Celtic Fire Part 11

She stopped at the edge of the fountain. Lucius came to a halt behind her, not touching, but so close she could smell the musk of the day's exertion on his skin. Warmth pooled low in her belly. He set one hand on her shoulder and an odd restlessness shot through her. Feigning nonchalance, she moved away, breaking the contact.

"The boy needs to attend his studies," Lucius said.

"He needs a father more. Especially since he has lost his mother." She sank down onto the stone bench and dabbled her fingertips in the water. A measure of the Great Mother's calm flowed into her, enough that she dared a look into Lucius's eyes.

She saw sorrow there, and regret, before his gaze shuttered. "Demetrius thought the journey north might turn Marcus's mind from his mother's death." He bent and picked up a pebble that had strayed from the path to nestle in the dirt. "He was very attached to her." He tossed the pebble from hand to hand, not meeting her gaze.

"Yet she lay with another man while you were at war. She died bearing his child."

He started. The pebble glanced off his arm and plunked into the pool, splattering water over the edge. "Marcus told you that?"

"No. He's far too innocent. He told me only that you'd been gone more than a year before the babe's birth."

"Another reason why I consented to bring Marcus to Britannia," Lucius said. "Rome is a city built as much of gossip and rumor as it is of stone. Sooner or later Marcus would have realized the truth. I would rather his memory of Julia be unsullied, at least while he is young."

"Even after she shamed you?"

Lucius shrugged. "I hadn't visited my wife's bed since before Marcus's birth and Jupiter knows I was not celibate all that time. I could hardly expect Julia to comport herself like a Vestal in a city where bed partners change more frequently than the weather." He met Rhiannon's gaze. "But I did expect her to use whatever means necessary to avoid bearing a b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Oh." She kept her eyes fixed on the surface of the pool. "Did you not love her?"

He was silent for a time. Rhiannon's breath grew shallow, though she tried to tell herself that his answer was of no matter to her.

"I loved her once," he replied finally. "Or thought I did. Long ago, when I was young and blind with l.u.s.t. Before I discovered she was a gilded box that didn't contain the treasure I'd hoped for." He shook his head, as if clearing the memory from his mind. "Julia was a good mother; I cannot fault her on that score. I know Marcus feels her loss."

"That's all the more reason for you to be gentle with him."

"And encourage his weakness?" Lucius replied. "No. I think not. He's better served by putting sentiment aside and applying his mind to Aristotle's logic. I fear for his future if he does not. Every day he grows more like ..."

"His mother?" Rhiannon ventured when Lucius fell silent.

"No," he replied sharply. "Not like Julia. Like Aulus. My brother. Marcus cares more for tales of fancy than for the world before his eyes. Like the story of a Celt woman who ate a bad child and birthed a beautiful one from his bones."

Rhiannon's eyes widened. "Marcus told you that story?"

Lucius snorted. "He babbled incessantly of it on the road."

"The story of the crone mother teaches that good is birthed from the bones of evil, even as day rises from night."

"Evil brings only more of the same," Lucius replied. "Marcus must learn that."

"He's yet a lad, and seeking his purpose. His sensitivity is a strength, not a failing. It will lead him to wisdom."

"Or to disaster. My brother's death proves it."

A vivid image of Aulus's death flashed through Rhiannon's mind. "How so?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Lucius drew his dagger and tested its edge with his thumb, an unconscious gesture that raised the hairs on Rhiannon's nape. "There's a man residing in this house. Tribune Vetus. Perhaps you have seen him?"

"The officer who frequents the baths?"

Lucius gave a short, mirthless laugh. "None other. I came north believing Vetus had murdered my brother." His fingers flexed on the dagger's hilt.

"Why would you think such a thing?"

Lucius swiped his blade into the air and then to the side in one sleek motion, fighting an unseen enemy. "Vetus penned the report of my brother's death. Aulus supposedly died while hunting for boar. A sport he abhorred. I suspected Tribune Vetus invented the story. I came north to discover why." He pressed the tip of his dagger to his thumb, piercing his flesh. A single drop of crimson blood welled from the cut and dropped to the earth.

Rhiannon sucked in a breath. Could it be that Lucius was unaware of the true circ.u.mstances surrounding his brother's death? But why would the tribune invent such a fiction? "What have you found out?" she asked. Her voice sounded strange to her ears.

"So far, little." Lucius resheathed his blade with a brutal motion and began to pace the gravel path. Stones crunched under his boots. "Aulus's bones lie in the fort cemetery, yet all witnesses to his death have conveniently disappeared. Vetus is an indolent fool. If he betrayed my brother, I have yet to discover his motive. But the fact remains that someone is lying." His dark eyes glittered. "If there is a man in this fort who knows the truth, I will find him."

And if the truth is known only by a woman? Rhiannon withdrew her finger from the pool and crossed her arms over her middle, feeling suddenly ill. Rhiannon withdrew her finger from the pool and crossed her arms over her middle, feeling suddenly ill.

He stopped pacing, pausing in front of Rhiannon's bench and meeting her gaze. "Justice will be served. When it is, I will leave this wretched island and return to Rome as a civilian. A seat in the Senate awaits me. I can no longer avoid the duty of occupying it." His expression softened. "I'll take you with me when I go, of course. I think I would enjoy showing you my homeland."

Rome. If the luxury of this house was any measure, the capital must hold wonders far beyond her dreams. Part of her longed to see such glory, but she knew such a thing would never come to pa.s.s. She refrained from saying as much to Lucius. It mattered little. If the luxury of this house was any measure, the capital must hold wonders far beyond her dreams. Part of her longed to see such glory, but she knew such a thing would never come to pa.s.s. She refrained from saying as much to Lucius. It mattered little.

She would soon be gone.

At midday, Rhiannon renewed her search for Cormac. Surely he'd returned from the fort village by now. She would corner him in the storeroom and hear a plan of escape from his thick lips, even if it meant the entire household believed they coupled between the shelves.

She found him outside the rear entrance to the kitchens, maneuvering a heavily laden cart. It was the first time Rhiannon had seen the door unbarred. She looked past her brother-in-law's stubby frame to the unfettered daylight beyond. Even the narrow alley between the house and the stables glowed with freedom.

"Have ye heard from Edmyg?" she asked, rescuing a delicate bundle of spring greens from his rough hands.

"Aye. He came to the village himself. I had words with him while Claudia fussed over a fisherman's morning catch." Cormac set his shoulders under a cask of cervesia cervesia and heaved it from the cart and into the kitchen. Bronwyn looked up from tending the oven fires and giggled. Claudia, an enormous Roman woman with strong beefy arms and swarthy skin, frowned at the girl. and heaved it from the cart and into the kitchen. Bronwyn looked up from tending the oven fires and giggled. Claudia, an enormous Roman woman with strong beefy arms and swarthy skin, frowned at the girl.

"And?" Rhiannon said, following her brother-in-law into the storeroom.

Cormac set the cask on the plank floor. "How fares yer leg?"

" 'Tis well enough. I'll be having no problem escaping, if that's what is worrying ye."

He didn't meet her gaze. "Ye'll nay be leaving just yet."

"Not leaving? I must!"

"Nay. Edmyg bids ye stay."

Rhiannon's mouth dropped open. "Stay?" Bronwyn entered the storeroom and made a great show of scooping a measure of beans from a bin. Rhiannon waited until the girl had returned to the kitchen, then said, "What madness are ye talking?"

Cormac straightened to his full height and peered up at her. "Edmyg is thinking to use yer capture to the clan's advantage."

"How so?"

He returned to the cart and laid his hands on a haunch of fresh venison. "He seeks to rally the chieftains for an attack on the fort, but Kynan-" He spit into the dirt. "Kynan cowers like a dog with his tail between his legs. He's afeared of the fort's new commander."

Rhiannon pitched her voice low. "As well he should be. But what has this to do with my escape?"

Cormac hefted the venison and waddled to the rear of the storeroom, well away from the heat of the ovens and the ears of the kitchen women. "The soldiers of Vindolanda are Gauls. Celts. They share one blood with the Brigantes, wors.h.i.+p Kernunnos as we do. If they can be persuaded to mutiny when the clans attack, the fort will fall faster than a house of twigs in a gale."

"Mutiny! They are soldiers of Rome, no matter their ancestry." She shook her head. "They would pay a grave price for such treachery."

Cormac grinned, showing a rotten gap in his yellowed teeth. "Every beast has its price. If the bait is set carefully, a meal will be had."

"What bait could ye have set to turn the garrison against Rome?"

He climbed onto a tottering stool and hung the meat on an iron hook. "Ye need not know. Ye've only to play yer part."

A knot of apprehension settled in Rhiannon's stomach. "Which is?"

Cormac hoisted himself onto a crate that afforded him the height of a warrior. He leaned back against the wall, folded his arms across his chest and regarded Rhiannon with a hard expression. For an instant, he looked so much like Niall and Edmyg that she almost forgot his deformed body.

"What am I to do?" she whispered.

"Has the Roman taken ye yet?"

"No! Nor will he!"

Cormac regarded her steadily. "He was in yer chamber last night."

Rhiannon's hands fisted in her skirt. "And what do ye know of that?"

"I'm a spy, dear sister. 'Tis my business to ken all that pa.s.ses in my domain." He leaned toward her, his thick lips curling upward. "Does the Roman's c.o.c.k thrust as deep as my dear brother's did?"

"Ye are a brute," Rhiannon said, furious. "I have nay lain with Lucius."

"Lucius, eh? So the Roman allows ye to call him by a name other than 'master' while ye spread yer legs, does he?"

Rhiannon clenched her fingers into a ball and swung. Cormac's stubby arm moved like a blur and caught her wrist.

"What lies have ye told Edmyg?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Only the truth," Cormac replied. "But dinna fret. Edmyg craves the t.i.tle of king. He'll nay be setting his queen aside, no matter who she lies with."

" 'Tis I who should be setting him aside! He sowed his seed in Glynis."

"Five years ye were wed to Niall and ye have no babe to show fer it. When Edmyg weds ye, he will plow a barren field. No one condemns him for seeking a son on a willing woman. Ye'll nay dare be refusing to join hands with him, I am thinking-he is Niall's heir and the only warrior fit to lead the Brigantes."

"There are other warriors," Rhiannon said tersely.

Cormac shook his head. "None who willna split the tribe in two. Would ye be repeating your grandmother's folly, la.s.s?"

" 'Tis not the same at all," Rhiannon countered. "Cartimandua spurned her king to satisfy her l.u.s.t. If I reject Edmyg, 'twill be his perfidy, not mine, that causes the rift."

Cormac spat. "The result will be the same. War among the clans rather than war against the Romans. The foreign dogs will emerge the victors without even having to unsheathe their swords."

Rhiannon bit her lip. Cormac was right. If she refused Edmyg, the Brigantes would never drive the Romans south.

"Listen well, la.s.s. There is little time to lose. The new commander has been in residence only a few days, but he's already begun to unravel my entire winter's work with his dawn drills and barracks inspections. If I'm to turn the garrison against Rome, we need to be rid of him. He'll nay be expecting a woman to best him."

The blood drained from Rhiannon's face. "What would ye have me do?"

"Distract him with yer body. Then, when I give ye the signal, lure him outside the fort gates for a tryst in the forest-alone. Once he is"-a leer twisted Cormac's lips-"bare-a.s.sed and pumping, Edmyg will take him."

Rhiannon stared at him, aghast. "I'm to lure Luc-the Roman to his death?"

"Aye, that's the short of it."

A wave of nausea buffeted her. "No. I will not."

Cormac's fleshy fingers closed on Rhiannon's wrist. "Ye will."

"I won't." She glared at him, her fury building. "I'm a healer, not a murderess."

His grip tightened until she thought her bones would snap. "Ye'll do as yer told, la.s.s."

She twisted her arm from his grasp. "Nay. Ye have no need of me to kill him. Ye may sneak into the Roman's room any night the fancy strikes ye." The thought made her ill.

"Aye, I could slip a knife betwixt his ribs-perhaps even escape with my life after. But Madog wants the man alive."

Alive. "For the circle," Rhiannon whispered. "For the circle," Rhiannon whispered.

"Aye. At the summer fires. With the Roman's blood offered in tribute to Kernunnos, we willna fail."

An image of Lucius's bloodied body sprawled in the Druid circle flashed before Rhiannon's eyes. Her gorge rose.

Cormac jumped down from his perch on the crate. "Even barring the Horned One's blessing, any fool can see that the fort will fall much quicker with the Roman gone-he's far more able than his predecessor. Ye must do yer part, Rhiannon. Think on the clansmen who will die if ye do not."

Rhiannon swallowed past the painful lump in her throat, not daring to answer.

Cormac's gaze narrowed. "So much concern ye have for an enemy. Yet ye've nay asked after yer own brother."

"Owein? What of him?"

Cormac waddled past her toward the door to the kitchen. Rhiannon overtook him with two quick strides and barred his path. "Is he ill?"

The dwarf halted and peered up at her. "Not ailing, exactly, as I heard tell."

Icy fingers squeezed Rhiannon's heart. "What then?"

"Edmyg has turned him out of the dun."

"Turned him out? For what cause?"