A Noble Captive (13 page)

A pricking at the back of her neck warned her. She jumped back and his arms fell to his side just as the sound of approaching sandals reverberated throughout the courtyard. Helena
moved to the other side of the fountain and tried to compose her thoughts.

What next? Her stomach turned over at the thought of being discovered like that. She should feel more alarmed, but all she could think about was his kiss. She tucked a pin more firmly into her hair and avoided catching Tullio’s eye.

Androceles burst in the courtyard, closely followed by his son, the Lady Zenobia and various retainers. His lip curled as he saw who the other occupants of the courtyard were.

‘It appears the Roman takes the notion of guest quite literally.’

‘Helena and I were discussing temple procedure.’ Tullio gave an ironic bow. ‘I’m a student of religion and religious practices around the Mediterranean. Did you know that libation bowls differ from Spain to Antioch? In Dianium, they are shallower than in Ascalon. Why do you think that is?’

‘Libation bowls?’ Androceles’s mouth hung open and then shut, giving an impression of a fish. ‘Indeed. How fascinating.’

Helena’s stomach knotted when she thought how close she had come to being discovered. It must never happen again. To do so, would be to force her to choose. Her hand touched her amulet.

Was it Tullio’s intention to make her choose? Was that why he wore a smug expression? She tapped her fingers against the side of her gown.

She offered up a small prayer, then took a deep breath. She would never allow such a situation to arise again. She refused to be used like that, to have her own desires used against her. How like a Roman. His seduction would not work. Whatever else she did, she did not intend to become a traitor to her people.

‘Captain Androceles, to what do we owe the pleasure?’

‘We seek further interpretation of the Sibyl’s prophecy,’ the Lady Zenobia said.

‘An audience, if that is not too much trouble or disruption to the temple’s routine,’ Androceles added.

‘You should know the sibyl never explains anything.’ Helena crossed her arms. She was on firmer ground. She knew where she stood and the proper responses to counter this attack.

‘Always her prophecies have been clear, but this one…’ Androceles tapped the scroll against his teeth.

‘Prophecies are not something you can pick and choose, Captain. Prophecies simply are.’

‘Which means, Father,’ Kimon broke in, ‘she does not intend to explain. You are better off asking the wind than getting one of the temple to clarify. You have said this often enough to me.’

Helena started. She had not expected any help from Kimon. She thought he would make the same demands as his father. She gave a wary nod.

‘But I don’t understand this black mist and a thousand voices crying out,’ Zenobia whined, her face contorting to an ugly grimace. ‘Is this a bad or good omen for me? Is Lichas in danger?’

‘Which do you want it to be?’ Helena held out both her hands to Zenobia, palms upwards. ‘The sibyl only reports her visions. She cannot be held responsible for what you do with them.’

Zenobia sniffed—a loud and long sniff. ‘I should have known you would take Flavia’s part, Helena. This was not a good idea, Androceles. I thought so at the time. Flavia never gives anything away. She is worse than the oracle at Delphi.’

‘Personally I would take it as an omen that Rome will destroy those who attack the mainland,’ Tullio drawled. Helena could see the steely glint in his eyes.

‘The seafarers don’t attack the mainland,’ Helena retorted,
but she noticed Androceles’s slightly uneasy shifting. A shiver passed through her, chilling her to the core for a heartbeat. ‘The sibyl has cursed any who might.’

‘It is not what the scrolls say.’ Zenobia gave Androceles an uneasy glance and drew her skirt away from him. ‘There is not a word about Rome in here. And, well…Lichas has nothing to do with those raids. He promised me. He is too frightened of his sister’s power.’

Helena felt her mouth go dry. Tullio’s guess had some merit. She could see the looks that passed between Androceles, Zenobia and Kimon. Panic from Zenobia, unease from Androceles, but a positively smug expression from Kimon.

What exactly had the House of Androceles been involved in? What if they had begun raiding again? What then?

There were recent whispers in the taverns and among the village women that Androceles and his sons no longer took any notice of the sibyl and her injunction against raiding. They were confident that their donations of grain and other goods would protect them.

All in good time, Helena, was Aunt Flavia’s standard answer. Kybele will deal with any who cross her in her own time. Not ours.

She swallowed hard and avoided Tullio’s gaze. She had to do something, but not until she had proof. Not until Aunt Flavia had regained her health. Until then she had to hope that it was some ghastly misunderstanding. Her hands smoothed the folds of her gown.

‘Is there anything else you want, Captain?’

‘I wish to speak with you again about stationing some of my men here.’ Androceles dropped his voice and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Rumours of the temple staff being molested have reached me.’

‘Molested? In what way?’ Helena tilted her head, and looked up at the captain through her eyelashes. Someone in the temple was speaking to the seafarers. She needed to find out how much they knew. Or was it, like Tullio’s statement, a guess? She could not react. ‘Pray tell me.’

‘One hears things, Helena.’ Androceles bowed. ‘Perhaps it would be more appropriate if we spoke without the Roman being present.’

‘I think I should hear the accusations against me and my men.’ Tullio’s voice was quiet. He stepped so he was chest to chest with the seafarer, making the seafarer look small and insignificant. ‘Tell me what have we done to dishonour our word.’

‘You are Roman and Romans never keep their word.’ Androceles picked a piece of thread from the corner of his gold-shot purple cloak. ‘Many times, I have heard, the great dictator Sulla spoke out against me and my house, but he never objected to my money helping to fund his election campaigns. He was quite happy to trade with me and purchase my goods. Welcome profit was his motto.’

‘Sulla has been dead for these past three years, and little you say about the former dictator would surprise me. He did keep unsavoury friends. I would ask to be judged by a better standard than his.’

‘You were acquainted with the man?’

‘We were acquainted.’

Androceles sucked his teeth, but said nothing. The pirate captain was deliberately baiting Tullio, but to what purpose? She had to put an end to this.

‘Will that be all, Captain? There are rituals to prepare.’ Helena placed a hand on her hip. ‘I have already tarried here discussing libation bowls for far too long.’

‘Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye. Do give
our regards to your aunt. I wait to see if this prophecy proves correct. Black mists in the summer sunshine, indeed!’

With a flourish of cloaks and a stamping of sandals, the company departed. Helena turned towards the hospital and safety.

‘There was another reason for his visit.’ Tullio’s fingers caught her elbow, preventing her from moving. His face had a hard uncompromising look to it. ‘Androceles is playing a game. Surely you must see that he is playing the sibyl and the temple as fools.’

‘What would you have me do—declare for Rome?’

‘Yes.’

The single word fell from his lips and hung in the air between them. Helena’s heart shattered. She had thought him different from Kimon or Androceles, but in his own way he sought to control the temple through her.

‘That is what this is all about, isn’t it?’

His hand released her elbow. Helena thought she detected a slight paling of his features.

‘What are you saying, Helena? What precisely are you accusing me of?’

‘There are many unanswered questions, Tullio. But Androceles has proved a true friend for many years to this temple. He is a very powerful man. He has the interests of the temple in his heart. His offerings are always large.’

‘Androceles is only interested in one thing—himself.’

Helena pushed away the thoughts of the mouldy grain he had foisted on the temple the last time. She had to remember who Tullio was and what he represented. She had come close to forgetting that. She intended to keep it uppermost in her mind from now on.

‘You think to lecture me now on my allies?’

‘I merely seek to warn you.’

‘And he seeks to warn me about you and your intentions. Of the pair, who has proved a better friend to the temple? The seafarer who has brought much needed food and supplies? Or the Roman soldier who is being held here against his will?’

‘I believe you should ask your heart why you trusted me with your secret.’ His voice was low.

Helena spun around on her heel. ‘I panicked. I needed someone to speak to. I made a mistake.’

Tullio’s eyes glittered with some suppressed emotion, hard and uncompromising. ‘I suppose you intend to deny I rescued you. I saved your life, Helena.’

Helena wrapped her arms about her waist and bit her lip. She had made another mistake. She should have remembered her aunt’s maxim that Romans always require payment. She had thought his soft words were for her alone, but they were for the temple. Her only use to him was the temple. She had wanted to be a woman and he only needed the acolyte.

‘You have my gratitude, but you must understand the temple is greater than one person. I have other things to consider. We depend on the seafarers.’

‘Give Rome a chance to prove its worth to this sanctuary.’ His hand caught her elbow and turned her to him. The intent look in his eyes seemed to pierce her soul. She moved her arm and he released his hand, almost as if it had burnt him. ‘We can do much together.’

‘You ask too high a price.’

‘Very well, my lady, as long as we know who you can trust.’ Tullio gave a low bow and was gone.

Helena stared after him. She tried to tell herself that every
thing would go back to as it had been before, but even that thought did not make her heart lift.

Her only course was to ensure they were never alone again.

Since the encounter in the courtyard, Tullio had seen little of Helena. He tried to tell himself that he was not looking out for her, but he knew he was. He also knew he had allowed his temper to get the better of him. He had been so sure that she was close to declaring for Rome.

She had to see the danger Androceles posed. Danger not only to the temple but to herself. When the pirates discovered the deception, they were bound to react with fury. The only way she could save herself was to ally with Rome. Why did she refuse to see that?

By Jupiter’s thunderbolt, he had not saved her from Kybele’s lair for her to throw her life away so easily.

It rankled that, whenever he entered a courtyard, she departed without a word. He could not complain that the treatment of his men became worse. It was far better than he could have hoped for. But he missed Helena’s rippling laugh and her smile. Although the pirates did nothing, he felt it was the calm before the storm, waiting for Lichas’s ship to return.

With each passing day, more and more pirates found an excuse to be in the temple.

‘I fear a tempest is brewing, Livius Tullio,’ Quintus said three mornings after the courtyard’s encounter, when the air felt heavy and sticky. The oppressive heat reflected Tullio’s mood.

‘Tell me something useful. My tunic has been stuck to my back since I woke this morning.’

‘If it is a large storm, then perhaps we should take a chance and make a break for it. The islanders would be otherwise occupied and we could steal a boat…’

Tullio regarded the centurion with distaste. ‘We gave our word.’

‘A word given to a pirate or his priestess is not worth the breath you waste. Do you think they intend to keep their promises?’

‘What do you think will happen to this temple if we try to escape?’

Quintus shrugged. ‘It is not my concern.’

‘I thought you were sweet on that maid—Galla. You seem to spend a long time chatting about bread-making.’

‘My first duty is to Rome,’ Quintus blustered. ‘While you’ve been concentrating on the men, I’ve been discovering how the temple operates. Who really holds power…’

‘And have you found out anything useful?’

‘The temple revolves around your girlfriend, the sibyl’s assistant. She makes all the decisions. Lately she has broken with tradition and is not allowing anyone to have an audience with the sibyl.’

Tullio ground his teeth. Had his interest in Helena been that transparent? He thought he had been discreet. ‘I would hold my tongue if I were you, Quintus. You appear to be seeing ghosts where there are none.’

‘I was teasing you.’ The large soldier clapped his hand against Tullio’s shoulder. ‘I thought she had possibilities at first, what with you having to see her and all, but lately you have only been concerned with drilling the men. Helena is an attractive woman.’

‘There is nothing between us, Quintus,’ Tullio said a little more forcefully than necessary. ‘There never could be.’

‘If I were in your sandals, I’d pursue her.’ Quintus rocked backward, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

Belatedly, Tullio remembered the centurion’s reputation for practical jokes.

‘What did you really want to discuss with me?’

‘Our escape plan.’

‘We’re not escaping, Quintus, not without a map or a compass. Not all the men would make it and I refuse to leave any behind. We have been over and over this. Nothing has happened to change my mind.’

‘If you were General Pompey, he’d do it. Why, even young Caesar would have the balls for the task.’

Tullio hooked his thumbs around his belt. He would not rise to the bait. By invoking his rival tribune, Tullio knew Quintus was trying a very crude attempt at manipulation. He felt a muscle jump in his jaw and knew Quintus had nearly succeeded. He hated this inactivity as much as Quintus, if not more.

‘I thank the gods that I am not either man, Mustius Quintus. I trust my own judgement. Invoking that glory-hound Pompey or that young upstart Caesar will not move me. And I will remind you that you renewed your oath before we set sail.’