Love's Blazing Ecstasy (36 page)

“Is that so…?”  Valerian wondered what kind of woman would allow herself to be possessed by such a man as Severus. He did not covet her, and he supposed she must be the kind of woman who used her body to win trinkets and favors. Still, it was cold in Britain and it would be pleasurable to have a woman to warm his bed. “Then we will see….”

“I will leave it up to you to decide whether or not you want to keep her. If she is not to your liking I will have her sent home with Severus and find you an
other to take her place. Let us say that it will be compensation for all the suffering you endured at the hands of that devious fool.”

“I will not be needing a concubine for long. I am soon to be a married man. My father did not want to wait much longer.” He chuckled. “My only hope is that my wife will not be too displeased with the weather here in
Britain. She is used to a warm climate and has been a sheltered young woman. And, I fear, a trifle spoiled.”

“All a woman needs is a firm hand. Let her spin and tend to your children. Her main function after all is to supervise the slaves and keep the home orderly. In return she will be rewarded by you with profound love and respect. I have been happily married for twenty-five years and speak from experience.”

Valerian looked at Cassius. He was an imposing figure of a man. No doubt he did rule his wife with a firm hand, but somehow Valerian wished he could have a more spirited woman, one like Wynne.

The metal of the general’s breastplate with its Medusa’s head, reflected the rays of the sun, which was at its
high point in the sky. They were nearly at their destination and would arrive ahead of schedule. He wondered if Severus would be there to greet them or if the tribune were on campaign somewhere massacring more defenseless Celts. Well that would soon be put to an end.

“It will be good to be on land again,” Cassius declared.  “And interesting to get a look at your new concubine.”

Valerian shrugged. He had only one desire—a hot bath and a good night’s sleep on a soft bed.  Alone. “Let Severus’ whore wait. I have no need for her charms this night.” Once more he gazed across the water.

Chapter Fifty-Five

The soft glow of moonlight illuminated Londinium as Valerian and Cassius walked down the ramp of the ship. Although it could not compare with
Rome’s glory, still it had a rustic beauty.

“I see that many of the buildings have been rebuilt since last I was here,” Cassius stated, his eyes sweeping over the horizons. “A great deal of the city was burned to the ground by the Iceni.”

Valerian scowled. “Another instance of ambition and stupidity where a Roman military leader was concerned. From what I have heard, Boadicea was treated very badly and her daughters raped by soldiers. It is no wonder that she rose against the legions of Rome.”

“A remarkable woman. She came close to driving us out of this land. It is too bad she poisoned herself in the face of defeat. Perhaps someday we will learn how to ally ourselves with such leaders instead of alienating them.”

“As long as we have commanders like Severus, that day is far off,” Valerian answered grimly. They walked along the docks as their belongings were unloaded and put on a wagon.

“The horses will be stabled her at the dock until we are ready to move out on campaign,” Cassius said, seeing Valerian’s eyes following his black stallion. “Except of course for my chariot horses. I hope that meets with your approval.”

Valerian nodded his head in assent. “I’m sure that Sloan will get the best care,” he replied, anxious to get to the villa, to bathe and get some rest.

As if sensing his thoughts, Cassius took his arm and led him to his finely wrought chariot. It was led by four matched brown geldings and was the pride and joy of
Cassius, who had driven it in the chariot races in the Coliseum.

“I was practically born in one of these,” the general laughed, taking the reins in his hands. He skillfully managed to avoid all the bumps as he drove the horses onward at a speed which rivaled the wind. Valerian was amused at the expressions of curiosity on the faces of the onlookers who ran out of the buildings to watch as they drove by. He must remember to tell Cassius about the war chariots he had seen driven by the Celts during his campaign. No doubt they would be difficult to beat in a race.

When they arrived at their destination, Valerian jumped down, his eyes searching out the tribune he had come to replace. He saw no sign of him.

“And where is tribune Severus?” Cassius asked, noting an absence of soldiers in the area.

“Perhaps he heard that we were arriving and decided to make good his escape,” Valerian answered dryly. In asking the household slaves, he found that Severus was indeed gone but on a campaign.

“Tonight the villa belongs to us.” Cassius laughed, relieved to be able to spend a quiet night without going through an unpleasant confrontation. He gazed around him. “Not bad. Smaller than those villas we are used to in
Rome, but comfortable.

“I only hope that Severus has plenty of food.” Valerian laughed. “After all this time at sea, I could eat a horse.” Seeking out the kitchen, he learned that the larders were well supplied with food and wine. Grabbing a bottle of wine, a cold breast of pheasant, and an apple, he sought out the softness of one of the couches and set about nourishing his tired body, heedless of the awed looks of the household slaves. These slaves soon had the household abuzz with the news: a new Roman would now be living at the Villa.

So it was that Wynne first heard the news that the man whose face had haunted her dreams for so long was finally within range of her wrath. 

Chapter Fifty-Six

The torchlight flickered against
the wall as Valerian relaxed in his bath. The warmth from the water soothed his aching muscles as he leaned back, nearly dozing, unaware of the wide blue eyes that watched him from the shadows.

Wynne clutched the dagger. It had not been difficult to procure it from a Celtic citizen of
Rome who sympathized with the slaves. It seemed to burn her hand like a live coal, goading her to take the life of the man she had once loved.

Just as my father was helpless when you murdered him, so are you helpless now
, she thought, justifying her actions.  Nevertheless her hands started to tremble. 
Remember your father.  You must do this for him so that he can go on to a new life without anger.

She took a step closer, allowing her a better look at her quarry and her heart ached as she regarded his cheekbones and fine chiseled nose. His thick dark curly hair was wet from the bath and she longed to touch it jut once before she must do this terrible deed.

I would have loved you until the day I died
, she whispered soundlessly.
I would have given you anything you asked for, even my heart…my very being…just to be by your side.  But that was not enough…
Her love had not been enough for Valerian, he had wanted much more. He had wanted power and now he had gotten it.

As if sensing a presence, Valerian opened his eyes and turned in her direction just as Wynne took a step backwards, returning to the shadows. In that moment she wanted to call out, to have him come to her, put his arms around her, love her as he had once in their forest cave. She wanted to kiss his mouth and give him  her forgiveness, but just then her eyes touched upon his garments lying several feet away from him, hanging on a peg.  And underneath his clothes was a sword, one just like the one he had used to kill her father.

“He killed your father, a man who had never done him any harm—a man who was helpless—who had trusted his overtures of peace,”
a voice whispered in her ear
.  “You must not forget.”

Her breathing was unsteady as she looked upon the weapon in her hand. So many nights she had thought of this moment, of seeing him again in the flesh, and now that moment was here. He was so close that she could almost hear him breathing. In three quick strides she could be upon him before he knew what had hit him; she could plunge the dagger in his neck and watch his life blood flow just as he must have watched her father’s blood as it spilled upon the ground.

But what if he turned around.  What if he saw her?  Could she do it then?  Would she have the courage? Softly she took a step forward. He was all alone, even if he turned around she could bury the dagger in his breast and no one would know it had been by her hand that he was slain.  As much as Severus hated him she would receive no punishment from him even if he guessed she had been the one to kill him.

“
Do it!  Do it now!”
the voice insisted, growing bolder as it fought with her conscience.

By the laws of my people it is my right to avenge my father. As his nearest of kin I may kill this murderer
, she thought over and over, agonized by the turmoil of emotions inside her head.  But what if he looked at her? What if he met her eye to eye, could she do it then?  As if he could read her thoughts, Valerian turned his head, looking towards the shadows where she was hidden from view. Unable to see her and feeling reassured that no one was near, he returned to the pleasures of his bath.

Wynne covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her sobs and as she did she could see a vision in her mind’s eye, a vision that moved in slow motion, only it was not Valerian’s heart that was wounded but her own.

The truth screamed at her. 
I love him still. I always will, no matter what he has done.
“Oh that I had died that day along with my father. It would have been better than to suffer this agony,” she whispered.  Her whole body was trembling violently. With a sob she let the dagger fall to the floor and ran from the room as quickly as her legs could carry her.

“Who’s there?” Valerian shouted, rising from his bath. For a moment he had feared Severus’ treachery. The tribune was not in Londinium, however, so it could not have been his eyes that he had seemed to feel burning hatred into the back of his head. Severus’ henchman, then, or perhaps his concubine, wondering what her new master would look like. With a scornful laugh he nestled again in the warmth of the water.

It was strange that he had not been greeted by the woman Severus bedded. It was an affront to the laws of hospitality. She should have met him at the door, fed him, helped him bathe, shown him to his sleeping quarters.

I will have to talk with her about her manners
, he thought with annoyance. She could learn a great deal from Meghan. At the thought of the young slave girl with the red-gold hair, Valerian let his mind wander. He wondered what Burrus had thought of Meghan. No doubt he had fallen madly in love with her by this time, which of course what part of his plan as well as to have him protect her.
Just as I fell in love with Wynne—lovely Wynne.
Like a ghost she haunted him and he supposed that it would always be that way. Tonight he had even felt her presence more than ever before and he wondered if that was because she had been reborn into another life as she believed.

“If only I had taken her with me that very first time we met. We could have been together forever. I know I could have convinced my father to let me marry her. Many a Roman has married with a Romanized Celt.  And even if my father had denied me my heart’s desire I would have married her anyway.” Leaning all the way back in the tub he submerged his head, trying to wash away his tormenting thoughts of what-might-have-been.
By the gods, I should have listened to my heart.

Rising from his bath, Valerian dried his body and dressed himself in a plain white toga. He walked barefoot
across the cold tile floor to seek out a bedchamber. How long had it been since he had slept with a woman? Not since Wynne had he done so, he realized. So long had he mourned but now his strong healthy body yearned for the softness of a woman in his arms.

“I will see this famous concubine of Severus’ first thing tomorrow,” he said beneath his breath. Finding a sleeping couch in one of the small rooms, he lay down on it, burying his body in the softness of the pillows. Soon he was fast asleep.

Long into the night Wynne tossed and turned. Vengeance was a two-edged sword, as they said. She had thought of nothing these past months except to avenge her father, and when she had the chance, she had wept like a little child and run from the room. She had not even had the courage to face Valerian, fearful of what she might do or say. Would she still be like soft clay in his hands, easily molded to his desires?

“Oh, that I had never met you!” she cried aloud, sitting up in bed and tossing a pillow to the ground in frustration. Yet had she not met him, she would not have known how sweet love could be, even when that love was not returned with a whole heart.

“I would be married to Edan by now, with a baby at my breast or tugging at my skirts, instead of crying my heart out.  If I had not met you, Roman.”  And yet she could not really regret those moments spent in the Roman’s arms.

One thing she knew for sure. She could not face him and did not want to see him again. She must hide away until he was gone. He could not stay in the villa forever. When he found out that Severus was not due back for quite some time, he would give up waiting. Until then she must blend with the shadows and keep out of sight lest her heart betray her.