The Winged Serpent (The Order of the Oath) (34 page)

“And what direction would
you
see The Order take?”

“One that is more becoming of the changing times.” Olympia seemed to weigh her words carefully before she spoke again. “Besides The Order, we that uphold the oath have nothing else to live for. Years ago, I would have said any distraction threatens The Order, but now I am no longer certain.”

Olympia pierced her with probing eyes, and Aurora held her breath already knowing what was to come because she’d witnessed such a look upon her friend’s face in the past.

“I met Cyrus once, when he was first entering the arena, and still had not taken to his life as a slave. I watched him closely during those games, and the look in his eyes was so like the one I’d glimpsed in your own many years ago—full of determination and the resounding will to survive.”

Olympia turned from her then. “I chose you Aurora for this mission because I knew you would do your duty, but it was a test as well.”

Aurora started in surprise, a slow anger coiling in her belly. “A test?” Her eyes narrowed. “Please do not tell me this was because of one of your visions, your premonitions,” Aurora snapped at her friend, but she already knew. Aurora was of the mind that Olympia’s visions held some truth, but her mentor could not make decisions pertaining to The Order on them alone. It was foolishness; it was madness.

“Doubt me all you want, mock me if you must, The Order is changing, the world around us is changing, and you, Aurora, are the key.”

She was the key? The key to
what
exactly? Aurora barely managed to stifle a wry snort, for when it came to The Order, she was just one among hundreds who upheld the oath. She was not special.

“Again, your face suggests you do not believe me. Well, believe what you must, Aurora, but before you met Cyrus, I was there to witness the shadows in your eyes, the past that haunted you, but that haunts you no more. Where you once lived behind a wall, you have opened yourself to others—Cyrus and Artemisia, even Cornelia. You returned to Ostia with a reason to live, because you discovered love—”

“But to what end?” Aurora fumed. “Cyrus does not love me back, at least not as I love him, and I almost failed in my duty
because
of him.”

“Almost,
maybe
—but you didn’t, and I wager Cyrus
does
love you the same, he just has yet to realize it.”

Aurora shook her head. “Listen to yourself, Olympia. You cannot put at risk our entire Order because of your visions, which tell you to match make. Much like Cornelia, I am convinced you shall someday find yourself among The Covenant, and I do not wish you to jeopardize yourself because of some misguided premonitions.”

Olympia smiled, her eyes kind, her expression patient. Aurora did not share in the tranquility of Olympia’s countenance. She thought it madness what Olympia suggested. The Order of Hesperia had long been a secret society of women
who’d pledged their lives to the goddess of war and The Empire. They’d taken an oath and long had they honored it. In times past, a Keeper was forbidden to take a husband. That was not so now, but most still did not. Those who
did
soon found themselves no longer taking assignments, except for the most trivial of tasks.

Aurora knew her friend well and from the look in her eyes, Olympia’s vision for The Order would see that matrons and wives
still
served the goddess and The Empire. It was foolishness, madness.

“It is,” Olympia said as if reading her thoughts. “But the same was said of Hippolyte when she unified the branches and established The Covenant. Many said it could not be done, others even rebelled, calling her a tyrant. Yet, we are stronger now
because of her actions.

“I know my visions, Aurora, and I have seen what will come of us if we remain rigid in our duty.”

Olympia appeared convinced, and Aurora had learned a long time ago, to quarrel with her was futile when she had her convictions.

“Well, time shall reveal if you are right.” With a small smile, Aurora left behind that conversation to return to another, one she’d been eager to broach from the moment Olympia had walked into Aurora’s chambers. “Enough of these premonitions and visions you have of The Order.” Aurora’s face brightened. “I would much rather hear this good news you have for me.”

Chapter Sixteen

Just north of the Greek lands of Macedon, Thrace had once been an untamed and wild land, a primitive home to hundreds of nomadic tribes.

The Romans had changed that, bringing with them their architecture, their roads and baths, their culture and people. Bustling and thriving cities now stretched across the Roman province of Thrace, but just beyond the banks of the Mesta one could still find the original tribes scattered across what remained of the open lands of old Thrace.

Upon horseback, Cyrus now made his way to his home. Four years had passed since he’d set foot on Thracian soil, and he had not known what emotions would course through him upon returning there.

Cyrus had prepared himself for the dueling sentiments of anger and joy.

The fury that still simmered through his veins at his brother’s betrayal was only tempered by what he’d imagined would be the welcome relief of returning to all that was familiar to him.

He was surprised to discover as he neared the thatched roof hut which had once been his, he felt neither anger, nor joy. Regret was what settled in the pit of his stomach and tightened his chest. To leave Aurora and return there had been a mistake. This was not his home—not these lands, not this place, not anymore.

Aurora was his home, and within her arms was where he’d found peace, in her arms was where he felt safest.

It was too late to turn away now, he was mere footsteps away from his old dwellings.

But he would have to tell Sorina the truth.

Before they’d parted ways, Cornelia had tried to tell him this would happen. That he would return to the life he’d left behind out of duty and honor, only to discover there was neither duty nor honor in living a lie with one he did not love.

He had been stubborn about returning. One did not abandon his obligations.

Cyrus could not have lived with himself had he not journeyed to Thrace, but he knew the moment he saw her rushing from what had once been their home, that neither could he stay.

The light of early dawn spread its shimmering fingers of gold and copper across the horizon, touching upon her amber locks, creating a halo about her face.

She smiled warmly as she neared, her face as beautiful as he’d remembered, and a knot of guilt twisted in his gut as he leapt down from his horse. The tightness in his belly grew worse with every passing second as he moved to close the distance between them. With every step he took, he felt as if a weight of iron had settled in his stomach.

He called her name, and she called his as they embraced warmly, but their arms around one another were those of siblings, joyful to see each other, but lacking the passion of intimate love.

Cyrus’ longing for Aurora grew fiercer, his need to see her, to be with her once again caused him to ache with want until he could feel the wrenching pain of it within the space of his heart.

“Cyrus,” Sorina cried, her eyes sparkling with tears. “I did not believe it was you when I saw you on the horizon. So long I thought you dead, I thought you were—” Her voice broke and she hugged him again as if she could not believe he stood before her, alive and well.

“It warms me to know you are well,” she said finally.

He cupped her cheek. “As I hope you have been well,” he replied, his gaze drifting lower until it settled upon her distended belly. “I trust you have wed again, that you now have the family you long desired.”

Her eyes filled with guilt, but before she could speak, he halted her with the shake of his head. “I have been gone for four years Sorina, and you thought me dead. I only ever wanted you to be happy.” Her attention had settled on the ground and he lifted her chin. “Please tell me you are happy.”

Her face brightened instantly, and it pleased him to see her joyful expression, that he would not carry a burden of guilt around because he’d hurt her.

“Very,” she admitted, but the smile on her face soon dipped into a frown and her eyes clouded with pain. “After Orthon died I did not think I would ever love again. I did not believe I would ever know happiness again.”

“Orthon is dead?” Cyrus almost doubled over.

Sorina nodded sadly. “The both of you were ambushed by Roman thieves. Orthon’s body was found, but never yours. We’d all thought you dead, that for some reason they’d taken your body with them.” She palmed his cheek with her hand. “That is why it is a miracle that you have returned to us, that you are alive.”

Cyrus did well in masking his features so that she would not glimpse his true emotions. It was no ‘miracle’ at all. Orthon had sold him, then left expecting to return to Sorina with a small fortune, but he’d been betrayed. The trader had apparently not wanted to part with such an enormous sum.

Because of his greed, his jealousy, his deceit—Orthon had forfeited his life.

All this time, Cyrus had been embittered, festering in his rage toward a dead man. In the space of that moment, Cyrus felt nothing, but later, when he was alone, he would mourn for the brother he’d lost, the one he’d once loved, not the one who’d betrayed him so cruelly.

Sorina looked up at him expectantly, and he realized then she’d spoken.

There were many questions she had for him, and she wanted to know if he would stay to meet her husband and her other child. She wished to know what had happened to him, and if he’d returned home for good. Following after her toward what had once been his home, he agreed to join her family for supper, and then he would answer all of Sorina’s questions,
especially
the one that burned in his heart.

Had he returned home for good?

Thrace was no longer his home, and while he did not know
where
his home was at this particular moment, he
knew
it was with Aurora.

* * * *

Aurora had been in Antium for nearly three months, and she was beginning to take to the coastal port city that had much in common with her former home of Ostia.

Just south of both Rome and Ostia, Antium moved at a somewhat more leisurely pace from the other two cities. Aurora decided it was the abundance of simple countryside villages bordering the town that had much to do with Antium’s languid demeanor.

Aurora found the unhurried manner of Antium to her liking. Although, she reasoned, even had she
not
liked the city, Olympia would not have agreed to see her return.

That had been her friend’s good news. Aurora had been appointed to the position of high priestess to the temple in Antium. Minerva’s temple was newly constructed, giving Aurora the freedom to recruit acolytes and Keepers as she saw fit. Aurora had taken the ‘good’ news
relatively
well.

The role of the high priestess was to see to the training of the next generation of acolytes, gather information, and dispatch Keepers upon missions. Aurora was to be the brains of this branch of The Order, the one who orchestrated every single detail. She was up to the task, even as she’d lamented her newest duty. Her missions would become less frequent, and in her mind, less dangerous.

When eventually Aurora had learned of her condition, she had later accused Olympia of consigning her to such a position because of her predicament, a predicament she was certain Olympia had glimpsed in one of her premonitions, long before Aurora had discovered the truth. But, instead of confirming Aurora’s suspicions, Olympia had simply looked at Aurora crossly, reminding her that the position of high priestess was considered an
honor
and to refuse her appointment would dishonor not only Aurora, but Olympia as well.

Olympia was a formidable foe when crossed.

Aurora set out for Antium within days of Artemisia taking her final vows—her eternal oath to The Order. Her friend had joined her on her journey, along with Cybele, who Aurora was fortunate to have among her ranks. When the time came to begin weaponry training for Imogene and her other newest acolytes, Cybele would prove invaluable.

Aurora smiled as familiar wide taupe eyes filled her vision. It was a miracle Imogene was still alive, and that she now joined Aurora in Antium—although the latter was due solely to Olympia’s cunning.

Upon returning from the mission where she’d met Imogene, Aurora had recounted the events of her assignment to Olympia, admitting that she suffered guilt because a young girl might possibly have died because of her. Olympia had been intrigued. The girl had meant something to Aurora when few others did. Upon learning she still lived, Olympia had decided Imogene would be an asset to The Order because of her fortitude through her torture, and her friendship with Aurora. So she’d purchased the girl and brought her to Ostia.

“She shall be your first
acolyte,” Olympia had announced on the same night Aurora had been greeted with many
surprises from her friend.

Aurora had been uncertain of Olympia’s decision until she’d stood before the girl, who’d embraced her warmly. Not one to succumb to tears, Aurora had allowed herself that moment as she’d returned the girl’s embrace, the apology she’d thought she’d never get to utter, pouring from her lips.