Defy the Eagle (5 page)

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Night came gently to Venta Icenorum, as if denying the violent forces Catus Decianus had that morning set in motion. In the Roman portion of the town, homes were well lit and the sound of laughter and animated conversation filled the night air. In the Iceni quarters, however, homes as well as the mood were dark, forbidding. Not even the sounds of mourning were heard and a sentry at Iceni palace tried vainly to overcome his uneasiness at unaccustomed silence. The sentry pivoted and began retracing his steps along the outside wall of the palace. At the same moment the Roman back was turned, a figure detached itself from the sharpening stone and dashed noiselessly across the shadowed courtyard and into the palace.

Boadicea heard him first, and signaling one of her women to open her chamber door, she drew herself stiffly upright on the Roman couch, the only piece of furniture the soldier had allowed her to keep. "Enter, Caddaric," said in a hushed voice, "and tell me what news you bear."

Caddaric obeyed, his tall, broad-shouldered frame filling the doorway before he strode into the room and went down on one knee in front of his queen. "Forgive me, Majesty, but our number is too small to accomplish your wishes this night. We require one more day in which to grow strong enough to bring the Romans low."

Boadicea sighed. "So little time, Caddaric, and yet the morrow seems an eternity away. My heart screams for vengeance and you say I must wait." The royal features contorted with thwarted need as Boadicea came "to a decision. "Then tell my chieftains to fill the streets with Roman blood. Tell them also to bring to me the Roman Procurator and his personal guards. I will see their deaths with my own eyes."

"'Twill be as you command, Majesty."

For a moment the Queen was silent, contemplating the shadows cast by the room's solitary lamp. In a harsh tone Boadicea said, "They outraged my daughters, Caddaric. Stripping my daughters of their inheritance was not enough, the Romans had to take their virginity as well. Tell that to my people."

Caddaric closed his eyes, rage heating his blood. "All will be avenged, O Queen. None shall escape our vengeance." He touched her hand to his forehead and went to the door.

"Caddaric." Boadicea's voice swung the warrior about. "The young woman who helped me today—do you remember her?"

"Aye, Majesty." Caddaric's hand tightened around his sword hilt. How could he forget Jilana when she had been in his thoughts throughout the day? She and the man who claimed to be her betrothed.

"She is to be spared along with her family, if such a thing is possible. You will see to it, Caddaric." Before Caddaric could think her lenient Boadicea continued, "They will be made slaves—the girl will be given to the warrior who brings Catus Decianus to me."

"As you command, Majesty." A wave of the royal hand dismissed him and minutes later Caddaric had left the town behind and melted into the forest beyond.

He felt the presence of warriors and warrior maids all about him, but not even Caddaric's practiced eye could discern their positions. The forest was alive with his fellow tribesmen and though Caddaric was loathe to consider what the following day would bring, his pride in the Iceni nation swelled his heart. Clywd—once again swathed from head to foot in black—stepped from the trees directly into his son's path.

"Rebellion?" At Caddaric's short nod, Clywd appeared to shrink under the voluminous folds of his robe.

"There is no other choice, wise one. You better than anyone should know that we are powerless to fight what the gods decree.''

Clywd turned. "The chieftains wait. I will take you to

Caddaric delivered the Queen's orders to her chieftains and then detached himself from the waiting Iceni force and made his way to the clearing where he had discovered Jilana. Jilana. Caddaric's heart hammered painfully as he remembered his first glimpse of the woman who had haunted him for so long. His dreams had not done justice to Jilana's beauty—she was more incredibly delicate than Caddaric had imagined, her eyes such a remarkable shade of violet that to gaze into them was akin to drowning. He had not expected the unbearable yearning of his soul to possess Jilana, nor had he anticipated Jilana's bravery in the face of Roman justice. A faint smile curved Caddaric's lips and he stretched out full length on the ground and contemplated the moon. By the gods, but Jilana's courage had stirred him! Iceni women—the warrior maids—were as fearless as their male counterparts, more than willing to die a glorious death on the battlefield. But to encounter that same quality in Jilana, a Roman, kindled a flame in his soldier's heart. When Caddaric had beheld the fierce, uncompromising gleam in those violet eyes he had known that Jilana was his intended mate.

Blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully, Caddaric allowed his mind to consider the morrow. Since Jilana would be given to the warrior who captured Catus Decianus, Caddaric would have to make certain he was that warrior; but first he would see Jilana safely out of reach of the fighting which would take place. As for Jilana's family and betrothed ... Caddaric's jaw set in a hard line as he remembered the man who had laid claim to Jilana's hand. In spite of the Queen's command, Caddaric could not allow Jilana's betrothed to come with her into slavery. To accept as her mate an Iceni warrior, she must forget her Roman heritage—she must begin life anew, at Caddaric's side, with no lingering traces of the Empire to mar their time together. Jilana's family must be eliminated from her life.

Abruptly Caddaric sat upright and stared at the surrounding forest. He knew that in all probability he would not live out this revolt against Rome. Caddaric was a soldier and a soldier's lot was to die in battle; it was a fact which, until now, had neither worried nor elated him. He would die one day and he preferred a clean death on a battlefield to that of a lingering death of illness. For that reason Caddaric was the perfect fighting machine, and because his utter contempt for death was tempered with an excellent grasp of timing and strategy, Caddaric had risen to the rank of centurion in the auxiliary. Yet now a feeling of desperation touched Caddaric's heart as he realized why he had not fallen in some earlier battle. The gods had spared him and tormented him with dreams of Jilana so that he might recognize the woman who would bear his son. Hopefully, Caddaric thought with his usual touch of mockery, the gods were foresighted enough to allow him a leisurely space of time in which to plant his seed within Jilana.

CHAPTER TWO

The morning following Boadicea's dispossession dawned chill and overcast, fitting Jilana's mood perfectly. She slipped from her bed before the other members of her family awoke and donned her short riding tunic. As she belted the wide leather girdle around her waist, Jilana's conscience twinged painfully. She was, again, in direct disobedience of her parents' wishes, as well as Lucius'. After the scene she had created at the Iceni palace, Lucius had given strict instructions that she not set foot outside the villa until Catus Decianus left Venta Icenorum and her parents had reluctantly agreed. Jilana' sighed, silenced her guilt, and wrapped a long, warm cloak about her shoulders. She would be trapped in the villa for the better part of the day, preparing herself for the Procurator's visit, and Jilana needed some time alone to forget the horror of yesterday.

Only a few of the servants were stirring at this hour and Jilana neatly evaded them as she made her way from the villa. The separate kitchen was the place Jilana ran the greatest risk of discovery, but since her grumbling stomach loudly protested the idea of by-passing the source of the delicious smells wafting toward her, Jilana veered toward the kitchen and positioned herself by an open window. Despite the early hour the cooks were busy preparing for tonight's feast and Jilana's mouth watered at the sight of cheeses, wheat cakes, fruit and the earthenware jars filled with assorted preserves Marcus had imported from Rome. Jilana's stomach howled indignantly at such temptation and she waited impatiently until the two cooks disappeared into the storeroom of the kitchen. The instant her path was clear Jilana left the window and dashed through the door. With a minimum of wasted motion, Jilana snatched up a cold leg of mutton which had caught her eye, a half dozen wheat cakes, and two loaves of freshly baked bread and placed them in a small, woven market basket. Before the two women could return, Jilana fled, darting across the courtyard to the stable.

Jilana's mount, a gentle bay mare, snorted eagerly at her mistress's arrival and Jilana lovingly stroked the soft nose before turning her attention to the saddle and bridle. Jilana readied the mare with a careless efficiency which would have disgusted Claudia, and led the animal through the stable and the arched gateway which was hidden from the villa. Once in the street, Jilana sprang into the saddle and sedately walked the mare to the east gate of Venta Icenorum. The sentry knew Jilana well, but this morning his usual smile was missing. Instead of a hearty greeting the sentry briskly motioned her through the gate with a look of studied contempt that cut into her heart. Sighing, Jilana tapped her heels against the mare's sides and galloped across the plain which stood between the town and the forest.

Without consciously planning to do so, Jilana headed straight to the glade and dismounted at the precise spot where she had been standing the day before when the mysterious centurion had come upon her. For some reason she did not comprehend, Jilana found herself hoping the centurion would appear, even while her sensible self chided her heart for its foolishness. She continued to hope, nonetheless, as she set her confiscated meal on the ground and then slowly surveyed the towering oaks.

Jilana pivoted gracefully, violet eyes searching the undergrowth. "Centurion," she called softly, willing him to materialize. Eerie silence met her call and when the wind freshened, lifting Jilana's cloak in billowing folds, an unexpected chill touched her spine. He is here, an inner voice whispered; yet Jilana sensed another presence as well, and this second presence left her mouth dry with fear. Today hatred emanated from the forest, destroying the serenity of her secret place with devastating thoroughness. I dare not stay here, Jilana thought wildly, but it seemed an eternity before her legs regained enough strength to allow Jilana to return to her horse. The wind sighed through the trees, but to Jilana the familiar noise had an ominous ring: the breeze sounded to Jilana's ears like the screams of a host of dying, tortured souls. With a choked cry, Jilana mounted and sent her mare crashing through the trees.

Caddaric, flanked by Heall and Clywd, stepped into the clearing and watched Jilana disappear. Passion flamed in his blue eyes as Caddaric plucked the abandoned basket from the ground and studied its contents.

"A most beautiful woman," Clywd murmured appreciatively. "You should have answered her call, Caddaric."

Caddaric snorted in disgust and cut himself a generous portion of mutton. "To what end, Druid? 'Tis not my wish to find a dagger in my back before I have had a chance to avenge our Queen." Both Clywd and Heall chortled over his words and Caddaric shook his head.

"'Twould not be so amusing had your footsteps been shadowed for the past few hours." His reprimand did little to extinguish either man's mirth and with a resigned sigh Caddaric glanced at the spot where he had hidden. "Come forth, Ede, the wicked Roman is gone."

The taunting note in Caddaric's voice brought a low cry of outrage from the trees and a moment later a tall, lithesome young woman followed her voice into the clearing. "Wicked Roman! Bah!" Ede glared at Caddaric. "She is little more than a child—an easily frightened child as well."

Caddaric shrugged and handed Ede the basket. "Eat."

Ede tossed her head, sending the loose mass of moon-silver hair shimmering defiantly. "I will starve before Roman food passes my lips!" When Caddaric shrugged again, totally indifferent to her outrage, the flecks of green in Ede's eyes snapped to life. "Who is she, Caddaric? Why does a Roman woman ride from the safety of the town and call for you?"

"So you admit she is a woman." Caddaric grinned, finding Ede's jealousy amusing. "It gladdens my heart to know your eyesight is so keen. Had you named her child again you would have remained behind tonight. I want none to fight who cannot distinguish child from adult or post from Roman."

Ede was not to be diverted. "Who is she, Caddaric?" she hissed.

"A Roman. The same Roman who yesterday extended her hand to Queen Boadicea and earned her life," Caddaric said calmly.

"The same Roman who gave our brave Caddaric flowers," Heall put in gleefully.

"By the gods!" Ede's hand fell to her dagger. "I shall kill her with my own hands."

"Nay." Clywd, too, entered the conversation. "By the Queen's own command this one is to be spared and given to the warrior who captures the Roman Procurator."

Ede's face glowed with malice and she eyed Caddaric as he leisurely bit into one of the wheat cakes and handed the basket to Clywd. She waited impatiently until the two older men retired some distance away to share their meal before continuing. "Then I shall capture the Procurator. Does that suit you, Caddaric?"

Caddaric raised a mocking eyebrow. "Do you ask my permission, Ede? Or do you but toy with the idea of having a slave? In truth, I doubt you would find Jilana of little help in building a fire or sharpening your battle-axe."

His knowledge of Jilana's name added fuel to Ede's jealousy. "You would use her well, no doubt!"

"Enough." Caddaric's patience and amusement had reached their limits.

"Nay," Ede spat. "I know you well, Caddaric. You want this woman for yourself. I have seen the hunter's gleam in your eye often enough to know what it foretells." A sad catch colored Ede's voice. "Why do you take such delight in causing me pain?"

"You cause your own pain," Caddaric told her bluntly. At the tears which welled in Ede's eyes, however, Caddaric softened. "Ede, 'tis over between us. We parted nearly six months ago."

"You loved me," Ede protested, her chin trembling.

"Mayhap, for a time." Caddaric took her strong hand in his. "Brave as you are, glorious as you are, I could never take you to wife. In the time we shared together your jealousy ate like a canker at my mind and soul."

"But if you took me to wife in front of our village and your father—"

"Nay, Ede." Caddaric interrupted as gently as possible. "You would not change, nor would I. Choose another, Ede; any warrior in our village would die of happiness if you honored him as you have done me."

Ede pulled away from Caddaric. "I will have no other! From the time we were children I have sworn you would one day take me to wife and you shall. If I must destroy your Roman slut then—"

Caddaric delivered a calculated slap to Ede's cheek and when she fell into sullen silence he warned her coldly, "Touch one hair on Jilana's head and you will earn my hatred as you have just earned my wrath. She will be mine, Ede, mine. I will tolerate none of your interference!"

Caddaric watched as Ede fled, sobbing, into the forest. He had not meant to be cruel but it was the only choice Ede had left him. Caddaric ran a hand through his hair, shrugged off the unpleasant scene with Ede, and joined his father and Heall.