A Noble Captive (14 page)

‘I know that.’ Quintus stood at attention. ‘It was my great pleasure to take it for the entire cohort.’

‘An oath such as that is not soon tossed away.’

Tullio strode back towards his abandoned game. He felt sorry for the centurion. Captivity was not easy…for anyone. But certain conventions and rules had to be obeyed. None of his men would be left to rot in a pirate’s prison while the others made a futile gesture of escape. He wanted his men alive, not massacred.

‘If you would just see, sir.’ Quintus stepped in front of Tullio. His face took on a wheedling expression. ‘I’m positive that it’ll be a simple task to work our way down to the harbour. By Jupiter, I am. It will give us a chance to regain our lost honour.’

Honour. There wasn’t a breath when that particular virtue was far from his mind. They had lost much honour, but this was not the way to recapture it.

‘Do you think the seafarers will let us march down to the docks and commandeer one of their ships?’

‘The men are getting restive. It has been nearly two weeks since we arrived on this rock and all we have done is strengthen the temple. We’re helping the pirates out. When the time comes, we’ll have provided an impenetrable place for their last stand.’

‘Are you questioning my judgement, Quintus?’ Tullio drew himself up to his full height, towering over the smaller man. Their eyes locked until Quintus looked away.

‘Not questioning it exactly, but confused.’ The centurion scratched his head. ‘I say if I’m right and Neptune brews up a storm with his trident, at the first sign of Jupiter’s lightning bolt, we break out through the warehouse and head for the harbour. The seafarers will all run for cover. We take a trireme and are out of here before the seafarers can mount a counter-attack.’

‘Have you ever piloted a trireme before? Have the other men? Can you read the stars?’ Tullio asked between gritted teeth.

‘No, but—’

‘Then leave the thinking to me. Your job is to obey orders and get the men ready. When the time comes, we will recapture the standard. I promise you on our sacred Rome.’ Tullio pulled his cloak tighter around his body. He glanced up at the thick, ever-blackening clouds. ‘Let’s get the men under cover. A north wind is starting to pick up. The storm looks about ready to hit.’

‘W
here’s Niobe, my Lady Helena? Please, have you seen my sister?’

Helena paused in her examination of wine amphorae and looked up at Niobe’s brother, Pius, who was standing in the doorway, wringing his cap with his hands. Her back ached from bending over the amphorae. She needed to determine if any of the cork bungs had started to leak. A job she found difficult to entrust to anyone else, like so many other jobs. And now it was one more thing to add to her hectic day. It was at times like these that Helena vaguely wished she did not have responsibility, that she was an ordinary person without any cares or worries about other people and their problems.

‘Niobe will be tending the geese, as she always does.’

‘There’s a storm brewing, and you know how she hates storms. Last time, she disappeared for two days and I discovered her crouched in a cave, hands over her ears.’

Helena rose and dusted the storeroom dirt off her gown. She pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear and glanced out of the narrow slit of a window.

When she had arrived at the warehouse, the sky had been
a brilliant blue, but now huge dark clouds rolled. She shivered and picked up her discarded shawl and tucked it firmly about her head and shoulders. She wished she had opted for a heavier garment. This one was good for keeping off the sun, but did little to provide any warmth.

The sky had blackened. Helena lit an oil lamp, taking her fire stone from her hanging purse to produce a spark. The lamp flared and provided a golden glow, helping to drive away the storm’s darkness. Storms always brought back the memory of that fateful day with her mother.

‘Where’s that storm blown up from?’ She wrinkled her nose and cursed herself for being so unobservant. Steps had to be taken to make the temple safe from a ferocious battering. Last storm but one was when they lost the roof off the goat shed. She tried to think of all the things that had to be accomplished before a storm hit. ‘There’s so much that needs to be done. Why did no one inform me? Have the guards been alerted?’

‘Neptune is not happy with us.’ Pius held out his hands. Tears shone in his big eyes. Given his size, it was easy to forget that Pius was closer to being a boy than a man. ‘You will help me find my sister, won’t you? She worships you, has done ever since you bandaged her prize goose’s wing. Even if she is hidden away in one of those caves, she will come out if you call.’

Helena hesitated. She should be supervising the men, but they did know their jobs. Niobe’s quick thinking had saved her life. The least she could do was to return the favour.

‘We had best check the temple grounds first.’

‘She won’t be there. I saw her on the way up the mountain earlier.’ Pius twisted his cap. His face wore a pleading, wheedling expression. ‘What will I tell our mother if she is missing again? What will I tell the sibyl? She told me to take extra-special care of Niobe as she was precious to Kybele.’

‘It does no harm to look. She might have returned.’ Helena placed a hand on Pius’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find her.’

After making sure the guards were doing their duty, Helena began looking for Niobe. She was not in any of her usual places, but some of the geese were milling about. Helena lifted the latch and let them back into the pen. They rushed in with a great honking. She called out, but Niobe did not appear. She glanced up the mountain and thought she saw a red shawl flapping in the distance.

Niobe, it had to be.

The low rumble of thunder resounded in her ears. Helena bit her lip, torn with indecision. Everyone was busy. but what if she asked one of the Romans for help? They were soldiers, surely they would be used to searching for people.

She made a face. It was an excuse—like all the other excuses she had thought up to see Tullio again. She had to stop this. It was simply a sickness that would be cured by time. She had to remember what Captain Androceles had said and what he was capable of doing. No good ever came from being friends with a Roman. The only thing Tullio wanted from her was the one thing she dared not give—the temple’s allegiance to Rome.

The red shawl appeared to have stopped, no longer fluttering in the breeze, urging her onwards.

‘Niobe, wait there! I am coming.’

If she hurried, Helena was certain that she could reach Niobe, and lead her back to the temple’s safety before the heavy downpour of rain started. For Niobe, she would brave the mountain during a storm.

This was one problem she’d solve without Tullio’s help.

‘Have you seen Helena?’ Galla asked from the doorway.

Tullio turned from the game of
latrunculi
he was playing
with Rufus to look at Galla. He had finally manoeuvred his glass soldiers to within a striking position of Rufus’s king. The pieces might not be conventional, but the game was no less intriguing for that. Above all, it occupied his mind.

Quintus and the other men stood about in groups, playing knucklebones, swapping impossibly tall tales, but behaving themselves.

The maidservant had a worried expression on her face. He pushed back his stool and crossed the stone floor to her. Quintus was only a few steps behind him.

‘Is there some problem, Galla?’ Tullio asked.

‘Neptune is brewing a terrible storm with his trident and the sibyl is asking for Helena.’ Galla wrung her hands. ‘She wants to know if all the preparations have been made. Last time there was a storm, Helena forgot to instruct the guards to remove the statues of Kybele from the courtyard, and one of them toppled. Unlike Helena to leave like this. She should have told someone where she was going.’

Tullio laid a hand on her shoulder and felt the tension reverberate through the maid. Something was wrong with Helena. His insides twisted. Too clearly he remembered her body on the cave floor. A little while longer and he might have been too late.

Had she attempted to contact the goddess again? Surely she was not so foolish. She had barely recovered from the last time.

‘Have any more questions been asked of the sibyl?’

She shook her head slowly. ‘It would not matter if they had. Helena has nothing to do with the sibyl’s communications with Kybele. She deals only with the day-to-day running of the temple.’

Who did this woman think sent the prophecy to Androceles?

It angered him that Helena’s contribution was so little ac
knowledged. She ran the temple, answering questions, making sure the food was there for those villagers, and the sibyl simply sat in her room and communed with the goddess. Without Helena, this temple would be nothing. However, it was not worth an argument. Instead, he nodded. ‘It does relieve me to hear that.’

‘Ever since she was a child, Helena has hated thunderstorms.’ Galla cast him a sharp look. ‘She used to wake, screaming and bathed in sweat at the slightest rumble. It would take hours, and sometimes the sibyl would be woken.’

‘Have you checked everywhere?’ Tullio fought to keep his irritation under control. Helena needed more than begrudging comfort. She deserved more than that. She was a person, not a machine to help the temple function better. ‘Is there somewhere else she could have gone?’

‘I have looked everywhere I can think of, from the kitchen to the store rooms and even the sacred places of the temple. I thought perhaps she might have come to see the patients. Helena takes her duties seriously.’

‘We are all well recovered now,’ Rufus broke in, ‘thanks to her ministrations. Once we get more stone, I’m joining the work detail.’

‘We will discuss that later, Rufus.’ Tullio laid a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. Now was not the time to be pressing their demands. ‘Helena appears to be missing.’

The older woman’s face crumpled and a sigh escaped her throat. Quintus moved quickly and led her to a stool. She leant her head against Quintus’s shoulder and Tullio wondered if there was more to Quintus’s interest in her than simply exchanging recipes for fig bread.

‘I am worried that some harm has befallen her. The sibyl was most insistent…’

‘Would you like us to search for her?’ Tullio knelt down so that his face was on the same level as the maid’s. He took her hand in his and made sure his voice was even. The ice cold from her palm seeped up his fingers. ‘Where should we start?’

‘The guards and I searched within the grounds.’

‘But what about outside the grounds? She may have gone to the harbour. My men and I could check.’

‘I can’t let you do that. Helena gave the order that you remain within the temple’s ground.’ Galla withdrew her hand and stood up. She paced the room. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

Quintus patted her awkwardly on her shoulder. Tullio had never seen his centurion look so helpless or uncomfortable. The man who had led the last charge against the pirates felled by the possibility of a few tears.

‘Is there any reason why she might have gone down to the village?’ Tullio asked.

‘The captain of the guard would have seen her go. I asked and no one has seen her since midday.’ Galla gave a glance over her shoulder before dropping her voice. ‘I’m so afraid that she has gone up the mountain and something has happened to her. They say that is how her mother perished—hit by Jupiter’s lightning bolt when Helena was naught but a wee thing.’

‘Knowledge of that caused her fear?’

‘Oh, no. She was discovered next to her mother. The tree that crushed the Lady Lydia also crushed Helena’s little finger, so the captain of the guard told me.’

Tullio’s stomach tightened. After experiencing that, all Helena had was grudging sympathy. No wonder she tried to stand alone. He wanted to make sure she knew that she no longer had to. She could turn to him for comfort. He would protect her if he could, as he had done when he discovered her in the cave.

‘Did you question Niobe? The little goose girl seems always to know where Helena is.’ Tullio forced his mind away from the memory of carrying Helena’s nearly lifeless body. ‘If anyone knows, it will be Niobe.’

‘Niobe is at home today with her mother. I already had the captain of the guards check. Her brother thought the girl missing, but discovered her making pastry.’

Tullio pressed his fingertips together. Here might be a way to turn Quintus’s thoughts from escape. He could amuse Galla for a short while Tullio discovered where Helena had gone. A neat solution to the problem. ‘Will you permit me to go search for Helena? Leaving my men here as a guarantee.’

He heard protesting noises from the men, in particular Quintus, but silenced them with a look. He refused to have discipline slip. It was a chance to prove his worth to Galla, Helena and the sibyl.

‘Would you do that? Would you really do that?’ Galla’s eyes shone. ‘Because of the Lady Lydia’s death, no one dares brave the mountain during a storm unless they are forced to.’

‘Without hesitation.’ Tullio tried to ignore the fear growing in his belly. The memory of Helena’s white-robed body in the prophecy cave was too vivid. He needed to find her and convince himself that she was safe. He wanted to discover why she had taken a chance like this, why she had taken the risk. ‘If she is on the mountain, I’ll find Helena and bring her back unharmed.’

‘Then find her.’ Galla clasped his hand with a tight grip. ‘Find Helena and bring her back here safely. May Kybele and the rest of the gods go with you.’

‘Niobe! It’s me, Helena. Come out and we will go to your mother. Niobe, I am here to help you!’

The first large drops of rain splattered Helena’s face. She
paused in her climb up the mountain to readjust her shawl more firmly about her head and shoulders. Sweat plastered her hair against her forehead. The temple complex below her looked like a collection of statuettes. She had climbed far and fast, but still no Niobe.

Niobe’s beloved red shawl had clung to a thorn bush halfway up the mountain, fluttering in the breeze, but there was no sign of the goose girl. Helena tried to keep the worry from rising as she scrambled across a dry stream bed. At least, she did not have to be concerned about Niobe being swept away. The rain had not begun to fall, and Niobe was sensible. She knew how swiftly the streams became torrents.

She had to think. No one had ever just disappeared on the island. They were safe from the kidnappings that plagued other communities. The seafarers respected the sanctity of this place. Niobe was somewhere on this mountain.

The wind whipped her shawl across Helena’s mouth. With impatient fingers, she pushed it away. She had to find Niobe before the storm broke. She refused to leave the girl out here defenceless.

The sky had turned an inky black now, making it seem more like the late evening rather than mid-afternoon. Helena knew how the gods disliked anyone to be on the mountain during a storm.

Perhaps Niobe had returned to the temple by another way.

Helena put her hands on her knees and drew another breath.

Her throat ached from calling Niobe’s name. She tried once more but there was no answer.

Helena struggled through two thorn bushes to reach the small trickle of water in another stream bed. She scooped up some water and quenched her thirst. The ice-cold water restored some small measure of calm.

Helena rocked back on her ankles, trying to think logically. Niobe had never come to any harm on the mountain, even when she disappeared during that storm. Aunt Flavia had said it was because she had Kybele’s special protection.

She had to be somewhere, waiting for the worst of the storm to pass. Helena stood up and took one last look around. No sign of any living creature.

The rain started to fall in earnest, coming down in a sheet of water. Helena readjusted her shawl so that her head was better covered. She could feel the cold drops as they seeped through her gown.

No doubt Galla would fuss and force her to drink a cup of hot mulsum wine when she returned. She could almost taste the honey-sweetened drink now and feel how good the warm cup would be in her hands.

Niobe’s quick thinking had saved her a few days ago, and Helena needed to repay the favour. She had to keep looking. Just one more circuit of the hillside…

A large clap of thunder resounded overhead as a bolt of lightning sliced through the sky, throwing everything into a queer white brilliance.