to Ostia with not only a friend, but an obligation to her, yet Aurora did not mind, nor did she consider it to be the burden she would have certainly viewed it as
before
her last mission.

She did not know how she would ever go back to being the person she’d once been, not after Cyrus, not after she’d opened herself to others and allowed them to touch her. Aurora did not even wish to return to her past self, for that person had been an empty, hollow shell of a woman, so numb to her own feelings that she had not even realized she was unhappy, and had been for a long time.

So much had changed for Aurora in these months past, and she was grateful to Artemisia, to Cyrus, despite how his absence from her life still grieved her.

She smiled at Artemisia, determined, just once, to set aside the pain that always accompanied thoughts of Cyrus. The young woman still did not look up, so Aurora continued along the tunnel.

She crept through the corridors until she approached Olympia’s chambers where she knocked softly, waiting for the other woman to call out for her to enter. When she did, Aurora stepped through the threshold, finding the woman as she usually did—pouring over rolls of papyrus and parchment strewn about the table where she sat.

Olympia looked up as she entered, a smile spreading across her face.

“Please come in,” she beckoned, gesturing for Aurora to sit beside her, but when she did, Olympia’s smile wavered, and her eyes shadowed with concern.

“How do you fare these days?”

Not well,
Aurora longed to tell her.

Her heart ached from the pain of loving a man whose honor was greater than his love. And her belly seemed to churn every time she thought of this—which was
all
the time.

She had been ill for many days now. Aurora had thought it was because she could barely eat, and that she did not sleep. She imagined her heartsickness had gone from an emotional ailment, to a physical one, yet now she was not so certain. She could barely stomach a single meal, and even when she could, most of it refused to remain within her belly.

“I have seen better days,” Aurora finally admitted. “But I shall recover, I am sure.”

Olympia’s smile was patient, but Aurora noticed a small glimmer in the woman’s eyes as if she knew a secret, but would not tell.

“I am sure you shall recover in proper time,” Olympia said patiently before her face brightened and her eyes beamed. “I imagine this shall cheer you. I have good news to share.” She brimmed with excitement. “Do you remember the girl Imogene—”

Aurora started.
Imogene?

“Of course. Is she—how does she—”

“Fare?” If it could, Olympia’s smile grew brighter. “She fares well these days, and very soon you shall be reunited with her—”

“She is here? Alive? In this temple?” Aurora was already across the room when Olympia’s words halted her.

“Be patient, Aurora, I said
soon
you will be reunited with her, but before you are, I still have
more
good news to tell—”

But again Olympia was interrupted, when a figure appeared in the doorway. Aurora turned, following the direction of Olympia’s gaze, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw who stood there.

“Cornelia?” She embraced the woman warmly, drawing back to stare at her. “What are you doing here?” Aurora glanced between Olympia and Cornelia. “Was this the good news you wanted to share with me?”

Olympia stood slowly. “Not exactly,” she replied, and Aurora noticed the tightness in her friend’s voice. What Aurora also noticed was that the room, which had been full of warmth only moments before, was now freezing cold as if they’d all been plunged into ice. She stepped away from Cornelia, inserting herself between the two women who watched each other warily.

“What is going on here?” she asked, her gaze darting between them.

“It is nothing,” Olympia replied.

“Only a difference of opinion,” Cornelia added.

Aurora knew both women lied, but she did not press. When they were alone, she would question Olympia later.

“What are you doing here?” she questioned Cornelia again. Not since that night several weeks past had she laid eyes upon her. Aurora owed the woman before her so much more than her gratitude expressed. She owed this woman her life.

“Balbus must return to Rome, and I decided to journey with him until we reached Ostia. I simply wished to see how you fared. As I am still supposed to be in mourning, I must return to Capena before suspicion grows that I had anything to do with Claudius’ death.”

Aurora smiled, thinking that was because she had
everything
to do with Claudius’ death.

With her return to Ostia, Olympia had soon revealed the truth to Aurora.

Artemisia and Maia had been sent in together to spy on Claudius and learn as much as they could about the trade routes he used, where he obtained the children he sold, and who he sold them to. The two had been successful in gathering and reporting information on behalf of The Order, until Maia was abruptly sold by Claudius. Aurora knew what Artemisia
believed
to be the cause for Maia to be sold, but Aurora suspected Maia’s true purpose had been discovered by Claudius.

Artemisia had remained behind, hoping to learn of Maia’s whereabouts, and to aid Cornelia in her duty, which was to maintain peace within the province of Capena. The province was a region in which many subjects found themselves pledging loyalty to Rome, though they were not Roman. Hostility had been ever present since, and Claudius’ dealings had threatened an already fragile peace within a region suffering strained relations between the native populace and the migrating Romans.

Now that Claudius was dead, Cornelia would soon do what she’d been sent to Capena to do—gain the favor of Senator Vibius, a just and fair man loyal to the purpose of the emperor and committed to The Empire, who even as they spoke, now traveled to Rome to be appointed to his new post as the imperial governor of the province of Capena. Cornelia had done her duty in securing her place within Balbus Vibius’ life as his mistress—soon to be his wife, after the appropriate time for mourning had passed, of course.

Cornelia, Artemisia, Maia—all of The Order had done their duties, just as Aurora had done hers.

With the aid of Artemisia and Cornelia, Aurora had fulfilled the purpose of her mission.

Aurora corrected herself. It was not just Artemisia and Cornelia who she owed her gratitude, but Cyrus as well. She would not have survived it all had it not been for him.

Aurora must have looked at Cornelia expectantly, because the woman grasped Aurora’s hands in her own, and a quiet sympathy filled her eyes.

“He is alive, and I imagine he is well.” Cornelia’s brow knitted into a frown. “I told him I would not tell you this, that if he truly loved you, he would tell you himself.” Her eyes softened. “But I think you already know he loves you, it is simply that his honor is so very important to the man that he is.”

“I know,” Aurora whispered, and she did. “If he’d left me behind, I would think much less of him if he did not return to me, and I doubt I would ever be able to forgive him.”

Cornelia’s eyes flashed with laughter. “I imagine Cyrus could never leave you behind, for you would have found him, then freed him and killed us all.”

Aurora chuckled, but it was bittersweet because though she understood he had a duty to his homeland and his tribe, Cyrus
had
left her behind.

“I have a question for you,” Aurora said after the laughter between them died. Actually she had many, but this one had nagged her since she’d discovered the truth of Cornelia’s purpose.

“That night in the baths. You were not there to kill me, were you?”

Cornelia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Of course not. That knife was for you, to aid you. I knew Cyrus would follow me, thinking to protect you, thus forcing me to drop it into the pool before I could be ‘discovered’, but I did not imagine he would not leave with me once he knew you to be safe. It was I who returned to retrieve it, for I knew you would never be able to escape with it as long as he shadowed you.”

“And the poisoning of Claudius? That has puzzled me as well. If you could have killed him all along, why didn’t you.”

Cornelia’s shrewd eyes held hers and before she even answered, Aurora knew already what had stayed Cornelia’s hand in the matter. “Assassinating Claudius was not my duty, it was
yours.
Artemisia and I were to aid you only, but we were never to interfere or stand in your way. Truly, I did not know you and Cyrus bore witness to my actions until the both of you stopped Claudius from drinking.” A small grin twitched at the corners of her lips. “But there was no poison in his cup, only the mixture of vinegar and ash which you well know smokes when met with marble and eats away at the red granite of mosaic tiles. It is harmless to the body, but I do not have to tell you that either.”

Aurora understood the meaning of Cornelia’s words, but was still perplexed by her reasoning.

“Why
pretend
to poison Claudius then, if poisoning him was not your intention at all?”

“Because I needed to know that Balbus was loyal to me,” said Cornelia. “That he would do anything for me. That he would do anything to
be
with me.”

Aurora nodded in understanding. “There is just one last question which has vexed me,” Aurora said finally. “The mark upon your body. How is it that I did not notice it until the night we fled?” Of all her questions this one bothered her the most.

“Ahh, yes, the mark. You did not notice it because until that night it wasn’t there, at least not to any who gazed upon me. I could not risk others connecting us by that mark so I disguised it.” Aurora did not understand, and Cornelia must have glimpsed her confusion, because she added with a small grin. “A bit of white marl and chalk powder is all I have ever needed to mask the flaws upon my skin, including that of a certain tattoo.”

Makeup.
“Clever.” It certainly eased her mind to know she had not been so distracted that she’d failed to notice the mark of The Order upon another Keeper.

A small smile found its way across Aurora’s face then as she reflected on her last assignment, so unlike all the ones before it.

Each of them—Artemisia, Cornelia, Aurora—had their duties, intertwined as they were, but still all their own. Cornelia had aided Olympia in having Aurora inserted within Claudius’ home by encouraging him to acquire a
gladiatrix
, then she’d done her best to keep Aurora in her husband’s favor. She’d even tried to aid her by furnishing her with a weapon.

Aurora would be forever grateful to Cornelia for what she’d done and knew no matter the differences between this woman and Olympia, that Cornelia now had Aurora’s friendship as well.

With the tension between Olympia and Cornelia, Olympia had found other duties to occupy her elsewhere while the two women talked until eventually they’d moved to Aurora’s chambers to allow Olympia to return to hers.

Cornelia and Aurora visited together until the hour grew late and Cornelia retired for the evening. Cornelia would stay for the night in the temple before returning to Capena at dawn, so Aurora wished her well before Cornelia departed for the guest quarters.

Now that she found herself alone, Aurora began preparing her pallet for the night, but stopped when Olympia knocked gently against her door.

“May I come in?”

Aurora nodded, already gleaning the reason for her late visit. It wasn’t until much later, after Cornelia’s departure, that Aurora realized she and Olympia had never finished their discussion from earlier.

“You had good news.”

“I do, but before I get to that, I know already the question you have for me and I wish to answer that as well.”

The strained disquiet between Cornelia and Olympia had been so thick and heavy it had appeared almost visible, hovering around them like a dawning fog.

“Cornelia comes from a distinguished and honored maternal line within The Order. And one day I am certain she shall find herself among the Covenant, for which she is well deserving. Cornelia has had many successes, and she is as determined and loyal as any Keeper.”

“But?” Aurora asked, when Olympia did not rush to finish.

“But her mind is of the old ways. She would have every woman in The Order dedicated to its purpose and nothing else.”

Aurora had gathered as much. For Cornelia, her duty to The Order fulfilled her in every way. She enjoyed the attentions of men, but did not suffer the stirrings of the heart. Aurora understood well Cornelia’s position, because she’d once been of the very same mind—
before
Cyrus.