Barbarian Bride (24 page)

***

Klara wasn’t sure how many days had passed since the fight. Her ribs ached. The Doctor kept feeding her milk of the poppy to make her sleep. Sleep, he said, was the best cure. Likely he was right but she itched to get back on her feet and find Lucius. What if he was married by now? The very thought caused her stomach to drop to her feet. Her shoulder wound was healing nicely and although it felt stiff the Doctor assured her it would return to normal with exercise. Her ribs would take longer to heal. That was alright as she didn’t have anywhere to go.

Lucius hadn’t been to see her. She figured his father had something to do with that. She needed a plan. They wouldn’t let her stay in the hospital forever. Sooner or later Sirom would ask her to leave or pay to continue to stay. While she had her winnings from her fight she didn’t want to give them to a man like Sirom. Light streamed in through a small window near the ceiling. For a brief time every day the afternoon sun became tangled in the window. She had come to anticipate the moment of golden light as the only source of distraction in her day.

Closing her eyes she drifted letting ideas flutter from one side of her mind to the other, not focusing on any particular one. None of them were any good. As she daydreamed about her future the door to the hospital room opened and she heard a female voice, a voice she recognised. Sitting up quickly caused her to grimace with pain. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sought for a glimpse of the speaker.

Alexandra was dressed in yellow, like a ray of sunshine herself. Klara smiled at the sight. There was only one person she could have come to see. Alex saw her and her face lit up with delight as she hurried across the room.

“Don’t get up!” Alex said as Klara tried to push herself off the bed. “You’re not well enough yet. Stay where you are.” Klara dropped gratefully back on the bed. Even this small effort cost her dearly. “I’ve come on behalf of Lucius, obviously,” Alex laughed and sat on a vacant bed opposite. “How are you, truly?”

“I’m healing. Not fast enough but I am getting stronger by the day. How is Lucius?” She asked cautiously, hungry for news of him, yet dreading what she might hear.

Alex shrugged. “How do you think he is? Sick with worry for you. Lonely. Dreading his marriage. We have that in common. I promised him I’d come and see you.”

Klara nodded, relieved to hear how miserable Lucius was and at the same time wishing she could relieve him of his pain. “I won’t be able to stay here much longer. I need somewhere to go.”

“Do you have money?”

Klara nodded.

“Then perhaps we could arrange to rent a room for you somewhere in an
insula
, an apartment building. You’ll hate it of course but it will give you shelter until we can work out a better plan.”

“You’re better at this than I am,” said Klara.

Alex brushed off the compliment with one elegant flick of her wrist. “Not at all. Do you think I’d be marrying that old buffoon if I was good at planning escapes? The apartment idea was Lucius’.”

Klara nodded slowly. “I can’t live here in Rome forever,” she said softly.

“I know.” Alex covered Klara’s hand with her own. The gentle gesture of comfort brought tears to her eyes. It had been so long since anyone had shown her any tenderness, there was simply no room for it in the world of the gladiator. “Don’t worry about that for now,” Alex continued. “Something will happen. Look at you! Who thought you’d be free so quickly?”

Her freedom hadn’t come fast enough for Klara. Every day had been a battle of will and discipline. At least she was the mistress of her own destiny now, unlike Alex. “When will you marry?” she asked, changing the subject from her own troubles.

Alex sighed and turned away slightly, her shoulders slumping. “After the next full moon. Now Father has Lucius where he wants him there is nothing stopping my marriage going ahead. I
have
to find a way to get out of it.” She turned back to Klara, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “I
can’t
marry him. I just can’t.”

It was Klara’s turn to offer comfort. She captured one of Alex’s hands in hers. “I know you don’t want to hear this but you will be surprised at what you can endure if you have to. Life with an old man as your husband cannot be as bad as having to fight and kill for the entertainment of others.”

Alex smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry. I am being silly. You’re completely right. Speaking of gladiatrices, the Emperor has decreed women are to be banned from fighting. Your bout was one of the last. No more will be allowed.”

“Shame he didn’t come to that decision months ago!”

Alex giggled. “At least no one can make you go back.” She stood up. “I must go. I’ve been here too long as it is. I shall tell Lucius you are well and your wounds are mending. I will send a slave with a message when an apartment is found.” She turned to go. “Don’t expect anything palatial!” She warned.

Klara laughed for the first time since her fight. “I grew up in a tent. As long as I have a roof over my head I’ll be happy.”

Alex turned and smiled, blowing her a kiss before disappearing through the door.

An apartment in one of Rome’s great
insulae
! Could she live in a crowded building with all those people? Perhaps for a little while. Klara was reluctant to leave Rome without Lucius however hopeless his situation appeared. To leave was to admit defeat and she hadn’t fought this hard for this long to lose now. She lay down on her bed and fell into a dreamless healing sleep.

***

“Did you see her? Is she alright?” Lucius ambushed on his sister the minute she walked through the door. He had spent forever pacing back and forth, worrying Alex may be caught or Klara’s condition was far dire than he imagined.

“Of course and yes. Give me a minute,” she said as she lifted her veil from her head. “There, that’s better.” She handed her veil to a slave and took her brother’s arm. “Come and we’ll talk. She’s agreed to the apartment although I think she’ll be miserable there.”

Lucius sighed, with both relief and resignation. “I know. I can’t find a way out of this mess yet and I cannot let her go.”

“It will come to no good, Lucius. Surely you know that.” Alex let go of his arm as they reached the atrium and chose a seat to perch on.

“It’s come to no good now! How much worse can it get, dear sister?” He remained standing, anxious to be out finding accommodation for Klara.

“At least your bride-to-be is pretty and young.”

Lucius laughed. “True but she is not the woman I love and nor am I the man she loves. All of us are trapped by our Father’s ambition I’m afraid. I must take my leave Alex.” He sketched a mocking bow.

“I wish I had something to throw at you,” Alex laughed. “Get gone and don’t come back until you’ve found somewhere for Klara to live.”

Lucius didn’t have to be asked twice.

***

Three days later a slave arrived at the hospital to speak with Klara. She had been anticipating the message and had already packed what few belongings she possessed. The slave waited for her in the corridor outside the Coliseum hospital doors. He stood in the shadows, the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face

“You have a message for me?” she asked. The slave turned and she caught a glimpse of his face. “Lucius!” she gasped.

“Shh, my love. I can’t risk anyone recognising me. Are you ready to leave? I’ll take you to your new home.”

She nodded, wanting to touch him, the air between them thrummed with longing. Taking a step back she spoke loudly in what she hoped was the right tone for speaking to a slave. “You may show me the way, slave.”

Lucius grinned and shook his head. “This way, my lady.”

Klara couldn’t stop smiling as she followed his broad back through the streets of Rome, away from the Coliseum. As soon as they reached her new abode she planned to grab hold of that man as if she’d never let go again. A bubble of happiness lodged somewhere near her heart and in that moment anything seemed possible. Even the stench of the narrow streets between the towering apartment buildings didn’t seem to bother her. Whatever may come, she had Lucius beside her right now.

Before long he stopped in front of a dark building crowded on both sides by shops selling pots and other household items. The front door was open and they stepped inside. Four flights of stairs followed, each leading to a landing. The first landing was well kept with a guard at the door. The second landing less so until upon reaching the fourth Klara understood she was lodged in the least desirable part of the building.

Lucius flung open the door to reveal one draughty room, light slipping through cracks in the roof. A flock of pigeons flew off in a startled cloud of feathers.

“I know it’s not much but no one will think to search for you here. I can visit without attracting attention and there are public baths around the corner.” Lucius shrugged a look of apology on his face.

She threw her arms around him. “It’s perfect. If I can have you here with me even for an hour then it’s perfect.”

He hugged her back fiercely releasing all the pent up longing between them. Lucius took her face in his hands and kissed her hard at first, then gentling with tenderness the kind she had never known before. She returned his kisses, her hands moulding the shape of his arms and tracing the lines of his chest. How she longed to feel his flesh upon hers! She couldn’t let walk away from here without knowing what it was to lay with him. What if something happened and she never saw him again? As if he read her mind Lucius pushed her bag of small belongings from her shoulder and fumbled at her waist to release her short sword.

Klara pulled his cloak away, letting it fall in a puddle on the floor. Frantically she pulled at his linen tunic, trying to tug it over his head. He helped her by swiftly pulling the offending garment off before resuming his task of disrobing her. Finally they stood together, flesh against flesh, caught in a golden bar of afternoon sunlight. She dissolved against him, all the months of pain, fear and chaos melting away at his touch. Her hands traced patterns on his skin, warm to the touch. In a moment of perfect stillness their eyes caught and held, the busy world around them vanished and the heavens shrank until there was only the two of them. His hands traced the newly healed scar on her shoulder before stopping at her bandaged ribs. She gave the briefest of nods understanding his hesitation.

Her heart beat a tattoo against her ribs as her breath came in short pants. As Lucius resumed his exploration of her body she thought she would explode with her need to have him inside her, to feel his heart beating against hers, feel his skin warming hers. His hands parted her legs and she gave a yell of pleasure as his tongue lapped between her thighs. Klara was lost to a swirl of colour and light as wave after wave of exquisite sensation overtook her senses. Her hands clutched at his shoulders in an effort to keep her grounded lest she take off for the stars.

Lucius broke the moment, sweeping her into his arms and pinning her against a wall, his lips hungry. She wrapped her legs about his waist and let him devour her completely. Returning his kisses with passion Klara wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling his manhood pressing urgently against her. He took her then, with one hot thrust. She gasped and threw back her head exposing the long white column of her neck. As he moved inside her a fierce emotion she could not name overtook her. Clinging to him, she gave herself up to the ancient rhythm until finally he cried out her name in ecstasy. Hot slick skin against skin in a frenzy of need, rising to a crescendo of mutual pleasure so loud it sent the pigeons wheeling in fright once more.

Klara’s heart pounded in her chest and her breath laboured as she clung to him, satiated and exhausted. He carried her to his discarded cloak and laid her gently down on the floor.

After they lay limbs entwined, panting gently. Klara drifted in a dream-like state, her body throbbing in time with her heartbeat. Next to her Lucius stirred and rolled on his back, one arm thrown above his head. She lay cradled in the other and he drew her closer until she was pressed against the length of him, their limbs entangled. Neither spoke. They lay together watching the sunlight trace a pathway along the wall through the western window, saying nothing as nothing needed to be said.

Finally Lucius rolled over and kissed her deeply. “I have to go. My father is expecting me to accompany him to a banquet tonight.” He stood and pulled Klara up with him. “All part of his great political strategy to fashion me in his own image.” His laugh was laced with bitterness as he tugged on his clothes.

“When will you be back?” she asked, noticing the chill in the air as the sun began to disappear below the horizon. Her ribs throbbed, she would pay for her early passion.

“Whenever I can.” He took her hands in his. “I know this isn’t ideal and I don’t have a plan. I wish I did. Just give me a little more time to work something out. Right now the important thing is you’re safe and free.” He released her hands and bent to retrieve his cloak which he donned with a swirl. “Stay off the streets at night, they can be dangerous. Eat at the restaurants and street stands. Don’t try to cook up here. Do you know how many of these places go up in smoke? Don’t open the door to anyone. The bath house is down the street to the right and…well…stay safe for me.” He kissed her gently. “I love you,” he whispered before he crossed to the door and was gone, his footsteps clattering down the stairs.

Klara stood in the middle of the room, bereft of his warmth, suddenly vulnerable and uncertain. The long night stretched ahead of her and she wondered at spending it alone with the pigeons. She was safe and somehow exposed all at once. Wandering to the window she looked out at Rome silhouetted against the sunset. What was to become of them, she wondered, as they blindly stumbled to their fate?

“You acquitted yourself well tonight, Lucius.” Decimus was in an unusually jovial mood as they walked home from the banquet. Lucius sighed. Another evening spent listening to dull conversation while twisted plots for power bubbled away beneath the pretentiousness. How his father got any enjoyment from these evenings was beyond his comprehension. He was not cut out to play the games these people delighted in. No matter how many times he tried to tell his father he was going to make a useless magistrate Decimus refused to listen.