The Barbarian's Mistress (5 page)

BOOK: The Barbarian's Mistress
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Shortly before midday, Vali pulled the carrus off the main road and guided the horses up to a motley cluster of dwellings that looked to have tumbled down from the much larger town on the Albian hillside above them. The knot of buildings appeared to include
a
way station, but he had no interest in using its facilities. Instead, he pulled up under a tree, just beyond the dwellings, and told Lara to stay with the vehicle until he returned.

Handing her a small dagger, he glared at her. ‘Use this if anyone approaches. Don’t think twice; don’t try to be kind. Tell anyone who approaches to stay away, and if they don’t do as you say, use the dagger. I think you’re safe enough. We’re still close enough to Rome for civility. But you never know. See this as practise.’

She nodded silently, and took the dagger from him, her hands trembling so badly he was sure she’d drop the weapon. Before he second-guessed himself and took her with him, he strode off into the village. They needed supplies to get them through until tomorrow. What little they’d brought with them was insufficient for his huge appetite. The gladiator school had done that to him. They fed their fighters so they bulked up. More muscle meant less possible damage to internal organs from a blow. And it meant he was hungry most of the time. Some bread and cheese barely touched the sides.

He strode into the cluster of dwellings and saw a small marketplace
, which was in the process of packing up for the day. He scanned what was left for sale and selected a small, plucked goose, several loaves of crusty bread, a jug of wine, a wheel of pungent cheese, olives, a small jug of olive oil, and some sweet berries he thought might tempt Lara’s appetite.

As he prepared to pay for his items he appreciated his own foresight yesterday when he’d made a point of changing several of the gold aureii for the smaller denominations of denarii and sesterces in the forum. He knew places like this on their way would rarely see gold coins, and they would have attracted too much attention.

Amongst the day old fruit on display some thick skinned citrons caught his eye. He had seen these greenish yellow fruits before. One of his mistresses had used their juice to lighten her hair. What if they could improve Lara’s disguise by changing her appearance? If her mother was looking for her, then her distinctive, warm-brown hair would be a giveaway. But if she had much lighter brown hair, even reddish blonde, no one would match her to the missing girl’s description.

He added the citrons to his purchases, threw in a small bag of oats for the horses, and made his way hurriedly back to the carrus. By the time he got back to her, no more than half an hour had passed. But it probably felt like a lot longer to Lara
, as she sat feverishly scanning the terrain like a cornered rabbit. When she noticed him, she beamed with relieved delight. He half expected her to demand to know what took him so long. But of course, his little mistress would never do such a thing. Instead, she simply welcomed him back, and made much of his purchases.

When they stopped to rest and water the horses at another stream well off the road a short time later, the sun was beating down on them remorselessly. Lara’s face was burned red and perspiration ran in muddy tracks down her dust covered cheeks. She kept trying to push back wet tendrils of hair
, which had escaped the long braid that fell down her back.  Even though she was in obvious discomfort, she didn’t so much as whimper.

He made sure the carrus was out of the sun, unhitched the horses, and walked them down to the small stream. Here he let them drink just enough to meet their needs. Then he rubbed them down, and tethered them in a lush patch of grass in the shade.

In the meantime, without being asked, Lara had unloaded the horse blanket and what was left of the food they brought with them, and had laid them out in the most shaded place she could find.

‘Come on, let’s wash some of the road off us and cool off a little before we eat.’ He held out his hand to her, and she gratefully accepted his assistance to rise. She was in obvious pain from the seat of the carrus. If they’d been provided with a better standard of vehicle she would have handled the trip a little better. But they were stuck with what they had.

‘How would you feel about becoming a blonde?’ he asked as he helped her across the rounded pebbles to the water’s edge.

‘Why?
’ She didn’t look at him, as she dropped his hand and bent over to splash the cool, clean water over her burning face and arms.

‘More of a disguise. We’re not going to cover as much ground as I’d hoped. It’s going to take us maybe eight days, maybe more, to get to our destination. I’m rethinking the idea of you spending your nights in the open. If we bleach your hair, and take a room in an Inn as a couple, no one would recognise a description of you
, if your mother sent out scouts to find you. You’d be safer and more comfortable.’

She s
plashed more water on her face, before cupping her hands to drink thirstily.  ‘All right. How do I do that?’

‘I’ll show you after we eat. That’s why I bought those citrons. You can do it with wood ash and tallow. That’s what my people used on their beards, but it’s harsh on the hair. This is gentler.’

‘Do your people have beards? I can’t imagine you with a beard.’

‘Where I come from it is very cold most of the year round. Snow and ice cold. So you don’t bother with cutting your hair or your beard. It helps keep you warm. I was too young to grow a beard when I left home, but my hair was half way down my back. I wore two braids here and here,’ he indicated either side of his face.

Her curious expression as she tried to imagine it made him chuckle. ‘A different world, little mi… Lara. You would find it harsh and primitive. But we were happy. Everyone always laughed a lot. Not the cruel laughter of the Romans, in their comedies or with each other. But joy-of-life laughter.’

She smiled at him but said nothing. How could she understand a world so different to the one she had known all her sheltered life? With a heavy sigh, he led her back to the shaded blanket.

He couldn’t contain his ravenous hunger, and polished off what was left of the supplies they’d brought from Rome. Then he started on the bread and cheese he’d just bought. With a little encouragement, he managed to get Lara to eat half of the berries and some of the cheese.

‘Now we’re going to do your hair. I’m going to squeeze the juice from these citrons into the mug, add some water and then soak the full length with it. Then I want you to lay your hair in the sun to let it dry. Doing it now while the sun is still hot is probably the best idea. But we’ll put a wet cloth over your face. You’ve had more than enough sun on it for one day. Does it sting?’

She nodded and shrugged as she began to unbraid her beautiful hair. It was sacrilege to change its colour. But if it meant keeping her a little safer, and allowing her the comfort of an Inn, instead of the ground for her bed, then it would be worth it. It would grow out or fade.

Patting the citron juice into the long skeins from root to tip was one of the most sensual things he had ever done. She sat silently and still throughout, letting him do what he wanted with her, trusting him. By the time he had emptied the mug his hands were shaking. The desire to touch the perfection that was so close was almost more than he could stand. Getting her to lay on her back on the blanket, her hair strewn out above her in the sun while her body and face stayed in the shade, almost undid him.

Finally, he had her positioned just right, although the sun would continue to move, and her face would soon be unprotected. He dampened a new tunic he’d purchased for himself and laid it over her face.

The heat was making them both groggy. ‘Try to sleep, litt… Lara. We’ll get back on the road when it gets cooler.’

Her drowsy voice came from under the cloth. ‘Can we try sleeping under the stars tonight, Vali? I’ve never done it, and I think I’d enjoy it, no matter how hard the ground. I feel free out here. No walls, no roof. Nothing to keep me trapped.’

Her words surprised him. He wouldn’t have thought she needed to feel free. After all, she was not enslaved. But when he thought of her life, how bored and frustrated she’d been when he knew her, he started to understand. She had always answered to others. Her life had never been her own. Secluded, protected and yet abused by those who should have loved her, what kind of life was that?

‘If you like. Now sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.’

The sun was dipping toward the west when he finally woke her. To his great annoyance, he’d dropped off himself for an hour, coming to full wakefulness in a sudden start, unsure where he was, heart beating like a drum. When he looked around him, saw the horses and the chariot, saw the girl with her pale hair s
trewn across the warm grass, he relaxed. He was where he needed to be. Safe. Happy. Oddly content.

He didn’t give himself time to contemplate those emotions. Instead, he climbed to his feet quietly
, and went to fetch the horses. By the time he had them hitched up, he could wait no longer. Dropping to her side, letting his body shield her from the sun, he reached for the cloth on her face.

One step after another, allow no thoughts beyond your next step, allow no thoughts of your destination, allow no thoughts of the reason for your destination

Some mischievous spirit redirected his hand, and he found himself stroking the silky lengths of light, golden-brown hair. The hard callouses on his palms and fingers snagged the fine threads, so he kept his touch feather-soft, one tentative stroke after another, just as he would have stroked a nervy mare’s gleaming coat. The sharp tipped blades of grass that pierced the golden waves were a counterpoint to the sleek pleasure of those skeins against his skin. Pain and pleasure. Could there ever be one without the other for him again?

His touch must have been enough to wake her, because she drew the dried cloth downward until her face was revealed. Big, golden eyes stared up at him, still drowsy with sleep. They were the exact colour of her hair now.

He jerked back his hand, embarrassed to have been caught caressing her in such a way. She shouldn’t have felt his touch. She wasn’t supposed to know what she did to him.

‘That felt nice. Has my hair changed colour?’ Her words were slow and drugged, her lips curling up languidly at the edges. Vali fought his baser urges, focusing on her words instead of her ripe lips.

‘It’s lighter than I expected. Sit up and have a look for yourself.’

His words, delivered with stern force, were enough to break the insidious spell. Her eyes blinked rapidly, hurt reflected there, digging a dagger into his gut.
Better this way. Cruel to be kind. She belongs to another. Think of the reason for your destination!
No that wasn’t the way it worked for him. Don’t think
of the reason for your destination! One step after another…

He helped her to sit, catching her grimace of pain before she could hide it. She didn’t complain. Silently she drew her loose hair over her shoulder and stared at it in bemusement.

‘It doesn’t look like mine at all, does it? No one will recognise me now.’

‘Yes, it’s a good disguise. Now get up. It’s later than I’d planned. We’ve only got a few hours more of daylight. Do what you need to do in the bushes over there, and then let’s get going.’

It still embarrassed her to have him refer to bodily functions, even in an indirect way. So be it. It was time she experienced the baser aspects of life. Smothering her in luxury had never served. In the next week she would gain a crash course in how the other half lived.

 

‘Oh Gaius, I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Salvia said languidly, as she reclined on her couch as her handmaiden brushed her auburn hair in long, steady strokes.

‘I was told you want Anniana to accompany you to one of Titus’ orgies later in the week. You know how I feel about her going to the palace. Her innocence is her greatest value, and it can be taken too easily in a place like that.’

‘I’ll watch over my baby, don’t you fear. But it’s time Titus saw what I’ve been telling him about all these months. This will be a major political gain for you to have your daughter as empress of Pax Roma.’

‘And I’ve told you I have no interest in political gain anymore. Certainly not at Anniana’s expense.’

‘And I’ve told you that I don’t care what you want. If you don’t let that spoiled little girl of yours make the most strategic marriage possible, I’ll leave you and take her with me. You know I can do it. My father is only waiting for the word.’

Bibulus gritted his teeth and clenched his fists tightly at his side. ‘If Titus gets to taste the fruit first, he won’t buy it.’

‘Ah, now that’s the shrewd politician I married. Do not fear, I have no intention of letting him taste our ripe, little berry before he marries her. But he does need to see her again. It’s been many years, and she’s blossomed into quite a beauty in the last year.’

‘Titus is still occupied with establishing his power base against any threats. He has no time for marriage, especially not to someone who won’t increase his political power. He’s more likely to take her as his mistress, and then she’ll be worthless. Better to leave it for a while longer.’

Salvia studied him from beneath lowered lashes, a sweetly insincere smile playing on her rouged lips. ‘You have said that before. But Titus has stabilised his position. And he has no reason to make another politically motivated marriage. He needs a sweet titbit to refresh his jagged palate. And being my daughter, well that’s all the better. You know he lusted after me in his youth. Now he can lust after my youngest daughter in his maturity.’

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