Barbarian's Soul (27 page)

She would not even consider the other choice. Bran had made it perfectly clear on more than one occasion, his feelings on Romans. No, she knew that her place was not in his world but in the streets and really, she preferred her freedom. Truly, she did.

Bran sighed and Adria twisted her face around to study his relaxed expression. His eyes were closed and she felt his breathing shift to an even, steady pattern as he slumbered. Her own lids heavy, she closed her own. In a matter of days, they would each go back to their lives. She would live and she would remember, she thought as sleep claimed her, her hand splayed over her belly.

Chapter Sixteen

T
he bedchamber was just lightening to the pale gray of dawn when Adria began to awaken. Through slitted eyes, she saw that all of the oil lamps that had cast such a perfect light last eve had sputtered out.

She sighed and snuggled against Bran, relished the feel of his chest at her back. They fit together perfectly, an observation she tried to push from her mind. She ran her hand along his arm where it draped across her waist. There was too little time left to waste on impossible wishes. As to her memory-gathering, she was well on her way to adding to her collection.

Twice more during the night they had made love—slower, gentler perhaps, but with no less passion. Her brow creased as a memory teased at her mind. During the height of her last climax when she’d cried out her release, what had she said?

I love you
.

The words came back to her with sharp clarity. She glanced over her shoulder at Bran’s still-restful expression. That wasn’t the only memory. She remembered the hesitancy, the uncertainty flashing behind his eyes. Oh, gods.

Adria inhaled. It was no less than what she expected, so it was ridiculous to feel hurt. There were still no promises between them and she accepted that her single-sided feelings were hers to bear. Enjoy the time left and be done.

Closing her eyes Adria considered the different ways she might wake her lover. A lick to the ear? A gentle stroke of his cock, which was still partially hard even in his slumber? Adria smiled to herself. Perhaps a lick to his cock?

A low, scraping noise sounded in the hallway between their chamber and the children’s. Adria started to awaken Bran, surprised he had not heard it himself, when she recognized the muffled curse.

Moving with as much stealth as she’d ever employed on the streets, Adria eased from beneath Bran’s arm, freezing in place when he made a sleepy protest, but he rolled onto his back still fast asleep. Picking her gown up from the floor, Adria slipped it on, fumbled with the second
fibulae
as she crept out into the hallway.

All was still, for the sun had not begun to rise in earnest. Even Menw was not yet stirring below in the kitchen. Perhaps she had been hearing things.

“Damnation!”

Adria’s head whipped in the direction of the children’s bedchamber. The door to the room was partially opened. It had been closed last evening.

She padded to the room and peered through the opening. Linus was removing a small sack of grain from beneath the covers of his bed, adding it to two others which, in combination, would appear very much like a sleeping boy.

Slippery little eel.

Adria’s attention was brought back by another hissed curse. She noted that he was favoring his right shoulder. “Are you injured?” she asked in a loud whisper.

Linus’ head jerked up. His skin was pale beneath the instant scowl that came to his face. The boy did not like her and Adria could accept that. The truth was, she could understand his fierce desire for independence. But he mattered to Bran and so he mattered to her. Pressing her lips together, she motioned him out of the room.

At first she thought he would not follow her direction but after a few moments of glaring and two anxious looks at his slumbering siblings, he joined her in the hallway. He opened his mouth but Adria silenced him with a raised hand. Glancing back at Bran’s bedchamber she waved him to follow.

She felt the weight of Linus’ scorn. She made her way down the stairs she had to make herself not glance back to see if he was preparing to push her to the bottom. She did not really feel him capable of violence but he was so terribly angry. Adria paused as she entered the kitchen.

Adria lifted one brow and crossed her arms. “Where were you last night?”

“You are not
my
nursemaid,” Linus grumbled, wincing as he crossed his own arms, cradled the right one. “I don’t need a nursemaid.”

“By Bran’s word, I am,” she replied. “But you are correct in saying you should not need a nursemaid.” She eyed him speculatively. “But you would do well with a friend.” Linus’ obstinate expression did not falter but Adria saw a flicker of wariness in his large, hazel eyes. “Now where were you last eve?”

“I was out,” he answered in a clipped tone.

Adria nodded. “
Out in Rome
can be very dangerous, especially at night.”

“I know how to take care of myself,” he muttered.

Again, Adria nodded knowingly. “I’m sure you do. I’m sure your mother taught you well.” Her heart clenched at the pain that flashed behind his eyes.

“My mother is dead,” he said in a flat voice.

“Yes,” Adria answered. “She is.” She looked around the kitchen before settling her gaze back on the belligerent youth. “You were her eldest and grew up watching her fight. That must have been very hard.”

Linus shrugged, though the tension in his shoulders indicated he wasn’t quite as unconcerned as he’d like her to believe. “Our master let us stay with her as long as she continued to win and line his coffers with silver. She would fight to the death for us.”

“And she did,” Adria said. “I imagine that she died knowing that she could count on her son to take care of his brother and sister. A difficult task if this son is sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

A muscle ticked in Linus’ jaw.

“Do you know who the
Vipera
are?”

If possible, Linus paled even more. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Adria reached forward and gently peeled back the front of Linus’ tunic. Linus grit his teeth as the wool pulled at the freshly burned skin. She shifted her gaze from the image of a striking asp to Linus’ stubborn gaze. “These boys are criminals, Linus.”

Linus jerked away. “They are my friends,” he protested. “By your own word I should have friends.”

Adria scoffed. “They are not. They are dangerous and would as soon slip a knife between your ribs then look you in the eye.”

Linus’ face went red. “You’re wrong. They look you in the eye, man to man.”

Adria narrowed her eyes. “Asps look you in the eye also, before they bury their poisonous fangs in your flesh.” She nodded to his shoulder. “Why do you think they call themselves the
Vipera
?” Adria took heart at the fleeting doubt that flashed across the boy’s face and pressed on. “They are notorious even among—” she swallowed “—among the thieves who live in the district.”

“They do not treat me as a child!”

Adria sighed. “Do you think Bran treats you like a child?”

Linus huffed out a breath. “He treats me like a captive. He does,” he said emphatically at her skeptical look. “I must have his permission before leaving the house and he never gives it unless he comes along and he rarely goes out save visiting Bryna or conducting business. I go mad with only Cyma and Julian for company.”

Adria felt a stab of sympathy for the boy. When Bran had first brought her here, it had been the same with her. Then, she had not been able to stand the sight of the brawny barbarian, and now the thought of being separated caused an ache too deep to contemplate.

“Bran cares about you, he does,” she continued despite Linus’ scoff. “I see plainly that you are no longer a slave. Has he not cared for you since your mother’s death?”

Linus face went hard. “He caused my mother’s death.”

Adria stared at him. She knew grief took many forms, anger being one of the most common. When she’d lost her parents she had been angry at the world for the unfairness, and, for a period of time, even angry at them for catching the swamp fever. She’d lashed out at anyone within striking distance and it was not until Miriam had found her and taken her in, given her the love she was missing, that she’d found her center again. She opened her mouth to speak.

“The boy is right,
agara.
”

Linus turned with her to look at Bran who stood in the doorway, hands braced on either side of him. He had not bothered to dress, save for his loincloth. His hair was bed-tousled and his eyes still slumberous. But his gaze was sharp as he raked it between the two of them.

Adria hugged herself, bracing for a confrontation as Bran strolled into the kitchen. He looked first at Linus, who sent him hot glares from beneath his lashes then to her. Adria had seen sadness in those green eyes before, but nothing like the sorrow filling them now.

“My master Hapu contracted with Beatrix’s master to take a stable of fighters to the games held by the provincial governor.
It was the largest arena I’d ever fought in. Every manner of gladiator was represented. There were staged battles, wild beasts fighting each other and fighting us.” His mouth flattened. “There were even executions during the noontime meal. Our schools were not renowned so we were relegated to the more mundane matches. But the governor relished the excitement and set in the contract that each match would be to the death.”

Adria shivered at the stark coldness beneath Bran’s words.

“We were scheduled to fight in the last events of the day. I expected to go out alone as I had always done but at the last moment the master of the game decided that we should fight in pairs.”

“Pairs?”

Bran nodded curtly. “Two gladiators chained together, fighting another pair in the same circumstance. Beatrix and I were chosen to be bound together.”

“A man and a woman?”

“Such a combination was lauded as an innovation. The wagering alone rose to three times as much as any other match had been. I was opposed to it, of course, though as a slave, my opinion held no value. Beatrix was resigned but she had been through this before—I had not. We will be victorious, she assured me, there are no two better fighters.” He paused, glanced away before turning back, his voice tight. “But then, someone decided to improve their chances of winning the coin bet against us and bribed the arena attendant to chain us by our sword arms.” Bran’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Just before we were tossed onto the sand, Beatrix looked at me and said, ‘Take care of my children. If you live, see them free.’”

“And you lived,” whispered Adria.

“Yes, I lived.” He leveled his gaze at Linus. “Your mother fought well that day. She fought for you as any mother would, because you were her world. I live with the knowledge that if I had been more attentive, blocked a strike a second sooner she might still be here.”

Linus twisted his mouth in an obvious effort not to cry while Bran’s face remained an inscrutable mask. Her heart broke for the both of them.

“Yes, she would still be here,” sneered Linus, “and you would not be burdened with the three of us, isn’t that what you think?”

Bran said nothing, which fueled Linus’ temper. “To hell with you, barbarian!”

Adria stood helplessly as Linus stormed out of the room and up the stairs while Bran remained still as a stone.

Adria allowed the silence to sit between them for several long moments. “Why did you not tell him different?”

Bran looked at the ground. “Because I fear there is a measure of truth in what he says.”

What was she to say to that? She did not for a moment believe that he did not care for the children. A warrior, a gladiator might be at a loss on what to do with them, but an honorable man, even one with a shielded heart, would do what Bran had done.

Adria walked to Bran, sighing as his warm arms wrapped around her. “You must cease taking the blame for things for which you have no control.”

Bran nuzzled the top of her head. “I failed and I pay the price of the failure in Linus’ contempt,” he said in a thick voice. “The only respite I have found is with you.”

And that time was drawing ever closer to an end. Adria’s own throat thickened. She closed her eyes, her cheek pressed over his heart, the steady beat filling her with love and resolve.

“What were you and the boy talking about?” he murmured.

“Nothing of consequence.” If Bran were to forbid Linus from his path it would only serve to push the boy further into the arms of the
Vipera.
She would find a way to steer him clear and give Bran a parting gift of peace in his heart. “Come, I saw pomegranates in the kitchen to break our fast.”

Bran’s lips tugged into a half-smile. “Bring the fruit and I shall see if the juice is as sweet as the honey.”

***

“Where have ya been?”

Linus spun around and peered into the shadows. He knew they were there, he could feel the weight of their scrutiny. But the
Vipera
were very adept at concealment. They also had a keen ability to sense fear. He straightened his shoulders and spoke into the empty alley. “I told you I’d come when I was able.”

A soft thud sounded behind him. Linus spared a glance over his shoulder, raking his gaze over the scrawny, blonde-headed gang member standing in an attack position. It took everything in him not to raise his eyes and try to guess from where he had jumped.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Linus dropped into the defensive crouch his mother had taught him, blade in his right hand, the other outstretched for balance. The three new
Vipera
grinned, all with various teeth missing.

A disembodied voice spoke. “Your reflexes show promise.”

Linus met each boy’s gaze with his own, sending them a silent message that he would not hesitate to act before he faced their leader. “Is that the way the
Vipera
treat their brothers, Minos?”

The tall, rangy youth disengaged from a shadowed corner, one brow lifted. “Ah, but you are not yet a brother, are you, Linus?”