Rescued by the Celtic Warrior (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 1) (2 page)

“Shackled to a ship?” She stopped mid stride. “He’s a slave?”

Father waved his hand dismissively. “Why worry yourself with this nonsense? Once he appears before the magistrate, the man will hang. ʼTis a pity indeed. Rome can always use a back as strong as his, but a deserter has no place in the Empire.”

****

Perched upon a vanity stool, Valeria stared dreamily into the looking glass. “Did you see his eyes?”

“No. The only thing I saw was a roustabout receiving what he deserved.”

Valeria knit her brows. She’d thought her servant, born into slavery, might have been a tad more sympathetic toward another slave. But Pia was fiercely loyal to the Fullofaudes family. Like a second mother, she had supported Valeria through the miserable death of her mother and the trudging journey to Vindolanda.

“It bothers me. Those eyes were so young, but the pain in them reflected endless agony.” Since settling into her chamber, every time she blinked, Valeria saw the Pict. Her mind’s eye had noticed everything about him. His size combined with his tattoos made him appear dangerous, rugged. Yet his eyes stopped her breath. They told a tale of pain and something else she couldn’t quite put a finger on—something proud, almost regal.

“How could you ascertain anything in the fleeting moment you saw him?” Pia yanked a comb through Valeria’s unruly hair. “Sit still or you won’t be ready for supper and you’ll spend the night with nothing in your belly.”

“I don’t think Papa would be that heartless, at least not on my first day.” Valeria sighed while she watched Pia twist her black tresses into a work of art.
I will stop thinking about the Pict this instant.

Using the hand mirror, she inspected the chamber behind her. She’d napped on a large bed shrouded by rose-colored silk curtains. Imported from the East, they would have cost her father a small fortune. The orange shutters on her window were parted and a sliver of light illuminated her wooden trunk fastened with brass buckles. The chest contained her worldly possessions, keepsakes that had mostly belonged to her mother. Even the looking glass she held in her hand had been her mother’s.

Pia pulled a braid woven with a blue silk ribbon around her crown, allowing the hair in the back to cascade down past her waist. Valeria nodded approvingly. “I have no idea how you do it. Every time you turn my wild mop of locks into a masterpiece.”

Pia chuckled. “I did the same for your mother.” She stood back and appraised Valeria’s hair. “I do believe you are even more beautiful, my dear.”

“You must be touched in the head if you think so. I remember watching Mama dress and admiring her beauty. I could never hope to be half as pretty.” Valeria placed the looking glass on the dressing table and stood. “Now please tie my sandals. I’m starving.”

Pia bent down as requested. Valeria preferred Pia above all others and only Pia had accompanied her on the journey from Rome.

A sharp rap at the door made Valeria’s gaze snap up. “Yes?”

“Your father sent me to fetch you for supper, my lady,” a voice resounded.

Valeria nodded and Pia opened the heavy oak door. A
legate
—a lieutenant, holding his helmet under his arm, stood with a serious frown stretched across sneering lips. “I am Quintus, protector of Rome and the Dux Britanniarum.” He held out his arm. “May I escort you to the dining hall?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Valeria glanced up at him as they walked through the cloisters. With narrow dun eyes, he wore his brown hair cropped short, which accented his inordinately large nose. He was not tall, but the short tunic of his uniform emphasized thick legs. “Do the officers follow the same fitness routines as the soldiers?”

He smirked, looking down the length of that nose. “Officers are required to practice swordsmanship daily. I believe I am more fit than any
common
soldier. I’ve always maintained the same fitness regimen whether Gaul, Egypt or Britannia.”

“Have you traveled widely, then?” Valeria wondered if his arrogance reflected indifference toward her. Since she didn’t find him pleasing to the eye, it might be best if he was indifferent.

“Some. I was born in Gaul where I received my training. I’ve been in the province of Britannia since Valentinian rose to power and my entire legion was dispatched to patrol the frontier.”

“Three years, is it?” Valeria asked, fully aware of the length of time her mother’s brother had been Emperor.

“Yes, my lady.”

Guards opened the double doors. Valeria gasped when they stepped into the great chamber filled with Roman officers. There was not a single woman. “My, it appears I am outnumbered.”

Quintus led her along the wall. Conversations lowered to whispers and heads turned in their direction. “I trust the men will enjoy your presence. Few officers have the pleasure of the company of a woman, especially one as pleasing to the eye as you.”

Valeria smiled and pulled her hand away. “Thank you for the escort, Lieutenant.”

The volume of conversation in the hall escalated again.

“My pleasure. It would be nice…ah.” Quintus shifted his weight between his feet.

“Yes?”

“Would I be able to escort you again?”

“If you wish.” Valeria found it odd he showed no emotion, not even a smile. He bowed his head and took his place with the others.

“Papa.” Valeria kissed her father’s temple and nodded a greeting toward Bishop Elusius.

“Ah, my dear. Sit, sit.” Father stood and pulled out her chair and Valeria gratefully slid into it. “You must tell me of your journey.”

“The best part is it’s over.” She leaned forward giving Elusius a wink. “The bishop lulled me to sleep with his lessons of piety and faithful living.”

“Is that so?” Argus turned to Elusius. “I hope you chided her for any inattentiveness.”

“She listened well. I only had to rap her across the knuckles a time or two.”

The doors from the kitchen opened with a waft of rosemary-roasted lamb. Servants poured into the hall with trays piled with meat, bread and vegetables.

Valeria sipped her grape juice as a proper Roman woman would, noticing the many sets of eyes that strayed in her direction. Her gaze darted across the hall as her insides roiled, wondering if someone in this room could be her intended. Father’s message had been clear it was time for her to wed.

“I’d like to visit Mia in the morning and take her riding as soon as possible.”

Father frowned. “You’ll need an escort—keep in mind it is not common for a Roman lady to ride, even sidesaddle.” He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “You must always stay south of Hadrian’s Wall. It marks the end of the Empire. Crossing it is forbidden for all Roman subjects unless under military order.”

“Can I not ride alone if I stay near Vindolanda?”

Her father’s silver curls jostled when he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Thieves lurk in every dark corner.”

“My, what a savage country we have come to.”

“That it is, my dear.” He turned to the bishop. “Elusius, what are your plans now you have safely delivered my daughter?”

“Once I have rested, Pontiff Damasus has decreed I construct a monastery in Pons Aelius.”

“Ah, an ideal location for the soldiers. I’ll see to it you have a century to accompany you—a contingent who can remain to help build.”

“That is very generous, indeed.”

Argus grinned and sipped from his silver goblet. “I trust my generosity will not go unnoticed by the Pope.”

“Of course. I’ll send him a missive advising of our good fortune.”

Valeria’s thoughts wandered to the Pict again—the mere memory of his powerful stature made her heart flutter. If only she could talk to him, she might understand why he’d fled. Surely life as an oarsman would not be as bad as life as a
barbarian
. Valeria leaned forward. “Bishop, we must pray over the prisoners before you leave.”

“Ah, yes, we must.”

Her father sat back and folded his arms. “The gaol is no place for a young lady.”

Bishop Elusius nodded. “I agree. Not to worry, she will be under my watchful eye at all times, my lord. ʼTis a good exercise in piety.”

Valeria restrained her smile as she chewed her rosemary herbed lamb. She would see the Pict again, at least one more time before he was led to the gallows.

“Valeria.” Her father’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. “Play your lyre for us. I’m sure the men will enjoy a bit of entertainment.”

He snapped his fingers and Pia appeared from the shadows with her harp. Given the overwhelmingly male company, Valeria would have preferred to hide under the table than perform. But she graciously acquiesced to her father’s wishes as he led the officers in applause. Moving to a stool on the dais, she blew on her palms to dry the perspiration.

Choosing a ballad learned from her mother, she stroked the strings of her lyre like the tumbling of a brook. The room fell silent.

To my love, gone for so long,

To him I sing this song.

My lips caress the air.

May the breeze take it there,

To him where,

He can hum along.

With her eyes closed, Valeria cast her nervousness aside and sang the simple tune three times, ending with a melodic strum. As she finished, she dared steal a glance at the crowd. A grey-haired officer stood and clapped his hands vigorously. Valeria scanned the long table as the men pushed back their chairs, stood and applauded.

Her father rose and kissed her hand.

Quintus joined them. “Would you care to take a stroll through the gardens?” He folded his arms, and tilted his head back as if protecting himself from a lash of her tongue.

Why had he asked? She was about to excuse herself as too tired when her father stepped in. “Please grant me that honor tonight, Quintus. However, Valeria needs an escort to exercise her horse on the morrow.”

“A woman? Ride a horse? What of her chariot?” Jaw dropping, Quintus didn’t hide his astonishment.

Valeria crossed her arms. “Pardon me, but I am quite skilled with my mount.”

Quintus’s eyes bulged like a codfish, but the Dux interjected. “Lieutenant, if you must know, I had the tanner fashion a sidesaddle like that of Goddess Luna for her ladyship. As a young girl, there was no keeping her from the horses, and her mother and I deemed a sidesaddle the best compromise. Valeria has become a horsewoman in her own right.”

Quintus frowned. “The lady could not be seen on the streets of Rome propped on a horse. It would be shameful.”

Argus pushed between them. “Quintus. Mind your station. Valeria rides where I allow it. You may escort her on the morrow, else I shall appoint another, less opinionated officer.”

Quintus took a step back, white lines forming around his lips. “Ah yes, a ride would be just the thing for us to become better acquainted.” His gaze traveled to Valeria’s breasts as he bowed. “On the morrow, then.” It slid to her hips. “Shall we ride after the midday meal?”

“Very well,” Valeria clipped. She would have preferred the bishop or anyone else to ride with her. She certainly didn’t care for Quintus’s pompous attitude or the way his pretentious eyes peered over his gargantuan nose and raked across her body. It made her feel as though she were chattel.

Cauldrons of fire lit the garden path as Valeria walked arm-in-arm with her father. Though she wore a cloak, she shivered against the chill. Papa seemed unaffected with his arms and legs exposed beneath his leather uniform.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

She pulled her cloak closed. “I’m all right. ʼTis much cooler here.”

“True, the damp can cut through to the bone. You’ll need a cloak of fur before winter comes, but the summer months are mostly agreeable.”

Valeria filled her nostrils with the crisp night air. “It smells clean—fresh, like it has just rained.”

“Generally speaking, it seems it has always recently rained.”

They came to the end of the cobbled path. Father led her up the steps to the fortress lookout. The fort battlements were made of stone with uniform notched crenels for archers. She peered through a gap. Light flickered on the horizon.

Father pointed. “ʼTis Houseteads, one of the milecastles on the wall.”

“Oh my, I didn’t realize we were so close.”

His chest filled with pride. “We’ve a fort every mile. Nothing can penetrate Roman walls.”

Against the moonlit sky, she made out the outline of the wall that stretched into oblivion. Even out here on the frontier of the Empire, colossal Roman architecture took her breath away. “You must take me to see them all.”

“I will in time.” He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “And how are you settling in? Are you happy with your quarters?”

“My chamber is comfortable. I think I shall like it here.”

Father turned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, inhaling a deep breath through his nostrils. “I brought you out here to talk about you.”