Barbarian Bride (27 page)

Alex returned in due course with some cheese and bread which Klara had no stomach for.

“Nervous about crossing the sea?” Alex asked. “Me too. I couldn’t eat breakfast either although Lucius thought it would be a good idea for me to have something in my stomach I could vomit up later…”

“Alex!” Olivia’s shocked tone made Alex smile wickedly at Klara and give her a wink.

The door opened and Lucius stood there fresh from his visit to the dock the tang of the salt air still upon him. She didn’t need a ship ride to feel sea sick. His presence alone was enough to send her stomach into tumbles. Today was the day. Now he was here they would leave for the docks and she would have to tell them she wasn’t going with them.
Couldn’t
go.

“Come on, everyone! The boat won’t wait forever.” Lucius’ good humour filled up the room and bore everyone out the door on a tide of breathless laughter. Everyone except Klara. She closed the door to the room after one good look around first. It reminded her of the night they left Rome. She had been the last to leave that night too. Silently she followed Lucius and his family along the winding streets of Brundisium to the impressive port.

Dockside was buzzing with activity matching the mood of the little family. The creak of the ropes holding the ships to the dock, the cry of gulls competing for scraps of fish, the bawdy calls of sailors and fishermen going about their business would once have fascinated her but today they were muted, as if at the end of a long tunnel far, far beyond her reach. Blindly she trudged along behind Lucius her chest aching with unspoken words. Somehow she had to find the courage to say what needed to be said. The last few days had been so hard each time he’d carelessly dropped a kiss on top of her head, or squeezed her hand in passing. Casual gestures of affection. There had been no opportunity for more just as there had been no opportunity for meaningful talk. The continual presence of Olivia and Alex had seen to that. It was better that way. Had they been able to exchange their love properly she doubted she would have the courage to tell him goodbye now.

Lucius handed his mother and sister on to the boat, throwing their bags after them. The boat wasn’t much to look at but the captain had agreed to take them to landing in Dalmatia for a fair price. Lucius called it a ship although Klara thought it too small to be called anything other than a large boat. He held his hand out to her, one foot on the gunwale, one on the dock.

“Come, my love. Don’t be nervous. We’ll be there before you know it and on dry land again.”

“I’m not coming,” she said bluntly.

“What?” shock registered on his face as if she’d slapped him.

“I’m not coming,” she repeated stonily.

“Why not?” He asked, eyes narrowing. “If you have objection to the ship you really ought to have said so sooner.”

“It’s not the ship,” she said as a large lump of grief lodged in her throat. She swallowed hard to dislodge it, to no avail. “I’m bad luck. I’ve been bad luck since the day you met me. If I come with you, who knows what misfortune I’ll bring down upon you all? Maybe a storm at sea or…or a sea monster or—”

“A sea monster! What kind of craziness is this, Klara?” He stepped off the boat to stand before her, feet planted apart and his hands on his hips. “What exactly is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I’ve made my decision. If you hadn’t met me you’d still have your old life, your father would still be alive, and Bleda would still be alive. Your mother and sister would still be living safe in Rome. Don’t you see? I’m no good for you. Things can only get worse and they’re already bad enough.” She rushed through her speech, words she’d practised again and again. They hung in the air between them, dropping like stones into the sea.

He stood staring down at her with those sky-blue eyes and she knew he was beginning to see it her way. She picked up her bag which she’d dropped on the dock earlier and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll go now,” she said simply as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Surely he could hear the sound of her heart breaking over the clatter of the docks.

Unexpectedly he bent over, grabbed her around her waist and hoisted her unceremoniously over his shoulder before turning and leaping nimbly on to the ship. “Cast off, Captain. We are ready to go,” he cried.

“What are you doing? Put me down!” She pummelled his back ineffectually. It was as if he couldn’t feel the beat of her fists against his flesh. He carried her across the deck and placed on top of a bundled fishing net.

“Stay there until I tell you otherwise,” he said sternly one finger pointed in admonishment.

She did as he bid, the fierce expression on his face deterred her from any other action. He stalked off and settled his mother and sister. They stole glances at her but said not a word as they too did as they were instructed. When he was sure they were comfortable he returned, towering over her and blocking out the sun.

The ship rode the gentle swell and the deck moved up and down with a soothing sort of rhythm. Klara might have found it enjoyable except for the towering black cloud of anger passing for a man in front of her. Grabbing her wrist he pulled her roughly to her feet so they were pressed together, chest to chest. She gasped in surprise as she cannoned into hard muscle. He kissed her then, plundering her mouth, giving no quarter. So passionate was the kiss she tasted blood on her lip as they parted but whose blood was impossible for her to say. His hands splayed across her back holding her so firmly there was no chance for escape. Not that there was anywhere to escape to.

He studied her, his eyes almost as dark a blue as the surrounding sea. She could not break the gaze, compelled by some force linking them together beyond her will.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely. “It’s true I have sacrificed much to be with you. I have lost my trade. I have lost my father. What home I had in Rome is forever gone.” He pressed her closer so she would be left in no doubt of the intensity of his passion for her. “Let me tell you this Klara, Queen of the Hun, all these losses I can sustain. The one loss I cannot bear is to lose you. You are my reason for everything and we’ve come too far for you to run away now.”

“I’m not running away, I’m saving—”her words were lost as he kissed her again, this time with such tenderness the tears she had been stemming at bay tumbled down her face. He kissed them away.

“You are not going anywhere, not without me,” he said.

“But what about the price on your head? What kind of future can we have together with all this mess behind us?” Even now she could not believe happiness could so easily be hers, not after so much pain and loss.

“You silly girl!” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “We will deposit Mother and Alex wherever they want to go then we will find your father and avenge Bleda’s murder. Once we are done with that you and I will marry with your father’s permission and your tribe’s blessing.”

“Oh yes!” she cried finally succumbing to the love he offered; allowing herself to believe a future could be theirs.

“Nothing will ever part us again,” he said. “That is my promise to you, my love.”

THE END

While there is a wealth of information about the Ancient Romans, there is very little about the Ancient Hun. To this end I’ve had to build on what little accurate information is available and claim poetic license. Clearly Klara is not a Hun name, although the names of the other Hun characters are as historically accurate as I can manage.

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