Beast of Caledonia (13 page)

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Authors: Kate Poole

BOOK: Beast of Caledonia
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“You are still awake, Sara. It was a tiring journey here.
Try to rest.”

“Are you tired? Do you really want to sleep now?”

Annachie chuckled softly. “Are you offering me another
choice?”

“If-if you are not too sleepy.”

“Hmm.” He paused as if thinking. “Nay, too tired.” He
settled himself more snugly in the blankets.

“Oh,” she said, the disappointment clear in her voice. “Good
night then.”

Annachie waited a few moments, to see what she would do. It
occurred to him that she was not used to having him joke with her. Their lives
had been so fraught with danger and cruelty since the time they were together
in Caledonia, there was little room for humor. He leaned up and kissed her
temple. “Sara, I was teasing you. If I was taking my last breath, I would still
want to make love to you.” Immediately, the inappropriateness of what he had
just said struck him—Sara had almost, in reality, taken her last breath.

His apology was cut off, however, when she poked him in the
ribs. “Stop teasing and do it then.” When he opened his mouth to laugh, she
stopped it by kissing him deeply. At the same time, she raised his tunic and
took his hardening flesh in her hand.

Annachie groaned. He bunched her skirt in his fist until he
was able to touch the bare skin of her thigh. He slid his hand higher and
higher, soon finding the tender center between her legs. Sara was already wet
for him. Keeping one hand on his shaft, she reached around him and stroked the
hard muscles of his back, down to the indentation at his waist and around to
his firm buttocks.

Sara felt his whole body stiffen. Then she remembered the
conversation she had overheard between him and Micah. She took her hands away
and pulled back to look at him. “That is why you feel you cannot go home, isn’t
it?”

His silence was all the confirmation she needed.

“Annachie, remember what you told Micah.”

“Aye, I remember what I said.”

“Then what is wrong?”

“I am ashamed.” He looked past her, not meeting her eyes.

“But you told Micah—”

“I know what I told Micah. But I am bigger and stronger than
he. And Septimius. I should have fought harder.”

“Annachie, how many men did it take to tie you up when
Septimius violated you?”

He nodded his head as if to acknowledge her point.
“Several,” he said.

“Then, yes, you could have fought off Septimius, but you
could not fight off several men at once. Annachie, you did nothing wrong.”

“But do I not disgust you?”

“Why, in the name of all the gods, would you disgust me? I
love you. Nothing is going to change that, I promise you. Now, can we get back
to what we were doing?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them
again, it was if a change had come over him. He smiled at her. At that moment,
Sara believed he would be able to get over the physical and emotional pain
Septimius had inflicted on him, enough that eventually, he would be ready to go
home.

She reached down again and grasped his shaft, squeezing it
as she had been doing before. His erection had dwindled during their talk of
Septimius, but now she could feel it harden and lengthen in her hand.

Annachie groaned again, deeper and longer this time, as his
fingers played in her wetness, bringing her close to the edge.

“Annachie, I cannot wait any longer.”

He pulled her on top of him and reached down between them,
positioning his hard rod at her entrance. “Neither can I,” he breathed. “Ride
me, Sara.”

She lowered herself onto him and he filled her, stealing her
breath. She began the rhythm, raising and lowering her body onto his as he rose
to meet her with each thrust. He caressed her hips, her thighs and her rounded
belly. The babe within her kicked as if in response to its father’s touch. Too
soon it was over and they cried out softly, remembering even in their passion
that Micah and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel, slept in the other rooms.

He turned onto his side, taking Sara with him, and they
slept.

Chapter Eleven

 

Sara opened her eyes the next morning to find a tiny version
of Jacob staring at her. “Well, good morning.”

His eyes widened as if he had not expected her to be able to
speak, and he squealed and ran toward his parents’ room. His mother stood in
the doorway and he ran into her legs, clasping them tightly.

Rachel lifted the child up and planted him on her hip. “Good
morning, Sara. This is David, who is, as I told you, the little terror. We
never lack for entertainment with him around.” The little boy grinned and planted
his head in the crook of Rachel’s neck.


Salve
, David, aren’t you a big boy?”

David giggled, but turned his face away from Sara. “He is at
that age, shy around people he does not know.”

“I understand.” Sara rested her hand on her belly.

“Soon you will understand many things about babies.”

By this time, Annachie was stirring. “Where is Jacob?”

“Oh, he left before sunup,” Rachel said. “That is when the
fish are most active, or so he tells me.”

“He should have awakened me to go with him.”

Rebekah was already cooking breakfast. “In due time,” she
said as she served them porridge. “Today you can rest.”

With breakfast over and cleared away, Rachel gave Sara water
to wash with, and one of her dresses and a shawl to cover her head. Sara was very
glad to be clean and out of the dirty black
stola
, and all that it
represented
.
She ignored the questioning looks of Rebekah and Rachel
when she threw the hated garment in the fire.

“I am very glad to have you both here,” Rebekah told them as
they all sat together to mend and sew.

Annachie had already begun work repairing the things on the
inside of Rebekah’s home. He and Rebekah thought it best to let some time pass
before he was seen outside; with his height and muscular build, he would surely
be noticed. Micah tagged along as his helper, fetching tools and handing
Annachie the supplies as he needed them.

Rebekah glanced back at her son. “I think Annachie will have
a good effect on him. I cannot imagine what he has gone through at the hands of
the Romans.”

Sara kept silent. Micah could tell his mother of Septimius’
abuse if and when he chose. Sara knew it was not her place to do so. Instead,
she nodded. “Annachie is a good man. I believe he already thinks of Micah as a
little brother. And we are both grateful to him. If not for him, we could not
have escaped.”

“How did you and Annachie meet? He has a strange accent.”

“He is a Pict. My father’s soldiers took him captive when we
lived in Caledonia.”

“Caledonia? Where is that?” Rachel asked.

“Far to the north and west, above the land of the Britons.
My father was Antoninus’ legate there for almost four years.” Sara smiled and
gave a short laugh.

“What is funny about that?” Rebekah asked.

“They were building a wall to keep the ‘savages’ out of
lower Britain. Annachie asked me once if the Romans ever stopped to think that
the wall also kept
them
out
his
land.”

Rebekah smiled. “Did the two of you travel back to Rome
together?” She must have seen the sorrow in Sara’s face, for she quickly added,
“Forgive me. It is none of my business.”

“No, Rebekah, it is your business. You have opened your home
to us, so you should know who it is you harbor.” At Rebekah’s puzzled
expression, Sara continued. “Annachie is an escaped gladiator. The same man who
held Micah as a slave owned the gladiators.” Sara knew she was not telling Rebekah
anything that Micah would not tell her himself. “I am…rather, I
was
a
Vestal Virgin. When it was discovered that I was with child, I was buried
alive.”

Rebekah and Rachel gasped in unison. Rebekah said, “They really
do that? I had heard rumors the Romans did that to their priestesses, but I
found it impossible to believe.”

“Hah,” Sara said, “believe it.”

“Oh, Sara, I am so sorry. The Romans, such barbarians. How
can they do that to people?”

Sara looked closely at Rebekah. “I am surprised that you, a
follower of the man they call Christ, can ask such a question, considering what
they did to him.”

“Yes, I had not thought of that,” Rebekah conceded.

“And they call Annachie’s people savages.”

“But surely, if they believe you to be dead, they won’t be
looking for you,” Rachel said.

“That is my hope. But they could still be looking for
Annachie. He was quite valuable to Septimius and I have to think he would do
whatever he could to capture Annachie and bring him back to Rome.” Not to
mention, she thought, the other purpose to which Septimius put Annachie.

Rebekah shook her head. “Perhaps he will give up and find
another man to use as fodder for the arena.”

“You are together now, that is all that matters, is it not?”
Rachel said.

“Yes, we are together for now. But there is always the risk
that Annachie or I or both of us will be recaptured, and we will not live to
see a new day.”

Rachel opened her mouth, as if to ask a question, then
quickly closed it.

“What is it, Rachel?”

“If I may ask…why were you separated?”

“I do not mind that you ask.” Sara took a deep breath, and
resumed her story. “Annachie saved me from an attack by a wild boar. He nursed
me back to health, but after that, I was very afraid of the dark. The forest was
so dark, you see, where I encountered the boar. My father kept Annachie chained
in the stable and I would go there when I couldn’t sleep or had a nightmare. I
had a lot of nightmares. He held me. He did not…we did not make love. I was
fifteen, and I wanted him, but I did not think he was interested in me that
way. I thought he was only being kind.

“Septimius came to visit us one day, looking for slaves to
bring back to Rome and sell. When he saw Annachie, he told my father the slave would
make a good gladiator. The morning Septimius left, my father found me sleeping
next to Annachie in the stable. Father thought the worst, of course.”

“Of course,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “How awful for
you.”

“More awful for Annachie than for me. My father gave him to
Septimius. Just gave him away. Father could have made a fortune from a warrior
such as Annachie.”

Sara shook her head. She had not been surprised by her
father’s vehement reaction, but she did wonder that he wouldn’t listen to her
explanation. She had always thought he trusted her and he treated her as if she
was older, more mature than her years. But finding her in the bed of a slave
must have been more than even he could tolerate.

“I watched until Septimius’ caravan was out of sight, then I
took a dagger—Annachie’s dagger—and slit my wrists.” She showed the women the
scars on her arms. “I did not want to live without him. My nurse found me
though before I bled to death. Father had me examined to be sure I was a
virgin. Then when we returned to Rome, he begged the emperor to allow me to
join the Vestals.”

Rebekah asked, “But why? If you were still a virgin, surely
he could have made a good marriage for you.”

“I told him that if he forced me to marry anyone, I would
keep trying to kill myself until one day, I succeeded.”

Rebekah moved to sit beside Sara. She slipped her arm around
Sara’s waist and hugged her close.

* * * * *

Before long, their lives fell into a routine. Annachie,
disguised with a loose, hooded cloak, would go out fishing with Jacob in the early
morning hours—before too many people were awake to wonder who the stranger was
and become curious—then tend to Rebekah’s house after they returned. This freed
Jacob to help his neighbors while keeping Annachie out of sight as much as
possible. He also helped Jacob with work he could not do by himself. Sara
assisted Rebekah and Rachel with the household chores. As often as she could,
she would play with David, getting used to the idea of being a mother.

They felt as safe as they could under the circumstances,
since Septimius’ men had already been there and the Romans, hopefully, did not
know Sara was no longer buried by the Colline Gate. Still, they were always
careful of who was around.

Rebekah had insisted that Annachie and Sara take her room
while she and Micah slept in the main part of the house. They had protested
until Rebekah told them of a special feature of the room.

“We Christians are also used to hiding from the Romans.”
Rebekah reached down and pressed a mechanism hidden in the wall. Sara heard a
click
,
and the bed sprang up a short distance from the floor. Rebekah lifted the bed
and smoothed aside some dirt. Sara watched as she knelt and pushed down on a
piece of one of the floorboards until she could slide it under the adjoining
plank. Then she hooked her fingers under the wood and lifted. A trap door rose,
revealing a hidden chamber. A short ladder led down into the darkness. “If
anyone comes looking for you, you can hide down here. Micah can go to Rachel’s
room—she and Jacob have a place just like this under their bed.”

Sara looked down and felt the bile rise in her throat. She
must have gone pale too because Rebekah said, “Oh, Sara, I am so sorry. I
forgot for a moment what you went through.”

Annachie slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her
close to him. “If we have need of it, I will be with you, you know that. I will
not let anything happen to you now, Sara, not when we are so close to
escaping.”

Sara nodded but could not speak. She silently prayed it
would not come to that.

As it turned out, they were not as close to escaping as they
had wished. Storms blew in off the Mediterranean with distressing regularity
and very few boats risked leaving port. Of the ones that did, Annachie refused
to consider them. He had seen the captains and the crews and knew that Sara
would be safer staying in Castrum Novum than with such disreputable looking
men, who spent most of their time in the taverns and brothels by the seaside.

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