Defy the Eagle (70 page)

Jilana nodded, misery tightening her features. "And then he will leave and I will never see him again. Oh, Mother," she cried softly, "how will I bear it?"

August had no answer. She could only stroke her daughter's hair until she fell into a troubled sleep. With each day that passed, Augusta grew more convinced that the decision she and Marcus had made was a mistake, but Marcus had closed his ears to her arguments. Augusta was left with no recourse save the purse of coins she had given to the temple of Juno with instructions to offer daily sacrifices on Jilana's behalf.

Caddaric did not return to the villa until his black eye had faded. Contrary to Augusta's opinion, he had no desire to upset Jilana, but he still remembered with great satisfaction the feeling of his knuckles loosening several of Lucius' teeth; if he encountered the Roman again, he would happily break his jaw. Jilana was not in her bedchamber and none of the servants knew where she had gone, so Caddaric went from chamber to chamber in search of her. When he finally found her in the small storeroom on the second floor, his patience was spent.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded when he saw her pulling bolts of material from the shelves.

Jilana spared him a glance and then returned her attention to the shelves. "My mother wants me to choose the material for my wardrobe," she said tonelessly.

What she left unsaid, Caddaric knew, was that the material was for the clothing she would take to Rome. His breathing stopped at the thought, and he looked around the room, watching the shadows cast by the lamps flicker and jump against the walls.

As if driven to fill the silence that hung between them, Jilana went on, "My father is adding a ship to his fleet. Her maiden voyage will be to take us to Rome." She lifted a bolt of emerald green wool and moved closer to the lamps. "I have never been to sea before. Do you suppose I will be sick?" She glanced up at him and then shrugged, as if to say he need not bother to answer, and then her eyes returned to his face. "Your beard is gone!"

Caddaric nodded and ran his fingers along his jaw. "It itched."

Jilana nodded and turned away, not daring to comment upon the fact that his hair had obviously been freshly cut as well.

"Where is Lucius?"

"Back in Londinium I imagine," Jilana answered distractedly, as if it did not matter.

Which, in truth, it did not, but Caddaric did not know that. "Jilana, I am sorry, but I could not stand there and let him hit me."

"I know that," Jilana said, surprised.

Caddaric moved a hand idly across one of the bolts of silk. "I did not mean to cause trouble between the two of you."

Jilana stared at him and then gave a humorless laugh. "Oh, there will be no trouble. Have you not heard? Lucius believes that once he gets me to Rome all my troubles will be ended."

"You will have a good life there," Caddaric offered. "Much better than you would have found here."

"Juno, I am sick of hearing those pious words," Jilana spat at him, her heart bleeding. "Everyone seems to think they know what is best for me, but no one has asked what I want. Roman men do not believe in giving their women choices, but I expected better of you!"

Caddaric met and held her gaze for an eternity. "What do you want?"

Jilana caught her breath and then, her love for him glowing like a beacon in her eyes, she answered, "To go with you, to love you, be your wife."

"That," Caddaric said, his words falling like a death knell upon both their ears, "is impossible." He swung sharply about and left her to her misery while he dealt with his own private hell.

For the next six weeks, Caddaric was in constant attendance, and neither knew which was worse: not seeing each other or being together but neither touching nor speaking of anything personal. Even the touch of Caddaric's hand when they walked was impersonal, and he was quick to release her as soon as they returned to the safety of the house. Since the fight with Caddaric, Lucius had not returned to the villa and Jilana was grateful for his absence. Her moods grew more precarious with each passing day, while her body grew heavy and sluggish. Often Caddaric found her weeping and at those times he retreated quietly, sensing she would not welcome his presence.

In order to pass the time, Caddaric taught Jilana to dice and they passed many evenings gambling for imaginary fortunes. This evening, however, as she had throughout the day, Jilana found it difficult to sit still. The chair was uncomfortable, even with a cushion pushed into the small of her back, and soon she was up and pacing the confines of her bedchamber.

"My being here serves no purpose if you do not wish to dice or talk," Caddaric pointed out when she left her chair for the fourth time.

"Then leave," Jilana snapped, unable to control her frayed emotions any longer. "Just leave. I am not begging you to stay!"

Stunned by her attack, he raised both hands in a placating gesture. "I did not mean to offend you."

"Why not?" Jilana inquired waspishly. "All you care about is the child—surely my feelings cannot matter to you in the slightest."

Exhaling in a silent whistle, Caddaric picked up the dice and got to his feet. "I think you need to rest—"

"Do not think for me!" Jilana rounded on him, her hands absently massaging the cramp in her stomach. "I am tired of you telling me when to eat, when to sleep, when to walk! Juno! I am so very weary of everyone thinking for me, making my decisions—Oh!" Her eyes grew wide as her midsection was engulfed in such unexpected pain that she gripped the back of a chair for support.

"Jilana!" Caddaric was beside her in two long strides, one arm going around her waist. "What—"

"The babe," Jilana whispered when the pain receded. "Oh, Juno, I think the babe is coming."

Caddaric went cold with shock. Without conscious thought he whisked Jilana into his arms and deposited her on the bed. "I will get your mother."

Jilana's fingers dug into his forearm. "Clywd. Bring me Clywd."

Caddaric nodded and all but ran from the room. By the time he had informed Augusta and brought Clywd to Jilana's bedchamber, his forehead was bathed in cold sweat and his heart was pounding so hard he was certain it would burst.

"Stay out here," Clywd ordered when Caddaric made to follow his father into the room.

"But Jilana—"

"Does not need to see you this way," Clywd interrupted. "Go tell Heall what is happening and then come back." Gently shutting the door in his son's face, Clywd turned with a smile and went to Jilana. "So," he teased when he reached the bed, "you have finally decided to present me with my grandchild?"

Panic-stricken, Jilana reached for Clywd's hand and held on to it with all her strength. "Clywd, I do not know what to do."

Clywd smiled, patted her hand, and settled on the edge of the bed. "There is very little you need to know, is there, Lady Augusta?" he inquired of the woman standing on the other side of the bed.

Augusta shook her head. "'Twill come naturally, dearest, as it did with me. Just relax and do what your body tells you to."

Jilana nodded, trying to relax until the next contraction hit her and then she grew as taut as a bowstring.

"Hush now," Clywd soothed. "Ignore the pain, child, push it away."

When the next contraction came, Jilana took a deep breath and tried to do as Clywd said. She summoned tip pleasant memories, lost herself in them, and was surprised when Clywd tapped her on the arm and she discovered that the pain had passed.

"Very good," Clywd applauded. "Now, before the next contraction, let us get you into something more comfortable than this gown."

Caddaric was returning to the villa with Heall in tow when they encountered Marcus on the path to the slave quarters. Marcus halted abruptly at the sight of them, and then he nodded curtly.

"I was just coming to tell you that Jilana is about to give birth."

Caddaric thought it strange that Marcus should be informing him of that fact, and then he realized that Jilana' s father was addressing Heall.

"You are both welcome to wait with me, inside," Marcus invited, gesturing to his home.

The curious look Caddaric directed to the two older men was ignored as they made their way to the villa.

The house was ablaze with lights and Marcus led the way into the triclinium. A sealed amphora of wine and three goblets had been set out on one of the tables, while another held an assortment of food. "Men," Marcus said as he broke the seal and poured the wine, "are useless at times like these. I know that from experience." He handed Heall and Caddaric each a goblet and then raised his own.

"For this night, let there be no animosity between us; let us join together in celebrating the birth of my first grandchild."

"A grandchild you will never know," Heall felt compelled to add. "I pity you."

Two pairs of brown eyes locked as the older men regarded one another. "Aye, I know you do, but I must do what is best for my daughter."

Heall nodded and the three men raised their goblets in salute and drained them.

"Please, be seated." Marcus swept a hand toward the couches. "We have a long night ahead of us."

They had emptied three goblets of wine before Caddaric found the courage to ask, "Have you sent word to Lucius?"

Marcus blinked. "Nay. He has no part in this; his role in my daughter's life will come later."

"Jilana will not be happy with him," Caddaric stated with conviction, and then was appalled by his presumption.

One corner-of Marcus' mouth twitched. "She will learn to be happy." He splashed wine into all of their goblets before continuing. "Do not even think of taking my daughter with you, boy," he warned. "She deserves to live in Rome, in a magnificent villa with every comfort. What can you offer her?"

"Nothing that can rival Rome," Caddaric said honestly. "Do not fear, Lord Marcus, I have no designs upon your daughter. I am as anxious for her to leave Albion as you are to take her away."

"Aye," Marcus nodded. "I almost believe you." He turned his gaze on Heall. "And you, have you nothing to add?" Heall shook his head. "I have no say in the matter." Marcus was so absurdly pleased with that response that he called for a second amphora. Augusta descended the stairs near dawn and found the men reclining on their couches, discussing, of all things, Marcus' business. Judging by the sight of the amphorae, they had passed the night in drinking and Augusta only hoped that Caddaric was not too drunk.

"Excuse me," Augusta said in a voice that brought the three of them upright like naughty boys. "Caddaric, Jilana wishes to know if you want to be present at the birth of your child."

The pleasant glow brought on by the wine evaporated into thin air. Caddaric rose on legs that suddenly shook and made his way to the staircase. Behind him, he heard Augusta say, "I will tell you as soon as the babe is born," and then he heard her footsteps on the stairs.

Additional braziers had been lit in Jilana's bedchamber but Caddaric was not conscious of the heat. His eyes went immediately to where Jilana lay on the bed, her eyes closed. She was so still that, except for her breathing, she might have been dead and Caddaric nearly cried out at the thought. Instead, he moved to the foot of the bed where his father stood, his hands moving in circles over Jilana's stomach.

"Sit by her head," Clywd ordered without looking at his son. "When she tells you, lift her upright and hold her there."

Caddaric swallowed heavily when he caught sight of the blood staining the linens and did as he was told. Jilana's eyes flickered open when the bed sagged under his weight and he smiled shakily. "Thank you," he whispered.

Jilana nodded weakly. "Clywd told me—'tis your right, as the babe's father." She went tense in his arms and gritted out, "Lift me."

Caddaric obeyed immediately. Jilana seemed to vibrate in his arms and a feral sound emanated from her throat. Caddaric could do nothing more than hold her, wonder how bad the pain was, and wish he could take it from her. As suddenly as it had begun, it was over and she was lying limply against his chest, her eyes closed.

"Good, Jilana," Clywd said encouragingly. "Not much longer now."

Clywd had barely finished speaking before Caddaric felt the vibrations begin again. No sooner had that contraction ended than another began and suddenly Jilana's groan changed into a screech of agony. Caddaric's stomach turned over and he swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat.

"Wait, wait," Clywd ordered. Caddaric saw his arms move and then he said, "Again, child, once more."

Jilana seemed to come apart in his arms and then she collapsed, gasping for air. Before Caddaric had time to realize that it was finished, over the sound of her labored breathing came the mewling sound of a newborn babe. Caddaric's eyes flew from Jilana's pinched face to his father.

Clywd straightened, a mass of red, wrinkled humanity held in his hands. "A son," Clywd announced, smiling. "You have a son."

Tears clogging his throat, Caddaric bent his head to Jilana. Forgetting their circumstances, he whispered thickly, "Did you hear, my heart? We have a son." The corners of her mouth twitched in response and Caddaric surrendered to his emotions and kissed her tenderly.

"Love you..." Jilana murmured as she was lowered back to the pillows. She felt a warm, hard hand cup her cheek and turned her mouth against its flesh before exhaustion claimed her.