In an instant, the Romans were taken prisoner.
'Resist, and you die,' the first man warned as he stepped around the mule to examine the two women clutching each other.
His movements were like a panther. Who was he? Tall and hideously disguised, Valeria thought, his long hair tangled and his face-while clean-shaven in the Roman manner-painted half black and half green. Leaves were caught in his hair and his boots, and the Briton trousers tucked into them were dark with mud. What gave him humanity were startling blue eyes that revealed an alert, confident intelligence. A long barbarian sword was slung across his back, and a knife almost as long as a Roman gladius hung on his belt, but he had not bothered to draw either. He wore no armor. His tunic, half opened, revealed a tanned chest ridged with muscle. His voice was quiet, his Latin educated.
'You're a long way from home, fine lady.'
She looked hopelessly for help. Clodius was pinned on his back, his assailant astride him. Cassius was having his wrists bound, a brigand murmuring in the gladiator's ear. Savia was staring wide-eyed at a spear point aimed at one of her pendulous breasts. Tales of bloodthirsty gods and creeping barbarians had come true in an instant.
'But you've brought your things, I see,' their chieftain went on, rifling through the baggage as if he owned it. His knife came out to slit her bundles. There was a cascade of golden jewelry. A hand mirror. A vial of perfume. An onyx figurine of a rearing horse. Woolen socks, a game board, a cookbook. Her linen shift, embroidered for her wedding night, lifted mockingly to display its translucence. Finally he stopped in puzzlement.
'Pinecones to a forest?' They'd tumbled from a cotton bag. Valeria sat straight, looking away in humiliation.
'Leave her be, or you'll be crucified to the crows, you barbarian bastard…' It was Clodius, his threat choked off as his captor's dagger pressed against his throat.
Their leader's gaze flickered. 'Kill the noisy one.'
'No!' The plea escaped from Valeria before she realized it. 'Don't harm him!'
'Ah.' The painted man held up his arm to stay the execution. 'She speaks! And to beg for another! Is this weakling your lover?'
She was shocked. 'Certainly not!'
'Your brother?'
'My military escort!'
'Hardly an escort worth having.'
She glanced around, yearning for Galba's ominous presence. 'Listen. Roman cavalry are nearby and are returning soon. If you kill us, they'll hunt you all the harder. Just take what you want and go.'
The brigand pretended to consider this. 'And what is it you think I want, here in my forest on the soil of my ancestors?'
'This is Rome's forest,' she retorted, more bravely than she felt. 'Near my home, not yours.'
'Really? And what home is that?'
'The home of the Petriana cavalry.'
He seemed unimpressed. 'Well, this forest is the home of Dagda, the great and good god who walked here long before any Roman saw it. Dagda still tends it for my people and dislikes all trespassers. The forest gives us all we need, and so there's nothing of yours I really want.'
'Then let us go.'
'Except, perhaps, these pinecones.' He held one up. 'Curious.'
'Those are stone pine from the Mediterranean, brought as a present to my future husband.'
'And why does he desire forest litter?'
'He's an initiate of Mithras. Those cones are burned for protection and immortality. They're sacred to Roman officers.'
'Immortality?' He seemed intrigued. 'And who is this future husband of yours?'
'Marcus Flavius himself, praefectus of the Petriana cavalry.'
The man laughed. 'Praefectus! Then he has more men than I do, and I have need of more protection than him.' He hauled the bag of cones out of the cart. 'I'll keep these for myself, and leave everything else, I think'-he looked around, as if considering-'except… yourself.' His eye came to rest on her. 'A Roman beauty to grace our tribe.' He winked at the other men.
Valeria drew her cloak around herself, clutching the sea-horse brooch.
'You understand my invitation?'
'I'd never go with a barbarian like you! I'd rather die! If that's what you want, then kill me and be done with it.'
The barbarian laughed. 'Kill you? Besides these pinecones and their gift of immortality, you're the only thing of real value here.'
She looked wildly around for a weapon or avenue of escape. Her rape would not just be hideous in itself; it would annul her betrothal and ruin her father and fiance's careers.
The bandit looked over at Clodius. 'Offal of Rome! We're going to borrow your horse!' Then he whistled. Another barbarian appeared, leading Titus's horse as well. Valeria groaned. Was the soldier already dead?
'The lady and I will make our departure sitting down,' he announced to the others. Then he turned to Valeria. 'I hear you like to ride, lady.'
'That's not true.'
'Which horse do you choose, you who wishes to gallop?'
'I have no such wish! I can't ride a horse!'
'I'm told you admire the animals and dream of riding them like a man. Which will you ride with me to my castle in Caledonia, my fort upon a hill?'
'I'll hunt you with dogs if you take her, Britlet scum!' It was Clodius again, lifting his head out of the dirt. The man kneeling on his chest growled and drew his dagger lightly over the tribune's throat, tracing a line of blood. The young tribune winced, his head falling back in frustration.
'Speak again, little fool,' the chieftain warned, 'and Luca will take off your head.'
Clodius opened his mouth and then closed it.
The barbarian reached to grasp Valeria's forearm, his grip like iron, and hauled her off the cart.
'I'm not dressed for riding,' she pleaded, hating the way her voice was breaking. Where was her courage?
'We Celts have a remedy for that.' Without warning he jabbed his dagger at her legs, and her stola and tunic were rent in two, exposing her knees and a glimpse of her thighs. The cool air kissed them. 'There, Celtic trousers. Now climb up there.'
She felt faint. 'Please kill me instead.'
'Climb up, or I'll put your slave over a fire and roast her heart! I'll skin your young escort there until he screams for his mother!'
Valeria looked at him in horror.
'Ride with me, and I let the others go!'
Shakily, she grasped two of the four horns of Titus's saddle. The animal was immense, and she realized that in the past she'd always been boosted upward. How to climb aboard? As if reading her thoughts, her abductor grasped her legs and bottom and swung her upward with the most casual indecency, plopping her between the horns as if she were a child. 'Push your butt against the two horns behind you and tuck your thighs under the two in front,' he instructed.
'I know what to do,' she muttered. She felt humiliated, her legs splayed like a man. Yet she also felt more secure. No wonder the cavalry rode so confidently! She could feel the animal's rough hair against her bare calves and smell its warm heat. It twitched uneasily beneath her. Letting go with one hand, she fingered her own hair at her shoulder, feeling her brooch.
Her abductor vaulted up onto the mount of Clodius and grabbed Valeria's bridle. 'We meet where we planned,' he told his men. They nodded. Savia was bawling, Clodius cursing impotently. The barbarian began to lead the woman away.
Suddenly Valeria kicked her mount hard, and the horse bolted ahead to prance alongside its companion. Her abductor looked at her curiously. She'd stealthily unhooked the brooch holding her cape, and now she let the
