Celtic Maid (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 2) (12 page)

But Hades’s fire, Elspeth lied to me about her family. What else has she lied about? Why did she come to me if her brother was alive?
His gut roiled.
The woman deceived me.
Titus glowered across the room. There she stood looking like a miserable urchin in her ragged blue dress. Even through his anger and confusion, his heart immediately went to her. But then he glanced at Dulcitius.

Titus couldn’t have looked more a fool if Dulcitius had plotted against him. And like it or not, it was Elspeth’s fault.
Why couldn’t she just have told me she had a brother? Has she been plotting against me this entire time? Is that the reason for the flash of defiance I’ve oft seen in her eyes? Or is she telling the truth? If I had enough information to defend her, she wouldn’t be punished, and I wouldn’t look like such a fool. By Zeus’s lightning, she brought this upon herself. And I allowed it, so entranced I was by her damnable jasmine scent.

Titus’s fists slid from his hips. Tilting his head back, he held Elspeth’s gaze. “Yes, sir,” he said without glancing at the count. “Elspeth will be tried and if found guilty, she will receive the same treatment as any subject who commits treason.” Titus still couldn’t bring himself to say she would be burned. His jaw twitched, still unable to believe that right under his nose the vixen had caught him in her web and tricked him.

And Dulcitius was reveling in his victory, the smug bastard. Oh how he enjoyed making Titus the fool in front of the count.

He nodded at the guards and they tugged her toward the door. “M’lord Titus! Ye cannot believe them.” She wrenched her elbows away from the guards and faced him her hands reaching out to him. “Who saved yer men at Rudchester? ’Twas me arrows.”

Titus stepped forward, but Dulcitius cut him off. “Take her away.”

When the doors slammed closed, blocking Elspeth retreating with the guards, Theodosius folded his arms. “You must act quickly or this will be seen as weakness by the men. There is no place for women within our fortress walls.” He shook his head. “You have disappointed me.”

Titus gave him a thin-lipped nod.
Why did she help us at Rudchester?
Caesar’s bones, he rued the day they’d met.

Dulcitius cleared his throat. “If I am no longer needed here…” The man’s damned voice was far too chipper.

“We shall march south on the morrow. Matters in York will not wait while we idle away our time in the north,” Theodosius said, turning to Titus. “Show the men your muscle, and they shall respect you for it. I trust all skirmishes will be dealt with quickly with a firm hand.”

Titus bowed, still numb and angered by Elspeth’s ruse. “Absolutely, sir.”

“I will still expect your weekly missives.”

Titus nodded, and Theodosius moved toward the door. Placing his hand on the lever, he turned. “Ensure your first missive gives details of the woman’s execution.”

“Yes, sir.” Titus stood motionless until the door closed behind him.
Elspeth a spy?
How could I have been played for such a damned fool?

Chapter Eight

Elspeth crouched in the corner of her cell. She had been wallowing in the dank dungeon for three days, and Titus had not made any effort to see her. The guard gave her no sympathy—told her she would have a trial, merely a formality before they tied her to a stake and set fire to timbers below her feet.

Carved out beneath the fort, the gaol had a damp earthen floor, and water trickled a pathway down the walls through green slime. The two gaps near the ceiling cast slivers of light along each wall. Iron bars separated tiny cells, sixteen of them, with an aisle down the center. Elspeth was the only inmate, aside from a family of rats that occupied the cell on the far end.

She hugged herself and rocked, her chest as hollow as the dungeon itself. She’d heard tales of the Vindolanda gaol. Her own brother had been interned there with King Taran when they had tried to escape the tyranny of the Roman Navy. After the uprising, Queen Valeria and Bishop Elusius had also spent time behind its bars as
guests
of the tyrant Morgon. Valeria was nearly killed when Greum set fire to it, unaware of her presence. Taran had Morgon killed for deceiving the king. Morgon had falsely testified that Queen Valeria had died of exposure.

Elspeth gazed at the ray of light beaming through the gap. No Pict had died as a result of their internment at Vindolanda, and that thought gave her renewed strength. But still, she shuddered when she recalled the flat, condemning tenor of Titus’s voice when he pronounced her punishment. She would not forget the abhorrence in his eyes when he learned she had betrayed him.

Elspeth knew better than to permit herself feelings for the centurion. She hated herself for allowing him to touch her heart, and now he would be the one to ignite the fire that would send her to the underworld. At least she would be done with spying. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She trembled. The thought of dying did not bother her so much, but burning did. She’d hardly slept for nightmares of fire singeing away her flesh. It had to be the most painful death imaginable. She’d been burned once—stepped in a pit of coals and scorched the bottom of her foot. It had felt like someone had peeled off her skin, or as if a million stinging nettles pierced through one small space.

Elspeth stared at the cavernous opening to the winding stairs. If Titus descended them, she would plead for death fitting a warrior. That would be her only request.

****

After the count made his departure with Dulcitius, Titus carried out his duties like Poseidon wielding his trident. He spent a few days inspecting the repairs at Vindolanda and the nearby milecastle of Houseteads. He grumbled orders, pointing his discipline stick at sloppy work or jabbing it at inept soldiers who would be unable to neither pound a nail nor lay a stone even if they had trained for months. His men needed to realize the campaign to regain the wall was over. They were now a frontier army, employed to rebuild and defend the northern border, and that was where they would stay until they had served their mandatory twenty-five years—or they died, whichever came first.

He’d received a report of a skirmish at Stanwix to the east. He hadn’t time to visit the fort, but word was that it was a small uprising of vandals and the local
decanus
had dealt with it swiftly.

Titus’s armor weighed heavily upon his shoulders when he returned to the
principia
that afternoon. Bacchus stepped out onto the portico while Titus climbed the steps. “A woman awaits within.”

“A woman? I am finished with women.” He groaned. “Can you not put her feeble mind at ease and send her on her way?”

Bacchus leaned in with a wide-eyed expression. “She demanded an audience with you, sir. I think this is one woman with whom you will want to speak.”

Titus stopped before the door, planting his fists on his hips. “Who is it? The queen of the Angles, travel here from Londontown?”

Bacchus scratched his chin. “No, ’tis Valeria Fullofaudes, daughter of the murdered
Dux Britanniarum
.”

Titus blinked twice and then barreled ahead. “Hercules be damned, why did you not say so in the first place?”

Bacchus had no time to reply.

The tiny woman with raven’s hair stood when Titus bounded into his office. She held out her palm. “Centurion, ’tis good to make your acquaintance.”

Titus bowed and gently kissed the offered hand. “My lady. This is quite the surprise. All of Rome thought you dead.”

Her dark eyes watched him with practiced aloofness. “Mine is quite a story.”

Titus gestured toward a chair, assessing her lavender silk
peplos
. It was a fine gown of a Roman noblewoman, and he wondered how she had kept it so pristine after all this time. He glimpsed a reddened scar on her neck, partially covered by her shoulder-length black curls—short for a woman of her stature. “Please do share your tale. There are many unanswered questions about the conspiracy. Where have you been all this time, my lady?”

A soft chuckle slipped past her lips. “Let us take one thing at a time, shall we?” She looked up at the ceiling as if to collect her thoughts while Titus reclined in his chair. “My life changed forever that night. ’Twas the Attacotti who attacked Vindolanda and murdered my father.”

“Attacotti? That’s a tribe to the extreme north, yes?”

She nodded. “They are unkempt brutes who eat the hearts of men. They live in the rugged hills and are sworn enemies with the Picts and Gales.”

“They sound like the spawn of Hades. But what happened to you?”

“The Attacotti spirited me away with intent to sell me into slavery, but I was rescued by the Picts.”

“Picts?” Titus scratched his chin. “I understand they’re the most barbaric tribe in all of Britannia.”

Valeria folded her arms. “Fearsome is a better choice of words.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Elspeth is a Pict.”

A hundred icy pricks tickled the back of his neck. “The traitorous spy?”
How on earth does this Roman noblewoman know Elspeth?
“Is that why you are here? I thought surely you would be seeking safe passage to Rome.”

“Elspeth is one reason for my visit, but I shall remain in Britannia.” She cleared her throat, folding her hands in her lap. “Word from Elspeth is that you are a respectable leader with empathy for your legionaries.”

“Oh?” Titus crossed his arms. “And what else did that woman share with you?”

Lady Valeria smoothed her fingers over her gown as if she had a thousand things to say and was being careful about what to reveal. “’Tis my husband’s fault she was here. He wanted to insure you would not invade Pict lands.”

“Invade? You know as well as I that Hadrian built the wall to mark the end of the Empire.”

“Yes, and then Rome breached that edict by pushing out to the Antonine Wall, which fell to the Picts. Roman centuries have always traveled into the wild seeking slaves to row their warships and to build their bridges. The Picts will have none of it. The land beyond the wall is theirs by birthright. All they ask is to be left in peace.” The lady was not only beautiful she was shrewd.

“And is that your second reason for visiting? To warn me away from Pict lands?”

“I should like to suggest the signing of an agreement between Romans and Picts.”

Titus chuckled. “My lady, as the daughter of the former
Dux Britanniarum
, I would assume you are aware Rome negotiates with no one.”

She held up a fine-boned palm. “Hear me before you so easily cast aside a treaty that will save lives on both sides of the border.”

Titus rolled his hand, signifying for her to continue.

“The Picts simply want to be left alone. They propose they sign a treaty with you stating they will not attack the wall providing that Romans do not breach Pict lands.”

“And why have they sent you, a woman, to speak on their behalf?” He puzzled. “You said you were married. Where is your husband and why has he not approached me regarding this?”

“My husband is a local land owner, and we agreed that you would not be as apt to listen to him as you would me. After all, ’twas not so long ago I slept in the commander’s house adjoining this very
principia
—your house now.”

Titus scratched his chin. Surely a treaty with the Picts would eliminate one savage tribe from his list of marauders—tribes who threatened the peace he sought for Britannia. “What of the Gales, the Saxons and the Attacotti you spoke of?”

“I can only speak on behalf of the Picts. The other tribes war with us as much as they do the Romans.”

“Us?”

Her gaze darted aside. “Excuse me. I misspoke.”

Valeria sat erect, as proper as any noble Roman woman he had ever encountered. Yet, something seemed amiss. She had chosen her words carefully and definitely appeared guarded. How had she come to survive all this time since the wall was breached? It appeared she had not only survived, she had prospered. Titus considered her offer and wondered if he could wager the same with the other warring tribes.
Could this be the start of my vision for peace?

Valeria interrupted his thoughts. “Of course, there must be one thing settled before the Picts can enter into an agreement.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You are looking to negotiate?”

“The lady, Elspeth, must be released to us.”

Titus’s gut squelched. He knew this was not possible. “I’m afraid the woman committed treason against Rome.”

Lady Valeria stare became icy. “How can she commit treason if she is not a Roman subject?”

“She is a spy. She misled me into believing that she was helpless and abandoned.”

“Surely, after she killed the Saxons at Rudchester, you realized that Elspeth was not helpless.”

He shifted in his seat. “She betrayed me.”

The lady leaned forward with her chin held high. “She followed orders to ensure Pict lands were safe. That was her only objective.”

Titus slammed his fist on the table. “She must be tried and burned. No one enters a Roman garrison under false pretenses and lives.” His gut clamped while his heart twisted into an agonizing knot. If only there was a way to spirit her back into the hands of her kin. But Elspeth had returned his affections whilst posing as a spy under his nose. How could she have used her feminine influence against him? How could he have allowed it?

Valeria’s eyes narrowed. “What if the Picts offered surreptitious services in return?” Titus made no comment, and she continued, “We could provide intelligence regarding those tribes that are enemies to us both.”

Titus wasn’t entirely opposed to her proposal, but a Roman woman appearing in the
principia
attempting to negotiate a truce in return for a prisoner’s release? It would be a long time before he could trust a woman again. “You keep referring to us. What are you not telling me, Lady Valeria?”

Her lips pursed into a bow. “My husband is a Pict. That is all I can say until you agree to an alliance.”

More secrets
.