For a Roman's Heart (14 page)

“Why is it understandable?”

“My parents are…well, you’ve seen them. You know how they are and what they are.”

“I have an idea. They are
not
loving parents.”

She shook her head. “No. Does anyone have loving parents?”

“Adrenia, how can you say that?” The aching quality in his voice vibrated over her senses. “Have you never known love?”

Love. When he said the word a curling, building heat coiled in her belly. Her entire body took notice of him both mentally and physically until she wanted to ask for shelter in his arms, for the love he mentioned.

She smiled weakly. “I loved my little brother Primus, and he loved me. Then when he disappeared…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “My sisters are…well, I’ve never had love from them. Most of the time they avoid me when they see me in the village.” She gazed up into his eyes and saw encouragement to continue explaining. “But then I never had love from them when they lived with us so I am used to it.” She frowned. “There was my oldest sister Prima. She was kind.” An ache burned in Adrenia’s heart. “She disappeared fifteen years ago.”

“Both Primus and Prima disappeared?”

“Yes. Primus ten years ago. Prima fifteen years ago, as I said.”

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. When he looked at her again, his eyes held that rawness, that sympathy she’d only received from Pella and her husband. It fascinated her to see the giving flowing from him, to experience his strength like a live thing sheltering her from a storm.

“Tell me more, Adrenia. There is something more that you are not telling me about their disappearance.”

Fear danced with a need to unburden. “I cannot. Not…now.”

He nodded. “Very well. When you are ready. What else can you tell me about Sulla?”

Fear receded somewhat under his beguiling tone. This Terentius, gentle and understanding, threw her off guard every time.

“He’s brutal.” She licked her lips. “But I would expect most soldiers to be that way. Aren’t you when need be?”

One corner of his mouth tilted upward. “But as I told you, I never harm women or children, nor do I suffer anyone to do so.” He brushed over her cheek, tilting her face so she caught the softness in his eyes. “No matter what you say to me, Adrenia, I will never harm you. Ever. There is nothing you could do to inspire violence within me.”

Heat blossomed in her at his words, her heart responding on the deepest level. “A man has never said that to me before. No one has.”

“Believe it. I never lie.”

“I can’t say the same for me. Do you trust me?”

He frowned and released her chin. “I think you’ve lied to survive, never to hurt anyone. Is that true?”

His insight staggered her, brought a softening to her heart, to her senses that she didn’t want to have. For if anything happened to those feelings, if he crushed them one day, she didn’t know how she’d stand it. “It is.”

“Then I have no reason to mistrust you.”

Again she spilled her thoughts, revealing to him things she couldn’t say to anyone else. “If you lied to me, I think it
would
hurt me.”

“I will speak the truth even when it’s distasteful on the tongue.” His voice, still earnest and strong, held undeniable passion. “Now tell me about Sulla before I take you home.”

Haltingly, with trepidation despite his assurances, she told Terentius about the day Sulla had bought the slave for her father. “I wanted to save her. But I couldn’t. I saw in a vision that she was originally from Gaul—”

She stared at him, horrified that she’d mentioned another vision.

“Speaking of visions,” he said, “your revelation about the man with a beard saved my life.”

She closed her eyes and turned away, terrified of what he’d think now. Yet deep inside relief flowed freely. Having the vision and confessing it was worth any price if it saved this soldier from harm. Adrenia felt his heat as he walked up behind her.

He leaned forward until his voice rumbled close to her ear. “Thank you for telling me. I know it must have been difficult for you.”

“I’m glad you took my warning to heart.”

“Just glad?”

She turned toward him, knowing her heart must shine in her eyes, well aware that somewhere along the line his countenance had grown on her until she thought him the handsomest man she’d ever seen. “More than grateful.”

“There’s nothing you could have done.”

“What?”

“About the slave girl from Gaul.”

“She was torn from her homeland, torn from comfort and her family—I know her entire family was killed.”

“You can’t know that. Perhaps she would find more comfort with a master than with wherever she is from.”

She smiled sadly. “I do know her family was killed. I saw it in my mind. It wasn’t her choice, you see, to be taken from where she lived before. Then she was under Sulla’s power.”

“Is her life with your household harsh?”

She snorted a soft laugh. “I don’t know. I never saw her at our house. My father said to Sulla that he shouldn’t damage her the way he did the last one. I never knew Sulla had bought a slave for my father before until that moment, and I never saw a female slave anywhere in our fields. My father has two male slaves that work with him on the farm. They live in a barn.”

She drew her cloak tighter around herself. Terentius rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You are saying Sulla took these women and what? Resold them?”

“Perhaps.”

Terentius pondered for a moment, his intelligent eyes clouded. “Maybe not. If your father told him not to damage the new girl like the last one, he surely understands that Sulla enjoys raping and torturing women.”

She drew in a sharp gasp.

Terentius cupped her face. “I am sorry to speak so plainly. I don’t want you to hide from this. Not if it will keep you safe to know what he’s done in the past.”

“If I stay the course I’ve followed since I was very young, I should survive.”

“I believe you will. You are a strong woman, Adrenia. I vow to show you more of the world. More kindnesses and goodness. First we’ll deal with the things that are not easy or pleasant. I need your help. Does Sulla meet with your father on specific days?”

She thought back. “We’ve run into Sulla at the market at the same time each week.”

He smiled, but this time the grin held no mirth. “Then I will be there too.”

Chapter Seven

“The cause is hidden. The effect is visible to all.”

Ovid

Roman Poet, 43 BC–c. AD 18

The shrine to Coventina stood away from the main villa building by fifty yards. Adrenia often wondered why Decimus Caelius Cordus had chosen this spot. She knew she might encounter others worshipping there at any time of day. As luck would have it, no one stood there making offerings. She arrived at the marble pedestal carved with an image of the goddess as a nubile woman, both aristocratic and beautiful. Adrenia looked around. Two slaves worked in the fields beyond with oxen and plow.

Seconds later, Adrenia knelt in the patch of cut grass and drew a simple white bead from a pocket in her
tunica
. She placed the bead next to several other items already left in offering to the goddess. She closed her eyes, drew in a substantial breath, and started her silent prayers.

Coventina, by all that is holy and wise, by all that is sacred and clean, please heal Pella completely and keep her and Pontius safe.

She sank into a quiet, contemplative place where wind, birdsong and other noises faded to a distant background. This time the words came out loud. “Coventina, please keep Terentius Marius Atellus safe and assist him in finding Publius Sergius Sulla.”

A twig snapped. She swung around. The villa owner’s daughter, Decima Prima Cordia, stood less than ten yards away in all her aristocratic glory. The sun sent streaks of light over her braided hair, as if the heavens weaved gold within and without the strands. The hard expression in Cordia’s eyes belied the fact that she was only a tender sixteen. Then again, the tenderness had left her many years ago, if she ever owned any.

Cordia lifted her nose and walked toward Adrenia with a sly twist to her lips. Adrenia stood so she wouldn’t be kneeling when the younger girl reached her.

“You know the centurion Terentius Marius Atellus?” Cordia’s voice held genuine scorn, as it always did in any conversation with Adrenia.

“I do.” Adrenia stiffened, ready for inevitable verbal battle.

Cordia’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “You know him well enough to pray for him?”

“In my estimation.”

Cordia crossed her arms. “I prayed here this morning for Terentius to visit us at the villa. He is a very powerful and handsome man.” Her grin turned smug. “This proves Coventina is with me and approves of an alliance with him.”

Alliance?
Adrenia’s heart sank like a stone in a pond. She shouldn’t feel this hurt when she’d only known him a short time. But she did.

The next words out of Adrenia’s mouth were the hardest she’d ever spoken. “Then let me be the first to wish you joy.”

Cordia walked around her and the altar, her steps light, her slim frame and stature still taller than Adrenia. Everyone seemed to be larger than Adrenia, and right now she felt her lack of height more than she had in a long time. “My mother is determined I will marry him if he is good husband material. Would that worry you?”

Adrenia frowned. “Why would I care who the centurion marries?”

“Because a friend told me she saw you in Terentius’s company at the fortress.” Cordia sighed. “I don’t suppose it is wise to tell you. Then again, I am always honest.”

Adrenia had experienced enough of younger women lording it over her today. “You are always honest, or you speak of your opinion as if it is fact?”

Cordia’s face reddened, her gaze turning from self-satisfied to scathing. “You are an uncouth peasant. If my father hadn’t freed your father you’d be a slave right now, wouldn’t you? You are dreadful. You do not seriously think Terentius is interested in you?”

“Did I say he was?”

“My friend said you looked quite cozy with the centurion. Of course, if he had sex with you I understand. After all, a man must have release. I wouldn’t expect him to be choosy about a whore.”

Adrenia drew upon her reserves of control when she wanted to slap Cordia.

The younger girl’s full lips pursed for a moment. “You shouldn’t think you can influence him in your favor. He is a higher station in life than you.” Cordia laughed, the sound brittle and harsh. “But then, everyone is of a higher rank than your family.”

Despite being used to verbal degradation, the words stung Adrenia. She dusted her hands off on her
tunica
and didn’t speak.

Cordia’s smile came thick with secret insinuation. “My father sent an invitation to Terentius, but the centurion’s duties keep him away for present. But I’m not worried. Once he sees me again, I think he will succumb to an alliance. He’s so masculine I imagine he’s hung like a horse. Tell me, Adrenia, is he big?”

While Cordia always had an uninhibited attitude, Adrenia hadn’t heard this much tripe issuing from the girl’s mouth before. She didn’t know whether Cordia had experienced a lover’s touch before, but it wasn’t impossible. Hanging on to her temper by thread, Adrenia stared the woman straight in the eye. “Actually, no. I think you’ll be disappointed in the marriage bed because he’s pitifully small. But I think with your dry cunny you probably wouldn’t notice.”

“You bitch,” Cordia whispered the words like a hiss. “You plan to put a spell on our marriage, don’t you?”

“I don’t know any spells, Cordia. You can have Terentius and good riddance.”

Cordia’s hand flashed out and the impact against Adrenia’s cheek sent her staggering. Adrenia stared at Cordia, astonished by the brutality. She almost charged the other girl and brought her to the ground. Instead, she kept her dignity and control. Her chest heaved up and down with each hard breath.

“You know, Cordia, I think one day you and I will have a severe disagreement.”

Adrenia turned and left, half expecting a dagger in the back or for Cordia to hurl invectives her way. Adrenia felt Cordia’s hateful gaze on her back and knew the young woman planned something more tormenting and hateful. How Adrenia knew she couldn’t say, but she felt it with a certainty as rough and strong as a storm wind.

“There are people demanding to see someone in charge of policing the city.” The young soldier standing at Terentius’s door stood a head shorter than Terentius. The soldier’s wide blue eyes held sharp intelligence, even if he looked scared shitless. He couldn’t be more than seventeen. “There are twenty of them from the village, sir. I could send them away, if you like.”

“What do they want?”

“They say it’s urgent business about a family that lives on a farmstead at the Cordus Villa.”

Caution and alarm warred for supremacy inside Terentius. “Did they mention the family name?”

“Brigomalla, I think it was.”