Love's Blazing Ecstasy (27 page)

“I have to take my chances. There is someone there whom I love very much. I must find out if she still lives. I promised long ago that I would return for her and take her with me as my wife. May the gods will that I may do so.” His answer was filled with such passion that for an instant Meghan was struck with jealousy. Oh that she could find such devotion and love.

Far into the night Meghan and Valerian went over the scheme for his escape, working out the smallest details. If Ibu and Meghan were to be discovered aiding a prisoner, they would be flogged within an inch of their lives, so they had to be careful.  Valerian would never have wanted them to suffer for aiding him.

When at last their plans were finished, Meghan rose to leave.

“Wait,” Valerian called out softly, and taking her hand, gently kissed the palm. The touch of his li
ps made her tingle. Was this what love was all about? If so, then a part of her heart regretted that she had not shared her master’s bed. “Thank you, Meghan,” he breathed. Letting go of her hand, he strained his eyes to the darkness to watch her leave. “Be careful!” he called out to her as she walked away.

“I will,” she answered quietly. “May the goddess Rhiannon, the Great Queen, protect you until next rising of the sun.”

Valerian felt his heart beating faster within his breast. For the first time since his capture, he felt hopeful. He would see Wynne again, he felt certain. “In two days time I will be on my way,” he said beneath his breath.

The time passed slowly for Valerian as he awaited word from Meghan.
As if somehow they guessed that something was about to happen, the guards assigned to watch him seemed to hover about with eagle eyes. Valerian paced the prison tent like a caged animal. He had been given a length of chain double his height so that he could walk about the tent and take care of his personal needs. The guards would not allow any visitors. His meals consisted of gruel, which was slaves’ fare, watered down wine, and cheese.

By afternoon Valerian could stand the suspense no longer and yelled for one of his guards, a young soldier who had shown him a measure of compassion.

“Guard, I must see my slave Meghan at once.”

The young guard was used to taking orders and the tone of Valerian’s voice made him start. “I have my orders, centurion, that you are not to be allowed to see anyone.”

Valerian clenched his fists in anger. “And how am I supposed to settle my debts, tend to my properties, and make ready to die peacefully when I am not given the opportunity to even talk with my slave?” He pulled at his chains impatiently, causing the young soldier to draw back. Chained or not, the centurion was imposing.

“I’m sorry,” the soldier answered, regaining his composure, “but I have been so ordered.”

Valerian laughed bitterly. “Perhaps my dear tribune, Severus, does not want me to settle my life before I die. But I am still a Roman citizen and as such  demand my rights. He has not the power to steal from me.” He walked as close to the young soldier as the chain would allow, and reached out a pleading hand to him. “For the love of the gods, let me talk with the captain of your guards about this.”

The young guard hastily left, and after a few minutes was replaced with the captain, a short muscular gray-haired soldier whom Valerian knew was half Greek and half
Roman, a survivor of the campaigns in Gaul. He looked at Valerian with stern yet compassionate eyes and Valerian began to suspect that the man held no great love in his heart for the tribune.

“You demanded to see me, centurion?” he asked, surprising Valerian by the use of his title, which would seen be stripped from him.

“Yes, I want to make provisions for my female slave Meghan, and so far that has been difficult. I must see her. I would like her to bring me some writing supplies so that I might direct that she be well cared for upon my death.”

The
captain answered quickly.  “I have been ordered…..”

“I know about your orders1” Valerian snapped. “What I want to know is why I have been denied my right as a
Roman to see to my personal affairs. Were my father to hear of this treatment, I am sure that he would seek retribution for such actions.”

The captain of the guards smiled, and Valerian could see that his front teeth were missing. “I have heard of your father. He is, as I recall, a personal friend of General Cassius Quintus, is that not so?” Valerian nodded. “Perhaps I could relax your watch somewhat to permit you to see the girl. A man about to die deserves at least a kiss or two before he meets his fate.”

“Thank you.” Valerian returned the other man’s smile.

“And as to the girl, I would hate to see her in the hands of the tribune. He is a cruel man. I will help you there. I have a daughter about her age.” With that he left the tent and Valerian knew that the captain would be true to his word.

Even so he was surprised by how quickly Meghan appeared, holding on to the arm of the young guard, whose eyes swept over her with longing.  “Master!” She knelt at his feet, handing him the writing materials she’d brought. “Here is that which you have requested.”

With annoyance Valerian looked up to see the guard standing nearby, feasting his eyes on Meghan’s beauty. “Guard, can I not be left alone with my slave?”

The young guard eyed Meghan with suspicion, then shrugged  as if to say she did not appear to be strong enough to break the centurion’s chains, nor did her innocent eyes betray any cunning. He left the tent and Valerian could hear him say, “He may be going to die but tonight he is lucky. I don’t imagine I will ever get a chance to bed anyone quite so lovely as the centurion’s slave.”

As soon as he was out of ear-shot, Valerian grasped Meghan’s hands.  “Tell me what is happening.”

“Ibu has not been able to get the key. He has tried everything from drugging the guard’s wine to gambling with him, but to no avail. We both believe that the guard is suspicious, for he poured the wine on the ground, making it appear to be an accident. While they gambled, the guard kept the keys secured safely upon his person. Ibu says that perhaps he will have to resort to violence to obtain the keys.”

“No!” The word was a command. “That would endanger not only Ibu but also you, and that we must not risk. I’ll see to the keys myself.” Hastily he scrawled on the parchment, tearing it in half when he was finished. He gave one piece to Meghan.

“What is this, master?” she asked scanning the writing and wishing desperately that she could read.

“As soon as Burrus arrives back at camp, I want you to give this to him. It is to be sent by courier to my father in
Rome. It explains to him all that has happened here. I only hope that he can see as I do the danger Severus presents to the empire. And this,” he said, handing her the other piece, “entrusts you to Burrus in my absence or upon my death.”

“No, I want no other master but you…..”

Gently cupping her face with his hand, he looked into the depths of her jade eyes. “You should have no master at all, little one. You should be free. One day, if I survive all of this, I will see that you are. In the meantime, you could find no better guardian than my friend Burrus.”

She smiled up at him, tears trembling on her lashes. “If you trust him, then so shall I.”

Entering upon this tender scene, the guard coughed to announce his presence. “It is time for the girl to leave,” he said in an effort to be stern, though his trembling hands gave him away. The slave girl stirred something in him that made him nervous.

“Take care, Meghan,” Valerian whispered, conveying with his eyes that she was to risk no harm to herself for his sake. He thrust the piece of parchment into the young guard’s hands. “This is to be given to my good friend, the soldier Burrus, and to no other. Have you any word as to when he will arrive?”

“Your century will arrive by week’s end,” the guard answered. “We received a message today. “Severus is bringing his new concubine here to Eboracum.”

“New concubine? I do not envy the poor woman,” Valerian replied dryly. “Who is she?”

The guard lowered his voice as if telling a secret. “A Druid priestess, I hear, of great beauty. The rumor goes that Severus was going to have her killed, but one look at her face stayed his hand. He had best watch her, lest she enchant him or work some evil upon him.”

“I doubt that she would do such a thing,” Valeria responded, but he hoped otherwise. If anyone deserved evil dealt out to him it was the tribune.

“I have heard that she is prone to chanting and….”

“You have much to learn about the people of
Britain. I would be more concerned for her than for him for I pity anyone who is a prisoner of Severus Cicero Pautius.” As the guard turned to leave with Meghan, Valerian said, “You will see that Burrus gets that note?”

The guard nodded and Valerian felt in his heart that the young man would be true to his word. Valerian
’s eyes held Meghan’s as if asking her the same question, and her eyes assured him that the letter would reach his father.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Meghan stood in the shadows outside her tent, listening to the sounds of the night. Nervously she clutched at the small key stolen from the guard by Ibu
who had found a way to get the key. Playing on the guard’s love of boys, Ibu had hovered about him, pretending to seduce him, allowing him to touch him intimately while he fed the guard figs that were drugged with a strong sleeping potion.  With smiles and fluttering eyes, he had lulled the man into complacency, and once he’d fallen into a drug-induced stupor, Ibu had snatched the key away. Hopefully he would be able to return it before it was missed and the guard regained his senses.

Looking up at the crescent moon shining overhead, Meghan suddenly felt calm. All would be well, the gods and goddesses would protect a man like Valerian. They had to.

Such a peaceful night, she mused, looking about her. She started to walk briskly, as if going for a stroll, glancing back now and again to be certain that she was not being followed. Though often her nervousness made her hands tremble, she was composed, as if, once the plan was under way the excitement became an antidote to fear—as if confidence took command.

The prisoner’s tent loomed up ahead, surrounded by shadows in the dim light of the partial moon. Two days had passed since her last meeting with Valerian. The black horse he loved so well had bags and sacks of provisions tied to his harness and Sloan was hidden in a clump of trees not far from the soldier’s camp.

Meghan slowed her pace, ducking behind a bush as she heard the sound of laughter behind her. No doubt it was a few of the soldiers at their drink. She crept along on hands and knees, scarcely noticing the scrapes and bruises in her concern for Valerian. When she was sure there was no one about, she stood up again and continued on her way.

Tonight Valerian was fortunate, for this was the one day when the guards indulged in their own desires, which meant that there would be fewer guards around the prisoners. Tonight these
Romans would celebrate the end of the campaigning season, a festival to the war god Mars. After Jupiter, Mars was the most important of the Roman deities, a symbol of the military might of the Roman Empire. Wine would be consumed heavily this night. If all went according to plan, Ibu would have been able to slip a sleeping drug into the wine of the guards, thus removing even the slightest risk of being caught at their task.

Meghan came to the first guard post and smiled as she heard the sound of loud snoring.  So, Ibu had been successful, she thought, taking a deep breath and walking toward the next post. Here the two guards were sprawled on the ground where they had fallen next to their drugged cups of wine. Meghan slipped quickly past them, gasping in alarm as one of the guards stirred, mumbled in his sleep, and clutched at her fleeing skirts. Looking back, she could see that his motion had been only a reflex action. The guard was again completely asleep. Holding tightly to the key, Meghan s
lipped into the tent.

Valerian knew that it was late. How late he had no way of determining for in the dark one hour dragged into another. He had been sleeping, falling into fitful dozes now and again.

As Meghan appeared his heart lurched. “So, you have made it. Good. have you the key?”

In answer she slipped it into his hand. Quickly Valerian worked at the locks that held him chained. When the task was done, he questioned Meghan as to how the key had been obtained, and gave a sigh of revulsion when she answered him.

“Poor Ibu.  He will have to avoid that guard at all costs.  When this is all over, if the gods will it and I am successful in my attempts to regain my
freedom and clear my name, I will make it up to him. He is more than a faithful slave, he is friend to me.”

Frantically she tugged at his arm. “We have to hurry, for I do not know how long it will be until the guards are roused from their stupor.”

“Let’s go, then,” he answered, taking the heavy dark cloak she offered him. When they were outside, he breathed in the cold, damp night air as if it were an elixir from the gods themselves, savoring it in great gulps.

Following close behind Meghan, Valerian ran until he heard Sloan nicker in greeting as he sensed his master’s presence. Meghan helped him gather up the supplies where she had hidden them nearby. Mounting the horse, Valerian felt a surge of strength come to him.