Defy the Eagle (4 page)

Of their own volition, Jilana's legs carried her forward and she rudely shouldered people aside until she stood in front of Boadicea. The Iceni Queen slowly raised her head until her brilliant, blue eyes locked with Jilana's violet ones. For a long moment they stared at each other, Boadicea awaiting the fall of yet another Roman insult and Jilana searching vainly for words to express the sorrow which filled her heart.

"Jilana, nay," Marcus whispered, somehow knowing what his daughter would do.

Augusta had seen her, too, and she lunged forward. "Marcus, we must stop her!"

Marcus caught his wife before she had taken two steps and held her firmly in his arms. In a horrified voice he told her, '"Tis too late, Augusta. The gods must protect her now."

Caddaric, unable to see what was taking place because of his position, had had his fill of Roman abuse. "No matter what befalls me, Heall, return to the others before the gates of the town are closed. The Queen's chieftains must be told what has transpired here today."

"Caddaric!" Heall lurched forward but the young warrior was far out of his reach.

Unaware of the tumult, Jilana extended a slender hand to the fallen Queen. "Come, let me help you." Boadicea eyed her warily and, in spite of the insults her fellow Romans were shouting, Jilana bent and drew one of Boadicea's arms around her shoulders.

Boadicea came to her feet with a small cry and Jilana struggled under the woman's weight. The crowd refused to yield and Jilana, a grim set to her jaw, pushed at the human wall with her free hand. Vile epithets followed Jilana's every step but she ignored them as she doggedly cleared a path for herself and her awkward burden. Though she was tall by Roman standards, Jilana was far smaller than the Iceni Queen and Boadicea was forced to bend in order to accept Jilana's aid, an action which caused even greater pain to her raw back.

"Let me go, child," Boadicea groaned softly. "When he has humiliated me to his satisfaction, the Procurator will have me carried inside."

"Nay," Jilana panted, shuddering when a glob of spittle splattered against her toga. "I would have you know at least one Roman here today is not lacking in courage."

They had advanced only another few inches when the crowd abruptly quieted and parted, and Jilana stared straight into the narrowed eyes of Catus Decianus. "You flaunt Nero's will, woman," the Procurator said in a menacing voice. "This Iceni is bound for Rome, to serve the Emperor himself. Nero will not take it kindly when he learns of your interference."

"Will he take kindly the fact that you allowed his newest slave to wallow in the dirt so that her wounds became infected?" Jilana retorted, although her heart thumped wildly in her breast. Lucius stood at the Procurator's side and Jilana avoided his censorious stare. "Only a fool would allow Caesar's prize to court destruction, Catus Decianus."

The Procurator's face turned an ugly shade of red and Lucius hastily stepped forward. "Jilana, your concern for this woman is misplaced. Her wounds—"

"You know this woman, Tribune," Catus inquired angrily.

White brackets appeared at the sides of Lucius' mouth, but he answered steadily, "Aye, Excellency. She is my betrothed."

"Ah, I know her now. You are the daughter of Marcus Basilius, are you not?" Without waiting for Jilana's reply, Catus added, "You are young and therefore allowed a mistake in judgment. Leave the barbarian and return to your home. We will see to her care."

Jilana's violet gaze did not waver. "Will you give the order now, Excellency, within my hearing?"

For a moment it seemed Catus would strike her, and Jilana braced herself for the blow. Catus raised his hand but then, apparently, changed his mind. Glancing about the crowd he spied a grim-faced legionary and motioned to him. "You, Centurion! Come here." When the centurion halted behind the woman and saluted, Catus ordered, "Take the Iceni into the palace, and be quick."

Catus turned and stalked off, Lucius following him, and the crowd, sensing that there was no further sport to be found here, dispersed.

"I will take the Queen now."

The familiar, deep voice sent Jilana's heart racing and as Boadicea's weight was taken from her, she gazed wordlessly into the centurion's blue eyes.

Caddaric gently pulled his Queen's arm across his broad shoulders. "Queen Boadicea will be cared for, lady."

Jilana nodded and wrenched her eyes back to Boadicea' s strained features. "I will have a salve made for your wounds, Majesty, and my father's own physician will tend you."

Sadness filled Boadicea's eyes and she shook her head. "Nay, child. There is no need for you to do more. For your kindness I give you thanks."

Jilana watched until they were inside the palace before she turned and left the courtyard. It struck her, as Jilana wound her way through the streets to the villa, that barely two hours had passed since sunrise.

Boadicea did not speak until the centurion had carried her through the ransacked Iceni palace to her chambers. The Queen's chambers were untouched—at least for the moment—and Caddaric tenderly lowered Boadicea to her couch and then touched her hand to his forehead in a gesture of servitude.

"The Roman uniform suits you well, Caddaric," Boadicea commented in a strained voice. "I nearly mistook you for a true centurion."

"Forgive me, my Queen." Caddaric went down on one knee before her. "I would have served you best by impaling the Procurator on my sword."

"Nay, Caddaric. Such action would have brought your death, and my back would still have been laid open. You chose the wisest course."

Boadicea had winced at the mention of her wounds and Caddaric hurriedly rose. "I shall bring your women, Highness, so they may tend your wounds."

"Hold, Caddaric." Boadicea forced her pain away and motioned Caddaric back to her. From outside her chamber came the sound of Roman feet tramping over the wooden floors as the soldiers carried out the Procurator's order to sack the palace. Tears started to Boadicea's eyes as pain, humiliation and visions of the scene outside her chamber threatened to overwhelm her. "Am I so much a threat to Rome that they could not leave me what was rightfully mine?"

Caddaric strode to the door and, after assuring himself that no one was within hearing distance, closed the portal and returned to the couch. "Our people have answered your call. By nightfall our force will be large enough to take you and your daughters from Venta Icenorum and protect you until the rest of the warriors are roused. In a month we will be strong enough to meet the Romans, defeat them, and spirit you safely to the northern part of the island."

"Nay, Caddaric, I will not run!" Boadicea leaned forward, her eyes flashing. "Have I enough warriors to avenge myself here, this night?"

Caddaric hesitated. "Tonight, Majesty?"

"In two days they will take me to Londinium and from there to Rome. I
have no
time, Caddaric!" Boadicea lowered her voice. "Have I warriors enough?"

"Perhaps. Your chieftains will begin arriving in the forest with our force by afternoon." Caddaric paused, considering. "What is your plan?"

"Surprise—total surprise. Tonight the Romans will be celebrating. They will be drunk on wine and the shedding of Iceni blood; they will not expect us to attack." Boadicea took Caddaric's hand. "Go to my chieftains, Caddaric, tell them what I desire."

"And if the Queen's wish is impossible?"

"Then I will go north. But I would rather die fighting the Romans than running from them." Boadicea released him. "Go now, Caddaric. I know you will find your way back with my answer."

"If it please you, Majesty, I will send Heall in my stead and I will remain here to guard you."

Boadicea shook her head. "You must both go. The Romans can do no more to me than what has already transpired. My women will tend me while you and Heall learn the enemy's weakness and rally my warriors." Caddaric started to protest but Boadicea silenced him with an imperious look. "Go, my brave warrior, and return to me with glad tidings."

Caddaric bowed and left his Queen. The palace was alive with Roman soldiers and Caddaric surreptitiously lade his way past the growing piles of confiscated royal belongings to the courtyard where Heall waited. Wordlessly Caddaric gripped Heall's upper arm and steered him toward the palace gates.

"I thought you had been taken," Heall growled; then, noting the direction they took, he questioned, "Why are we leaving? Should we not stay with the Queen?"

"She bids us leave," Caddaric answered, and he quietly explained Boadicea's orders to the older man. "We must locate the barracks and armory and determine the strength of the Roman garrison. Then we will wait with Clywd for the Queen's chieftains and tell them what we have learned."

****

While Caddaric and Heall set about learning the enemy's defenses, Jilana stepped inside her parents' walled garden and, with a slight squaring of her shoulders, walked to the villa. The servants looked at her askance and Jilana sighed inwardly—the news of her indiscretion had spread quickly. Over the tiled floors Jilana glided, the soft click of her sandals echoing hollowly as she passed through the hall. Claudia's enraged voice carried from the far side of the villa's lower floor and Jilana increased her pace. Character assassination was Claudia's first love and Jilana did not intend to allow her sister a clear field on which to hone her skills.

"How could Jilana behave as she did," Claudia was shrieking as Jilana entered the room. "How could she? as bad enough she went to that.. .that barbarian's aid, but to be recognized by the Procurator as well! I do not know how I shall bear the humiliation."

''Why should you be humiliated," Jilana asked, her quiet tone a vivid contrast to her sister's. "'Twas not your hand which raised Boadicea from the ground, Claudia. The responsibility is mine to bear."

"As well you should," Claudia snapped. "But we will suffer as well. Catus Decianus will surely mention you in his report to Rome—Father's business will be hurt and my chances for a perfect marriage will be ruined."

Jilana wrinkled her nose. "We are a long way from Rome, Claudia. I doubt anyone there, including the Emperor, will take too much notice of what happens on this island." She glanced around the room. "Where is Mother?"

"In her bedchamber, where you have driven her," Claudia jeered.

"The morning was too much for your mother, I fear," Marcus put in, a warning eyebrow lifted at Claudia. "The Procurator's guards escorted us home but would not allow us to wait for you. Your mother was sick with fear that the Procurator had taken you."

"I am sorry, Father." Jilana's cheeks pinkened beneath her father's gaze. "Not for helping the Iceni Queen, that I do not repent, but for causing you and Mother needless fear."

"She is not a queen," Claudia screeched. "She is a slave! Caesar's slave. You risked our name and good prospects over one who is less than a piece of offal. I shall never live down the humiliation, and if my friends in Rome learn of this I shall die of embarrassment!"

With an exclamation of disgust, Jilana rounded on her sister. "A nation died today, Claudia. An entire people were stripped of their land and made slaves. Surely that is of far more import than the vaulted opinions of people at the other end of the Empire!''

"You will see how important those opinions are when Lucius takes you to Rome," Claudia spat. "People in Britannia may tolerate your uncivilized ways, but those in Rome will not. Your comeuppance is long overdue, dear sister, and I pray that I may see it delivered."

"We know well your opinions, Claudia; you have voiced them often enough," Marcus sighed. "Leave us now; I have matters to discuss with Jilana in private."

Claudia was not to be denied a parting shot. "Lucius will not be pleased with you, Jilana. He will reprimand you even if Father does not.''

When Claudia was gone, Jilana walked slowly to a place in front of Marcus.

"Will you beat me, Father?"

"Do you feel you deserve a beating," Marcus countered.

"Claudia thinks so, and so does Catus Decianus, and probably most of your friends," Jilana replied thoughtfully, but her violet eyes showed no trace of remorse. "For myself, I followed the dictates of my conscience, but I am willing to abide by your decision."

A smile flirted with the corners of Marcus' mouth. He had taught his children that inner peace would be achieved only through being true to themselves, but he had also counseled compromise when their conscience ran opposite to the rules of the Empire. Claudia had taken only the advice on compromise to heart whereas Jilana, more often than not, was so true to her conscience that Marcus feared she would die a martyr to it. "When was the last time I struck you, Jilana?"

"The day I released your prize falcon," Jilana answered promptly. "I thought it cruel he was allowed to fly only when you so willed....but I was only six at the time," she added, remembering quite well her abused posterior when Marcus had learned of the act.

"So now instead of my falcons you offer yourself as shield to Nero's scourged slave. Caesar would do more than redden your buttocks if you earned his wrath. Remember that, Jilana, and take my warning to heart."

Jilana bowed her head meekly, obediently. "Aye, Father."

Frowning at this sudden change in heart, Marcus lifted Jilana's chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "I regret what happened to the Iceni people and their Queen, Jilana, but nothing you or I do or say can change Caesar's will. For good or bad we are Romans, daughter. We must make concessions to our citizenship. One day, perhaps when Lucius gains the power he desires, you and he will be able to change our government and curb its excesses, but the time is not yet ripe. Do not sacrifice your life without purpose."

Jilana stared at her father with new understanding. "Was Claudia right, Father? Have my actions endangered you?"

"Claudia exaggerates," Marcus said gently. "Eyebrows will be raised and a few tongues may wag but that is all. In time, all will be forgotten." "Will Lucius forget?"

Marcus smiled. "Aye, if you do not remind him." He sobered. "The first step toward erasing people's memories will be taken tomorrow evening. The Procurator is to dine with us." Jilana recoiled in horror but Marcus held her fast. "Claudia is delighted; your mother and I are less enthusiastic. You need not fawn over him—that will be happily done by your sister—but you must at least be civil. Keep Lucius at your side throughout the evening; he will deal with any devious questions the Procurator puts to you. Follow Lucius' lead in conversation and you will be safe. As soon as you decently may, contract a blinding headache, beg the Procurator's forgiveness, and go to your bedchamber."

"Aye, Father," Jilana whispered. Marcus released her and she walked to the door. She paused and turned searching eyes upon her father. "I did not expect the compromise to begin so soon."

"Go and see your mother," Marcus ordered. "Discuss the evening with her. There is no one better at avoiding compromising situations than Augusta. And, Jilana," he called when she took a step forward, "I was proud this day to call you daughter."