A Noble Captive (16 page)

Cautiously, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. The cool morning air fanned her face.

‘Good morning.’ His voice rumbled in her ear. His hand ran down her back, sending pleasant tingles throughout her body. ‘Surely you don’t have to get up yet. You can rest a while longer.’

‘The temple will be waking. They will be wondering where I am.’

‘There is that.’ He laced his hands through her hair, drawing it down, making a curtain between them.

Helena raised herself up and instantly his arms released her. She shivered and reached for her discarded clothes.

‘I think it best if I get back. There will be storm damage. Someone will need to be responsible.’

‘As my lady wishes.’ He made no move from the makeshift pallet. She wished he’d say something more, but he merely looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

A faint ache was between her thighs when she moved. She swallowed hard, remembering his words of last night.

No more pain. How wrong he was. How typically Roman.

Roman
—the word resounded in her mind, reminding her that he would not stay for ever, and that Roman promises had never done any of her people any good.

How could she have forgotten?

If the seafarers knew, they would see her liaison with Tullio as a betrayal. She would be branded a traitor. But she had betrayed nothing, except her heart.

Thoughts buzzed through her brain as a swarm of bees might circle the garden on a hot June day, filling the air with their wing beats.

How long had he been awake? How long had he been watching her? Had he liked what he had seen? Had he enjoyed their time together? He had said that he was divorced, unattached. However, nothing approaching love had been spoken between them. They had never discussed the future. What did he think of her?

Her hands stilled on her breast band. It bothered her that she needed his approval. It made her feel vulnerable, exposed.

She finished dressing quickly, hardly daring to look at his glorious body. If she took one peep, she’d be back in his arms, begging for his kiss.

Had she spent the night in his arms? Their passion seemed to be something out of time. Her mouth tasted bitter. There could be no hope for them. How could there be? Aunt Flavia might excuse one night of passion, but any more and she’d have to leave the temple. She’d be an outcast among her people.

If a child should result from last night? Helena swallowed hard. There were ways of preventing a womb from quickening. She had never thought of using them. She’d have to drink raspberry leaf tea from now until her next menses and hope.

Aunt Flavia had a raspberry bush brought from Greece for such a purpose ten years ago. Helena could still remember Zenobia’s scandalised intake of breath, but even she had to admit the berries were sweet.

Helena rubbed the back of her neck. She had deluded herself before about Tullio. Too many obstacles lay between them.

‘So that is it. You are leaving without kissing me good morning.’

Helena forced her fingers to finish fastening her brooch before she turned back.

Tullio was half-raised on an elbow. His magnificent chest where she had rested her head was uncovered. The only concession to modesty was his loin cloth draped over his lower half. Helena’s knees weakened and she longed to sink back down, to taste his rain-soaked skin again. She drew on all her training to resist.

‘I have duties to attend to. Morning is the temple’s busiest time.’

With one fluid movement, he stood up, filling the cave. His fingers caught her arm, turned her towards him and his
eyes searched her face. Helena forced her features to remain impassive.

‘Is that all—you have duties to attend to?’

‘What do you want me to say? What passed between us was very instructive.’

‘Instructive?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I have heard it called many things in my life, but instructive is new.’

‘What would you call it?’

His fingers traced the line of her jaw, sending sharp tingles radiating outwards, making her want to turn her face towards him and to experience that intense moment of pleasure again.

The harsh outline of his mouth softened. Helena swayed towards him. Her lips felt full, her eyelids heavy. A half-smile appeared on his face, his eyes assessing as if he knew her words were but a defence.

‘I expect you are correct. Instructive is as good a word as any.’

Helena stared out at the azure blue sky, a sky so bright, it hurt her eyes. ‘It appears there is sunlight after the storm.’

‘If you wait, I will come with you.’

‘You don’t need to do that. I am perfectly capable of finding my own way back to the temple.’

She wanted to go back to that time not so very long ago when she had listened to the thudding of his heart and felt safe. It all seemed wrong now. Unsettled.

‘I know you can find your way back there. I simply wanted to go with you.’

‘Why?’

‘To make sure you didn’t stumble.’ His tone was light and his eyes twinkled as if they were sharing some intimate joke.

‘Or to make sure somehow you bound me to Rome?’ The words slipped out of her lips and hung between them.

His face became hard. Gone was the lover and in his place
was the Roman tribune, a man used to command. ‘What passed between us last night passed between two people, Helena, not two countries. There was no one there but you and I. Maybe some day you will learn the difference.’

Helena clamped her mouth shut. She started off down the mountainside, with short sharp strides, not caring if the thorn bushes bit into her ankles or not.

Tullio let Helena go, despite the temptation to hold her back. He watched her dark hair stream down her back as she picked her way among the rocks and bracken. The storm of yesterday had cleared the air and, despite the hour, he could already feel the heat beginning to hang heavy, drying the puddles of water. She missed her footing on a rock and he was by her side before she could fully right herself. His fingers touched her elbow, steadying her. If she’d have pulled away again, he’d have let her go, but she didn’t move. She stared at his fingers.

‘When I need your help, I’ll ask for it. I am perfectly capable of walking down this slope on my own.’

‘Sometimes, everyone needs a little help from their friends.’

‘You are not my friend.’

A stab of disappointment coursed through Tullio.

‘Your lover, then.’

There was a sharp intake of breath. He wondered if she’d deny that as well. He knew the sigh of pleasure he had heard after they made love was genuine, but he wanted to hear her say it. He needed to hear her confess that she had experienced delight. That she would do so again.

‘That was a mistake.’ The colour rose even higher in her cheeks, but she made no attempt to move her arm. ‘It should never have happened.’

‘If you think…’ Tullio said, changing the pressure on her
elbow slightly so it became a caress. The skin under his fingers prickled with pleasure. Her body wanted his touch, but he wanted more than that. ‘If you think grinding out a few sentences between gritted teeth about how this was a mistake means that we are finished, you are wrong. We have barely begun. There is nothing wrong with what we did, Helena.’

She pulled away, opening and closing her mouth several times, but no sound issued forth. He waited, listening to her breathing and to the early morning chorus of birds.

‘I have to get back to my people, see what damage the storm wrought.’ Her hands combed through her sleep-tousled hair, straightening it. Her face took on an earnest expression. ‘I need to see if my aunt was disturbed. The last storm caused the roof of the temple to blow off.’

‘If you need any help, you only have to ask.’ He looped his fingers through his belt.

‘I know.’ She made no move to go, but rearranged her shawl. ‘What happened back there…it has no bearing on my future.’

Tullio refrained from answering. If he had anything to do about it, it would, but for now he’d play a waiting game. The time for Helena to choose was not now. It bothered him that her choice should matter, but it did. He wanted to give her the opportunity to make the right decision for both her and her people.

He caught her fingers with his hand and she did not pull away, rather her fingers tightened around his. They walked down the slope together, slowly. Somehow, he swore, he would find a way to make this woman his own not just for the night, but for ever.

At the bottom of the slope, Galla stood, wringing her hands and wiping her face with the end of her shawl. The lines of her face seemed more pronounced than ever. Every so often
she glanced over her shoulder with an increasingly worried expression. Helena quickened her footsteps and called out.

When Galla saw them, she started forward with a cry. Helena dropped his hand and ran towards her. They met halfway and Galla hugged Helena fiercely.

‘As you can see, I’ve returned Helena safe and well.’

Galla turned towards Tullio, her eyes shining with tears. ‘Thank you for keeping your promise. Helena is very precious to this temple. I don’t know how we would have survived without her quick thinking.’

‘You are only saying that because I have not stolen any honey cakes lately.’ Helena’s eyes danced. ‘You are not nearly so complimentary then.’

Something twisted in Tullio’s stomach. Precious to the temple. Useful to the temple, but did they really care about what happened to the woman?

He knew how important the temple was to Helena, but he could not rid himself of a niggling suspicion that her life did not matter very much to them. With great difficulty, he managed to keep hold of his temper.

‘Where did you spend the night? The wind whistled so. The sibyl was worried about you.’ Galla linked her arm with Helena’s.

‘I found a cave to rest in.’ Helena glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. ‘Jupiter was quite fierce last night. Once the storm started in earnest, I did not dare brave the lightning. The other half of the cypress tree was struck.’

Galla made a ticking noise in the back of her throat. ‘Whatever possessed you to go off like that?’

‘The reason does not matter now.’ Tullio moved to the other side of Helena. ‘She is safe and well, and that is all that counts.’

‘The demons of the mountain have not stolen my voice, Tullio.’ Helena’s lips curved into a sweet smile. ‘I went to find
Niobe, but I understand she had already made her way home. Then the storm was too fierce for me to venture back.’

‘And nothing happened?’ Galla stopped. Her sharp eyes went from Helena to Tullio and back again. ‘You were gone all night.’

‘Whatever can you mean, Galla?’ Helena moved away from the maid. Her stomach churned. She forced a breath through her lips. She had to remain calm. ‘Did anything happen here? How many ships were lost? Did the new roof on the warehouse hold?’

‘Androceles craves an interview with you. It is about your uncle. He has returned.’

‘My uncle? Uncle Lichas has arrived back?’ Helena fought to keep her voice steady.

‘Last night.’

‘Oh.’ Helena took a small step backwards. Her face became as white as the newly cut marble on Jupiter’s temple in Rome.

Galla jerked her head towards the main temple.

‘Since the first light, Androceles and his men have been there, waiting. I dare not wake the sibyl. She spent a restless night, only sleeping once the storm abated.’

Tullio moved so he was positioned at Helena’s elbow. Now was the time to make his offer. She had to understand that he wanted to protect her. He and his men would do whatever was in their power to save the temple from the pirates. She had to trust him.

‘I am here if you need anything. I can help. Rome can help,’ he said in an undertone.

‘Haven’t you done enough?’ she replied with stricken eyes.

H
elena forced her feet to walk steadily across the courtyard towards the high altar where Androceles and his entourage waited. Behind him, his bodyguard bristled with menace, their heavily tattooed forearms crossed in front of their chests. Helena’s shoulders eased when she saw they weren’t wearing their swords. They still respected the sanctity of the temple. They had not come to occupy it.

She paused and glanced over her shoulder. Tullio remained in the courtyard. He gave the briefest of nods as if to encourage her. Helena straightened her back and forced her face to be stern.

Androceles must not guess where she had spent the night. What had passed between her and Tullio had no bearing on the future. It had been some sort of madness in her blood. Now it was over. Her heart constricted at the thought but she forced it to be still. She had to be the acolyte and not the woman.

Helena pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear and wished she’d had the time to put on a fresh gown and her cap of red and white ribbons.

Androceles and the captain of the guard broke off their discussion as she approached.

‘There was a time when the sibyl or her representative would have been here to greet me before I could even unbuckle my sword.’ Androceles ostentatiously glanced at his portable sun dial. A gesture designed as much to emphasise his wealth and power as to reinforce how long he had been waiting. ‘It has been nearly an hour by my clock.’

‘Captain Androceles.’ Helena inclined her head. She drew on her years of training to keep her voice steady and sure. She had no need of the outward trappings of the sibyl’s assistant. She knew who she was and what power she held. ‘To what do we owe this early morning visit? We suffered much damage in the storm last night. There is much to be done. However, I’m assured that the warehouses survived the storm. Your goods are safe.’

‘Your uncle’s ship arrived into the harbour at the height of the storm, when the sky was at its blackest.’ Androceles swiftly knelt in front of Kybele’s statue.

Helena forced her body to stay still. Everything seemed to slow down. Her words took an age to say. ‘Is my uncle in good health?’

‘Lightning struck the mast as his trireme pulled into port. Everyone who watched cried out with one voice.’ He bowed his head. ‘I asked Kybele for a vision and refused to believe it. He lies in his palace as if dead.’

‘I should go to him.’ All other thoughts vanished. The only thing Helena could think about was her uncle.

‘Zenobia has her Greek doctor caring for him. No doubt she will send for the sibyl if need be.’

Helena felt a weight pressing down on her chest. Uncle Lichas had always been a voice of support for the temple. Now he was cut off from Aunt Flavia.

‘Kybele speaks very powerfully through the sibyl,’ Andro
celes said as if he were discussing the time of day, but his eyes watched her with the intentness of a hawk.

Helena crossed her arms to hide their trembling. What would he say if he knew the prophecy had not come from the sibyl, but from her? She had to get her mind away from danger. Everything was about to come tumbling out, if she was not careful. Mundane things. She had to talk about the little things, and get Androceles away from the sibyl.

‘I trust it will not take long to repair my uncle’s ship.’ She gestured about the courtyard where fallen statues lay intermingled with bits of masonry and tree branches. ‘I regret that I cannot offer any men. My first priority must be the temple.’

‘Of course, of course, there has never been any suggestion otherwise.’ Androceles’s lips curved in a cruel smile. ‘You are a most able administrator, Helena. I predict you will go far. A pity you were busy last night. Where exactly were you?’

The feeling of cold pervaded Helena. That oblique smile and the quick flick of the eyes. Did Androceles know, or had he guessed?

Her stomach knotted as she realised the danger she had put the temple in. It had been a test from the goddess and she had failed miserably. Worse, she knew if faced with an identical test, she would react in exactly the same way again. But her desire for Tullio in no way affected her loyalty towards the temple and more importantly her people.

‘The temple has a history of good relations with the seafarers.’ Helena chose to ignore the question. ‘No doubt this will continue long after your Romans have left.’

She waited to see if Androceles would challenge the statement and repeat his question. He rocked back on his sandals and sucked his teeth. His hand stroked his chin.

All of Helena’s muscles tightened. She prayed that Tullio
would not speak or draw attention to himself. He had to know how dangerous this situation was. This was not about them but about the very survival of the temple.

‘When all the repairs are complete, the Lady Zenobia wants the sibyl to perform the blessing of the boats. She failed to do that last time.’

Helena allowed a small smile to appear at the corner of her lips. Androceles had accepted her words. She had won. She had crossed the danger point. They could now discuss ordinary temple business.

‘I’m sure the sibyl will be delighted to appear, if the proper tribute is paid.’ Helena made an expansive gesture with her hands. She’d worry about how and when the sibyl appeared when she knew more. ‘The sibyl does expect something in return. Zenobia preferred a new Tyrean purple robe instead of paying the sibyl her proper due, if I recall correctly.’

‘You dare much,’ Androceles blustered.

‘I dare because the villagers need grain. Roofs will have been blown off buildings. The seafarers will look to their boats, but who will look after the temple?’

Androceles shrugged a shoulder, leant forward and tapped his nose. ‘Zenobia assures me that you will not have trouble. Neptune blessed your uncle on this voyage. Grain, olive oil and some of the finest
liquamen
sauce I have seen for years. The sibyl will have to give her opinion on it. Is her taste in fish sauce as discerning as her palate for wine?’

‘The sibyl does enjoy her fish sauce,’ Helena replied cautiously.

‘I shall send over an amphora of my Falerian wine as gratitude for her prophecy.’

Helena regarded her sandals rather than look at Tullio. The seafarer made it seem that Aunt Flavia was as corrupt as An
droceles and his son. Aunt Flavia might enjoy the good life. She received tributes from around the Mediterranean, but the people came first. Always. ‘It’s not necessary.’

‘As long as your aunt appears at the ceremony, I’m sure there will be no problems.’

Helena tilted her head, listening for hidden meaning. A shiver ran down her back. Then she gave her mind a shake. She refused to worry about that now. Some day, everything would be back to the way it should be and she’d be able to stop pretending.

‘Of course the sibyl will be there to perform the ceremony,’ Helena said with much more confidence than she felt. How long would it take to fix a mast?

‘I’d wondered. Word reached your uncle about his sister’s bout of ill health.’ Androceles’s eyes glittered. ‘She has served as sibyl for these past twenty years.’

‘There are always rumours.’ Helena’s head began to pound in earnest. Why had the gods chosen last night for her uncle’s arrival? There was always the possibility that someone would confide in him about his sister’s well-being.

‘When the sibyl last spoke with me, she appeared to be very strong.’ Tullio stepped forward and his eyes seemed to challenge Androceles. Helena’s knees sagged with relief. Rescued again.

Androceles turned as crimson as Tullio’s cloak. He raised an eyebrow.

‘Marcus Livius Tullio and I were discussing the repairs to the temple when Galla found me,’ Helena said. ‘No doubt you’ve spotted the work he and his men have already completed. Romans are excellent engineers.’

Helena waited for Androceles until she released the next breath. Would he see it for the lie it was? But she couldn’t tell the truth. Androceles grunted, but did not pursue the matter.

She signalled to the captain of the guard. ‘Please escort the tribune back to his men. Our interview is over.’

Without protesting, Tullio followed the guard. Helena heaved a sigh of relief. He had shown sense. Without his intervention, the interview might have gone badly wrong.

‘It does surprise me, Helena, that you allow a Roman so much freedom. After the trouble they cause the seafarers…’

‘What trouble was that, Androceles?’ Helena crossed her arms. ‘You have obviously overcome your reluctance to trade with them. I see little reason why the temple should not fulfil its proper role.’

Androceles’s face grew even redder. She could see his hands shake with rage. But he was not yet certain enough to act on it. The sudden knowledge gave her hope.

‘If you are so concerned about my uncle, perhaps I should see him.’

‘Perhaps you should.’ Androceles signalled to his men. ‘There is no time like the present.’

Helena pressed her lips together and wished she had not made the statement. She had neatly boxed herself in. There was no way she could refuse without losing face.

‘I’m ready whenever you are.’

The barracks was quiet, much quieter than Tullio had expected. His men should be up and bustling about, but there was little sign of any activity, not even the clicking of knucklebones or stones. From where he stood in the doorway, he could see three distinct lumps where men still lay on their pallets. The rest were sitting around in dispirited groups, muttering. Quintus should have had the men out rebuilding long before now.

Tullio rubbed the back of his neck. In a way he was glad,
it would give him an excuse to yell, to do something to relieve the frustration he felt.

Watching Helena’s interview with Androceles, he had felt increasingly powerless. Twice he had come close to intervening, but had held his tongue.

He wore no armour, spoke with no authority.

The only thing that pirates understood was force. The puffed-up pompous pirate had his day of reckoning coming. His house would be the first to fall.

The most important thing Tullio had learnt in the army was the necessity of picking his ground. If he was going to fight—and he knew that it would come to a fight—he wanted to ensure all the odds were on his side. He was not sure how the addition of another pirate captain would affect things, but he was certain that when the time came, his men would win. Their dedication and training gave them superiority, if the ground was correct.

Before that he wanted to give Helena the opportunity to pick the correct side. She had to see the difference between the pirates and Rome. He wanted to make sure she made the correct choice.

After last night, it meant a great deal to him. She was more than a symbol. She was Helena, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

‘Mustius Quintus, why are the men lazing about? There is work to be done. Quintus!’ he bellowed, but there was no answering shout.

Tullio frowned. One night away and already his men’s discipline was gone. The problems with Quintus had been brewing for a long time and he would have to take action. No army could function with two commanders.

‘Mustius Quintus, when I call, I expect an answer.’

Silence. He saw the others line up smartly, shoulders back. One legionary glanced at the three still sleeping on the floor. Tullio’s heart sank. Three of his men could not be dead. He had been so sure that everything was going his way, that he was winning Helena over to his side, and that his men would be healthy enough when the tribute arrived to mount an attack against the pirates.

‘Sir, Quintus is not here. He’s gone.’ There was a distinct tremor in the legionary’s voice.

‘Not here? What do you mean?’ Tullio’s mind raced through the possibilities. Had Androceles come to claim some of the legionaries for sport? And had the temple guards let them because Helena was not there to stop them? There were so many things he’d put at risk by giving into his desire. Tullio winced.

Rufus walked over to him and motioned for Tullio to follow him into the corridor. Rufus twisted his belt around his hand and shifted from one foot to the other.

‘Out with it, man, what has happened?’ Tullio instinctively put his hand to where his sword should be, and then inwardly cursed. ‘There may still be time to rescue them.’

‘He and two others, members of his old cohort, left, Livius Tullio, last night at the height of the storm.’

He stared at Rufus, not quite believing his ears.

‘Left? Where did they go? Under whose orders?’ Tullio curled his hand into a fist, but resisted hitting the stone wall. ‘I seem to recall leaving strict orders that you men were to stay here in barracks, out of trouble. I gave my word, man.’

Rufus’s cheeks flushed. He tugged at the neckline of his tunic. ‘He saw his chance and took it.’

Tullio cursed loud and long. He threw open the door, marched over to where Quintus’s pallet lay and saw the
crudely piled-up bundle, something that would fool no one for more time than it took to blink an eye.

The other two missing men were young legionaries, men who had looked up to Quintus, worshipped him almost as a god. Tullio’s stomach felt as if it were doubly punched.

‘I gave orders for him to stay.’

‘He said that it was his duty as a Roman soldier to escape.’

‘It was his duty to obey orders!’

How could he begin to explain to Helena what had happened? He had given his word. How would she ever trust him again?

He had been so close. Everything had been within his grasp. He stared at the rough plastered wall, mastering his temper before he turned towards Rufus. ‘Why didn’t you stop him?’

‘The man saved my life,’ Rufus replied quietly. ‘He saved the life of every man here. We owed him a life-debt.’

Tullio gazed around the room. The men’s faces were white in the gloom. The last thing he needed was this complication. Helena had trusted him; now, through the actions of someone else, a man under his command, all that trust was about to be destroyed. She would have to offer them up to the pirates, and retribution would be swift and sure.

‘He has put every man’s life in danger. How do you think the pirates will react when they discover his escape? We have no weapons, nothing.’