idea was exciting, but there was one massive reason he didn’t want to leave Britain.
“What about us?” he asked.
Lowa grimaced. That, thought Ragnall, was not the response he’d hoped for.
“I like you very much and I enjoyed our time together, but it was a fling, Ragnall, just a fling. I’m sorry.”
She looked sad and vulnerable. Underneath her iron skin, she was just a person like him. She hadn’t wanted to kill his family, Zadar had made her. She had been in love with Dug, and he’d used magic to make her betray him. She still thought it had been her own decision. She was hurt and consumed by self-loathing. He knew what betrayal felt like from the side of the betrayer, and he didn’t want her feeling like that because he’d tricked her. He had to tell her.
“You should know something, before I go to Rome. I have some druid powers. Nothing like Spring or Drustan, but I’m learning.”
He paused. Lowa was looking at him, seemingly unmoved by his revelation, waiting for him to get to the point. He couldn’t hold her gaze.
“On Mearhold I put a spell on you to fall out of love with Dug and fall in love with me. It was my magic that made you betray him.”
Lowa looked at him for a long while. He looked at his hands and waited, half expecting her to fly at him and ram the arrow that she was holding through his eye. He deserved it.
“So you raped me,” she said eventually.
“What!? No!” It was worse than an arrow through the eye, because as soon as she said it, he knew it was true.
“You made me have sex with you against my will?”
“…Yes.”
“What else would you call that?”
She was right, but she wasn’t right. It was hardly like grabbing someone by the hair on a village raid and dragging them behind a hut. It wasn’t the same at all. “But there was no violence,” he stammered. “You enjoyed it!”
Lowa sat quietly, letting him stew in the misery of realisation. She was right. It was just as bad as if he’d forced her against her will, because he had forced her against her will. The only difference was that he’d used magic instead of a knife point. It didn’t sound so bad in all the stories, but it was. “Love potions”, the bards called them.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I forgive you.” She was half smiling.
“But I…”
“It’s done, it’s over. Don’t tear yourself to bits about it. Just don’t do it again, and make sure you do a good job for me in Rome.”
“I will! I’ll do the best job. I’ll … leave no Rome unturned!”
“While you’re there, you might use some of that magic on your sense of humour.”
He looked at her. She seemed happy. Was he really forgiven? She was a wonderful woman. He couldn’t blame her for following Zadar’s orders, especially when it was her who had ended the tyrant’s rule. And how could he not forgive her when she forgave him so easily? He would do the best possible job for her in Rome, and when he came back he’d be older and wiser and very much his own man, and maybe she’d want him again? Although, after he’d met the women of Rome, would he still want her?
Part Two
Rome and Britain
Chapter 1
R agnall put himself away, but continued to stare down at the pool he’d urinated into. A small shark broke the surface then flashed away. Three small rays flapped past like lazy birds. A spider crab, golden torchlight gleaming off its spiky red shell, picked its way delicately along the tank’s rocky floor.
“This is nothing!” A man arrived next to him, hoisted his purple-fringed toga and urinated with a stream that would have pleased a horse. “I take it you’ve never been to one of Licinius Lucullus’s parties?”
“I haven’t,” Ragnall replied, wondering where to look.
“Shame! The man is building some disgustingly eastern gardens in Rome – they’re going to be simply marvellous, they really are – but his horribly over-the-top showpiece is his villa at Naples. It’s not far
“What about us?” he asked.
Lowa grimaced. That, thought Ragnall, was not the response he’d hoped for.
“I like you very much and I enjoyed our time together, but it was a fling, Ragnall, just a fling. I’m sorry.”
She looked sad and vulnerable. Underneath her iron skin, she was just a person like him. She hadn’t wanted to kill his family, Zadar had made her. She had been in love with Dug, and he’d used magic to make her betray him. She still thought it had been her own decision. She was hurt and consumed by self-loathing. He knew what betrayal felt like from the side of the betrayer, and he didn’t want her feeling like that because he’d tricked her. He had to tell her.
“You should know something, before I go to Rome. I have some druid powers. Nothing like Spring or Drustan, but I’m learning.”
He paused. Lowa was looking at him, seemingly unmoved by his revelation, waiting for him to get to the point. He couldn’t hold her gaze.
“On Mearhold I put a spell on you to fall out of love with Dug and fall in love with me. It was my magic that made you betray him.”
Lowa looked at him for a long while. He looked at his hands and waited, half expecting her to fly at him and ram the arrow that she was holding through his eye. He deserved it.
“So you raped me,” she said eventually.
“What!? No!” It was worse than an arrow through the eye, because as soon as she said it, he knew it was true.
“You made me have sex with you against my will?”
“…Yes.”
“What else would you call that?”
She was right, but she wasn’t right. It was hardly like grabbing someone by the hair on a village raid and dragging them behind a hut. It wasn’t the same at all. “But there was no violence,” he stammered. “You enjoyed it!”
Lowa sat quietly, letting him stew in the misery of realisation. She was right. It was just as bad as if he’d forced her against her will, because he had forced her against her will. The only difference was that he’d used magic instead of a knife point. It didn’t sound so bad in all the stories, but it was. “Love potions”, the bards called them.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I forgive you.” She was half smiling.
“But I…”
“It’s done, it’s over. Don’t tear yourself to bits about it. Just don’t do it again, and make sure you do a good job for me in Rome.”
“I will! I’ll do the best job. I’ll … leave no Rome unturned!”
“While you’re there, you might use some of that magic on your sense of humour.”
He looked at her. She seemed happy. Was he really forgiven? She was a wonderful woman. He couldn’t blame her for following Zadar’s orders, especially when it was her who had ended the tyrant’s rule. And how could he not forgive her when she forgave him so easily? He would do the best possible job for her in Rome, and when he came back he’d be older and wiser and very much his own man, and maybe she’d want him again? Although, after he’d met the women of Rome, would he still want her?
Part Two
Rome and Britain
Chapter 1
R agnall put himself away, but continued to stare down at the pool he’d urinated into. A small shark broke the surface then flashed away. Three small rays flapped past like lazy birds. A spider crab, golden torchlight gleaming off its spiky red shell, picked its way delicately along the tank’s rocky floor.
“This is nothing!” A man arrived next to him, hoisted his purple-fringed toga and urinated with a stream that would have pleased a horse. “I take it you’ve never been to one of Licinius Lucullus’s parties?”
“I haven’t,” Ragnall replied, wondering where to look.
“Shame! The man is building some disgustingly eastern gardens in Rome – they’re going to be simply marvellous, they really are – but his horribly over-the-top showpiece is his villa at Naples. It’s not far
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