Reading Online Novel

Celtic Fire(68)



“You have a child,” he said, hating himself. He’d thought only of his own desire for Rhiannon and his need to keep Aulus away. He’d never considered she might have left a babe behind. Did the little one cry for her now?

But she shook her head. “Four years ago a difficult birth came upon me. Two nights, the midwife told me later, though I hardly knew if the sun rose or set. At the end of it, the babe was born broken. Dead. Niall blamed me.”

“He should have been glad he didn’t lose you as well.”

“No. He was right to despise me. The lad was large and I too small to bear him. By rights, I should have died and given my son the chance to live.” Her fingers ripped another tuft of wool from the blanket. “I prayed that Briga—the Great Mother—would send me another child. I sought Niall again and for a time he obliged me. His seed took root twice more. But each time, the babe passed from my body before two moons had passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“The last time Niall came to me—” She closed her eyes and shuddered.

“He hurt you.”

“No. Not truly.” But she didn’t meet his gaze.

“Lead me to him and I will kill him.”

“He is already dead.” Rhiannon lifted her head. “Killed by a soldier of Rome. As so many of my people have been.”

Lucius could find no reply to that.

“Leave the northlands, Lucius. Take Marcus and the healer and go back to Rome. It’s not safe for you here.”

“I am not so easy to kill. The fort is secure.”

She searched his gaze. “Can you be sure of that? Truly certain?”

He took her hand and the chill of her touch caused the hairs on his nape to rise. “What do you mean?”

“My people will never stop fighting.”

He made a sound of dismissal. “Once the Celts of the north taste the riches of Rome, they will join their brethren to the south in welcoming a civilized life.”

“Many believe death would be preferable.”

“They are fools.”

“Not fools. Men who fight for their lives and homes.”

Lucius shook his head. “If Caesar hadn’t landed on this island, the tribes would be busy enough fighting among themselves like children in need of a nursemaid. Rome has brought an end to strife in the south of Britannia.”

“So long as the people pay taxes and answer to a Roman governor.” Her voice betrayed her bitterness.

“Yes.” He gave her a long, level look. “Is that so terrible a price to pay for peace?”

“Must you Romans take all you see, Lucius? Will you never stop?”

“Rome’s strength lies in expansion. The emperor seeks glory in all lands.”

“ ’Tis glory purchased with the blood of his countrymen. And for what? A moment’s rest before the killing begins anew?” She extracted her hand from his and rose from the bed. She paced to the window, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders as she went.

After a long moment, Lucius came up behind her and laid his palms on her shoulders. Dipping his head, he dropped hot kisses on the curve of her neck. “Let’s not argue, sweet. Come back to bed and I’ll make you forget any thought of discord.”

“Go back to Rome, Lucius,” Rhiannon said without turning. “Let me return to my people. There’s nothing for you here.”

“You would have me leave you? After what we shared last night?” He wouldn’t be able to do it, of that he was certain. What he’d felt in Rhiannon’s arms had been beyond compare.

She said nothing.

He turned her toward him with one swift motion, far more roughly than he’d intended. “Rhiannon. You are like no woman I’ve ever known. I … I died in your embrace last night.”

“Oh, Lucius.”

“The slowest and sweetest of deaths, not the quick agony I’ve longed to inflict upon myself with my sword.”

Rhiannon gave a cry of dismay. “You cannot truly wish to put an end to your life.”

“I have seriously considered it.” He looked at the door. Aulus, he had no doubt, crouched behind it. “Never more than yesterday.”

He released her and stepped away. “Six months ago, when my brother’s ghost first appeared, it was a wisp of mist. With every northward step I took, Aulus grew clearer. Now—” Lucius’s hand clenched in a fist. “He appears to me as solid as a living man. He’s been beaten—tortured—but I cannot see his tormentors. His clothing is in shreds. He stumbles about and I wonder that his blood does not stain the tile. If I don’t find my brother’s killer, I’ll be forced to watch while he dies a second time.”