Chapter Twelve
He snapped his fingers and my two guards stepped up. “Come, let us go to the garden and see what you can do.”
“I’m not a performing monkey,” I retorted.
His face fell in surprise, before his lips tilted up at the corners and his stormy eyes brightened into an attractive shine. “Perhaps, Druid, but you shall perform for me.”
The guards stepped closer, but I held my hand up to stop their approach, catching a flicker of fear in their eyes. I almost giggled—almost—but I managed to restrain myself. Did they think I was going to smote them down with a wave of my hand? I wasn’t God. I couldn’t rain fire and brimstone down on us all or release a plague of locusts. Although, I would if I could; anything to get me and the other girls out of here. I wanted to get back down to them, a desperate urge to get back into those training circles to see what I could do burned deep in the pit of my stomach. Instead, I was up here playing a game of words with the Emperor of Rome.
Yay for me.
Still, I could be dead on those stones with Tristram’s arms wrapped around me. Or I could be in Queens with no clue of who I was.
Instead, I was here finding out the exceptional power I owned. Admittedly, I was captive, but you know, always look for the silver lining.
“I don’t need to be dragged anywhere.” I held the Emperor’s eye. “I can walk. I’m not running away.”
He bowed low, his lips curving into a handsome smile. Holding out an arm, he waited for me to take it. I slid my hand around his olive skin repressing the deep shudder in my soul. The strength of red in him was almost repellent. I’d never felt it even remotely that strong from Tristram. In fact, I’d never even got a glimmer of it, despite the fact my father had told me it was there. At the thought of Tristram, my heart pinched tight in my chest, but I forced it away. I’d be dead myself if I wasn’t careful. I allowed the Emperor to guide me into a sun-drenched garden. The air was sweet with fragrant plants, jasmine curved around iron arches.
“I must say, it’s nice to meet someone who isn’t ready to fight me,” he murmured, his hand landing gently over mine.
I would not be so sure, buddy.
“I’d imagine as the Emperor of Rome you have many enemies.”
He cast his eyes towards me. “More than you can imagine.” He sighed a little and it sounded incredibly human, which was the first time since I’d arrived I’d considered him so. He did have a hundred and ten girls captive in his basement; I wasn’t making rash judgement calls. “Nobody wanted me as Emperor, but I knew it would always be me. When Caligula, that disgusting swine, was murdered, I knew they would come for me.”
“Was it your destiny?” I asked, with genuine interest.
He nodded, his gaze far away. “Since I was born, I’ve known about the power of the old ways. It was just within me, a desire to capture the power. Even as a child it ruled my heart and mind.”
“You aren’t that old, are you?”
He inclined his head a little but didn’t answer. “Sometimes I feel older than I am, as though all of this I’ve done before.”
I swallowed hard. I knew what he meant. I had done this before, but we were in the first century, how far back did he go?
“I come from a small isle,” I kept my tone neutral, pleasing almost, “We don’t know much of your ways. I don’t even know your name; despite the fact I am here at your… request.”
“Claudius.” He paused our walk down the stone pathways and turned to face me, dipping me another courteous bow. “But you can call me Tiberius.”
Had any of the other girls received this treatment? If not, why me? I hadn’t shown him anything yet.
“Tiberius?” I nodded. “I can do that.”
His hand slid down my arm, his fingers knotting with mine. “You don’t mind, do you?” He nodded to our hands as he started our walk again.
“No.” I forced the word out. Instead of running and screaming, I turned my attention back to the garden. Beautiful and fragrant, it seemed perfect, but when I peered a little closer the blooms were slightly dull, the leaves dry. “Don’t you have an irrigation system within the garden?” I asked. Some things it seemed I had remembered in history classes, including the Roman plumbing system; that and the fact that by the middle ages people were back to wells and pissing in pots.
“We do.” His eyes sparked with curiosity. “How did you know?”
Oh shit. He’s going to think my knowledge was some sign of my power. How would a Druid from Caledonia know such things?
“I asked a lot of questions on my journey here.”
He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Augustus was very charmed with you. Your trip must have been more enjoyable than a lot of the other women I have drawn here hoping they have the power I need.”
“But they don’t.” It wasn’t a question. “Why don’t you let them go?”
He smiled, just small, but it spoke volumes. “I have a theory.”
“A theory? Surely the Emperor of the Roman Empire has more on his mind than simple theories?”
“It a feeling I have, have had since my childhood. If I can draw those with the power I want towards me, then my own power will be immense.”
“But they don’t have any.”
He shrugged his shoulders, his tanned skin catching the sunlight. “But what if they all have elements of power, no matter how weak and when I introduce them to the one who holds it all, maybe it will become stronger?” He was thoughtful now, talking almost to himself. “She is the key.”
He snapped his attention back onto me. “But you are correct, Druid. We do
