The Bow of Heaven - Book I: The Other Al - By Andrew Levkoff Page 0,63
the moment Crassus was off his horse she was in his arms. Suddenly, she tilted her head back, having got a good whiff of him, pushed him to arms’ length and saw the state of him in the growing light: charred, blackened and bruised. To our horror but his delight she thumped his chest with her fist, raising a small cloud of dust and ash. Sabina made to accompany him but he put up his hand.
“There are others,” he said, nodding at me, “that are more in need of your skills. When you are finished with Alexander, you may attend me in my quarters.” They began walking to the house, at which point Tertulla immediately noticed his limp. She punched him again. “Enough,” he cried, raising his index finger like a beaten gladiator. “Mercy!”
***
Ludovicus leapt from his mount and raced to meet his lover and also mine, throwing his arm around the healer and smiling broadly at her daughter. Livia would have run to me, but her mother’s grip was firm. It would be up to me, then, to go to them.
“Salve Sabina, Salve Livia.”
“I have been waiting for you ...” Sabina said coolly.
“As have I,” Livia said, her voice one part anticipation, two parts defiance. Ah, the politics of love: when affection is wielded like a club to gain independence from a disapproving family.
“...for almost three months,” Sabina finished.
Ludovicus, never one to fret over subtext, barreled along excitedly. “You should have seen our lad here!” he said, clapping me on the back. “He was Mercury himself. Sped into that flaming apartment house as if it was two-for-one day at the brothel. Your pardon, of course. I didn’t mean ...”
“Thank you, Ludovicus. You neglect to mention that I was following dominus.”
“Well, yes of course, a stunning bit of work by the master as well. You’ll both owe Vulcan a couple of goats for letting you out of that one!”
“Why didn’t anyone else try to help?” Livia asked hotly.
“Orders, miss, orders.”
Livia turned to me. “You disobeyed a direct order from dominus?” she asked as if running into a burning building held the lesser risk.
“Not so much disobeyed as ducked under.”
“You might have been killed. He might kill you yet!”
“Save me the trouble,” Sabina said, not quite under her breath.
“Mother!”
“Did you hear they pulled an old man from the insula?” Ludovicus asked. “By Vesta’s flaming toenails, he’d’ve burned to a cinder for sure, if not for those two.”
“Sweetheart,” Sabina said gently. “You’re not helping. Why not see to the horses and I’ll find you later?”
Before he could either answer or leave, Tessa ran up to us. “I just heard,” she said breathlessly. “Gratitude to you both for rescuing dominus!” First, she threw her arms about me, then Ludovicus. Jealousy can be measured in fractions smaller than a thousandth of an hour, and Tessa’s hug of the battalion commander lasted just one of those slivers too long. It went unnoticed by everyone, except Sabina.
Ludovicus replied, “’Fraid you’ve got it turned around, Tess. I didn’t save anyone.”
“Don’t you need to freshen your daisies, Tess?” Sabina asked. Ludovicus colored, looking like a man with something to hide trying to look like a man with nothing to hide. “We’re trying to have a conversation here.”
“Well. No need to get snippy, I’m sure. I’ll be off then. The flower beds need watering anyway, don’t they?”
As soon as Tessa was out of earshot, Sabina said, “Look, daughter, let’s just have out with it, right now. Are you still a virgin?”
“Of course I am!” Livia exclaimed.
“I think I’m done standing up for awhile,” I said, suddenly gone all atotter. Ludovicus thrust an arm out to steady me.
“Fine. Livia, attend to your chores. We’ll speak more on this later.” The moment she was released, Livia ran to me and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry. You will always be my foolish, brave centurion,” she whispered in my ear, then ran off before her mother could fling any more verbal darts at her. Sabina called for a litter and very soon I was being carried off to her office.
“These should heal fairly quickly,” Sabina said tonelessly, spreading boar grease over both my feet, including the sandals. Then she went to her collection of knives and began sharpening one that looked to me to be already honed to deadly perfection. An image of how she had dealt with Pío flashed before me. I lay on her examination table, feeling not a little vulnerable.
“You should have come to me,” she said flatly, cutting the