you will be put to the sword. The Roman garrison has been taken—only I can protect you now." On the first floor of the villa, Caddaric paused, alert for any sign of movement. The sight of the dead servants touched him not; his concern was purely for the Roman witch of his dreams. He had to find her and place her under guard until he found Catus Decianus—for her sake as well as his own. Minutes passed with no response and Caddaric grew angry. "Jilana, come to me! Do not be so willing to court your own destruction."
"Better death at the hands of my enemies than shame," Jilana whispered. She dropped the bar into place across the door as quietly as possible and ran to the second entrance to her room, a door which opened onto the colonnaded gallery at the back of the house. The other bedchambers opened onto the gallery as well, but Jilana shrugged off the thought. The centurion—the Briton— had not left the lower floor, so she still had time for flight.
Once on the gallery, Jilana hid behind one of the columns and peered cautiously at the courtyard below. No bodies here—praise the gods!—nor any sign of movement. A feeble ray of light came from one of the stable windows to her right and a spark of hope flared in Jilana's heart. Surely her family was there—they had managed to escape the villa and now were planning a way to find refuge from the senseless slaughter. Keeping a watchful eye on the courtyard, Jilana unstrapped her sandals and slipped them from her feet. If any Iceni still prowled the villa and its grounds, no sound must give her away. Silent as a wraith she ran from pillar to pillar, the sound of her own breath roaring in her ears. The gallery's staircase loomed out of the darkness and Jilana offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Juno, the guardian of women.
"Jilana." A hand on her shoulder spun Jilana around and she came face to face with the Briton. "I told you there was no escape. Now come—"
With a despairing cry, Jilana raised her arm and swung, striking Caddaric full on the side of the face with her sandals. Caddaric stumbled backward, regaining his balance just as Jilana reached the bottom of the stairs. A low growl escaped his lips as Caddaric charged after her. Her heart pounding, Jilana raced toward the stable, all too aware that the Briton was coming closer with each passing step. Still, she was ahead of the Briton, and if all else failed, once in the stable she could find a weapon with which to defend herself. Jilana glanced over her shoulder to determine how far the Briton lagged behind. The next moment her foot connected painfully with some object on the ground and Jilana found herself sprawled on,the paved courtyard.
"Little fool!" Caddaric reached down and pulled Jilana to her feet.
"Let me go," Jilana pleaded. There was no escape for her now, for the Briton had twisted both her hands behind her back and was holding her tightly against his chest, but some primitive instinct forced her to ask for her freedom. A sob caught in her throat when, glancing down, she saw the body of the gardener. Raising terrified eyes to the Briton's grim face Jilana whispered, "If I am to be spared, as you say, then why not free me? No one need know! Allow me a horse and by morning I will be far away."
"Nay. I am ordered to bring you to Queen Boadicea." Tears slipped from her eyes and Caddaric steeled himself against the tug of his heart. "Even if I could free you, I would not. As a Roman, alone in Iceni territory, you would be killed by the first warrior who stumbled upon you."
Jilana shook her head miserably. "Why are you doing this? My father was ever kind to your people. Why have you killed the servants and my family?"
Caddaric's face darkened. "Are you so lacking in wisdom that you cannot guess what is happening, Roman? 'Tis not your villa alone which has been invaded." Jilana shook her head once again, this time in confusion, and Caddaric cursed softly. "The Iceni are in revolt; by first light
"Better death at the hands of my enemies than shame," Jilana whispered. She dropped the bar into place across the door as quietly as possible and ran to the second entrance to her room, a door which opened onto the colonnaded gallery at the back of the house. The other bedchambers opened onto the gallery as well, but Jilana shrugged off the thought. The centurion—the Briton— had not left the lower floor, so she still had time for flight.
Once on the gallery, Jilana hid behind one of the columns and peered cautiously at the courtyard below. No bodies here—praise the gods!—nor any sign of movement. A feeble ray of light came from one of the stable windows to her right and a spark of hope flared in Jilana's heart. Surely her family was there—they had managed to escape the villa and now were planning a way to find refuge from the senseless slaughter. Keeping a watchful eye on the courtyard, Jilana unstrapped her sandals and slipped them from her feet. If any Iceni still prowled the villa and its grounds, no sound must give her away. Silent as a wraith she ran from pillar to pillar, the sound of her own breath roaring in her ears. The gallery's staircase loomed out of the darkness and Jilana offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Juno, the guardian of women.
"Jilana." A hand on her shoulder spun Jilana around and she came face to face with the Briton. "I told you there was no escape. Now come—"
With a despairing cry, Jilana raised her arm and swung, striking Caddaric full on the side of the face with her sandals. Caddaric stumbled backward, regaining his balance just as Jilana reached the bottom of the stairs. A low growl escaped his lips as Caddaric charged after her. Her heart pounding, Jilana raced toward the stable, all too aware that the Briton was coming closer with each passing step. Still, she was ahead of the Briton, and if all else failed, once in the stable she could find a weapon with which to defend herself. Jilana glanced over her shoulder to determine how far the Briton lagged behind. The next moment her foot connected painfully with some object on the ground and Jilana found herself sprawled on,the paved courtyard.
"Little fool!" Caddaric reached down and pulled Jilana to her feet.
"Let me go," Jilana pleaded. There was no escape for her now, for the Briton had twisted both her hands behind her back and was holding her tightly against his chest, but some primitive instinct forced her to ask for her freedom. A sob caught in her throat when, glancing down, she saw the body of the gardener. Raising terrified eyes to the Briton's grim face Jilana whispered, "If I am to be spared, as you say, then why not free me? No one need know! Allow me a horse and by morning I will be far away."
"Nay. I am ordered to bring you to Queen Boadicea." Tears slipped from her eyes and Caddaric steeled himself against the tug of his heart. "Even if I could free you, I would not. As a Roman, alone in Iceni territory, you would be killed by the first warrior who stumbled upon you."
Jilana shook her head miserably. "Why are you doing this? My father was ever kind to your people. Why have you killed the servants and my family?"
Caddaric's face darkened. "Are you so lacking in wisdom that you cannot guess what is happening, Roman? 'Tis not your villa alone which has been invaded." Jilana shook her head once again, this time in confusion, and Caddaric cursed softly. "The Iceni are in revolt; by first light
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