Dar ?i dupa a vetrei caldura.”
I chimed in at once, memory and magic infusing my soul.
“Nu-l vede pe lupul hain
Pândind în crângul maiestuos,
?i nici nu-i aude pasul viclean,
Doar vântul prin funzi?ul gros.”
We gazed at the fire across the room and at each other, singing the song of home, the one our grandmother taught us, the one that warned monsters of the world to beware if they did a daughter harm.
It was lovely and sad and wonderful.
When we sang the last line, I clutched my sister’s hand tightly, wrapped in her love and that of our mother, our grandmother, and all of those women who came before them, singing this song to their daughters, instilling strength through a bond no man or monster could sever.
We remained quiet, in perfect harmony simply being in one another’s presence. I’d nearly given up on the gods, but in that moment, I felt blessed.
A short, stout woman moved about the kitchen on the farther side of the room. Stefanos sat near the hearth behind Julian, listening to the men while petting Amica’s head in his lap, her eyes closed. There was no sign of the man named Ruskus.
“Believe it or not,” I told my sister, “I wish now I was back in Rome. There was a woman I knew who had the sight similar to Bunica.” I smiled now at the memory of the reading she’d given me using her chicken Cassiopeia’s blood. “I can’t believe it but Euphemia had told me I’d have a long journey and a reunion. I never imagined this.”
“Euphemia?” asked Malina excitedly. “The pharmakopoles?”
“Yes. You know her?”
“I do.” She laughed. “My friend Rhea who’d been a servant with me in Ciprian’s house brought me to her when I needed a strong spell. I can’t believe you know her.”
Then something occurred to me. “When Ciprian’s house was burned, did Rhea escape?”
“I believe so. Along with her man Doro.”
“Is Rhea thin, blond, and pretty? Doro was a big man, dark hair, olive-skinned?”
“Yes. How do you know?”
Smiling, I told her, “They were living with Euphemia as her new assistants in the shop. Rhea was going by the name of Thea.”
Malina dropped her head back and sighed. “Oh, how wonderful. I am so happy to hear this.”
“The lamb stew is ready, if anyone is hungry,” called the woman in the kitchen.
“Come. Let’s eat.”
We joined the men taking seats at the rough-hewn but sturdy table.
“Kara, this is my sister, Lela,” Malina introduced me to the stern-faced woman.
She paused and nodded. “You are welcome here,” she said, turning and muttering, “Though I don’t know where you’ll sleep.”
“Ruskus stays at Agatha’s more than he does here,” said Malina. “She can have his bed.”
“And what of the tribune?” asked Kara, dipping her ladle into the steaming pot of lamb stew she’d taken from the hearth and set on a sideboard to serve.
“Don’t worry about me, Kara,” said Trajan, walking up behind me and lowering his mouth to my ear. “If I’m lucky, you’ll let me share that bed with you.”
I elbowed him back then took a bowl of stew from Kara and found a seat next to my sister. Trajan smirked as he sat across from me.
