I chuckled at the thought of Julian, the famous Roman conqueror of legions, mending a barn.
He and his new wife, along with his servants, now lived on the outskirts, on land I’d bought in secret many years ago. Grandfather and I had been acquiring property in various provinces for this very reason—the need for an escape and a hideaway.
“This emperor,” my grandfather had told me one night as we sat alone under the moonlight of his terrace. “He could be the death of us all.”
There had been a public execution earlier in the day of three senators—one he’d known since childhood—who Igniculus claimed had committed treason. I’d never even remembered their trial or the details of their crimes. Only their deaths. For Caesar had demanded all patricians be present at their executions. They’d been disemboweled by his praetorians in half-skin, their heads mounted on spikes on the Wall of Traitors.
“We need to plan for an escape, my son,” Grandfather had said.
So we had. And yet, now we were planning for a battle. I’d never confessed any of my covert business to Euphemia, or that I didn’t actually believe that Julian was a traitor, as I’d been spouting in the forum. She’d guessed it.
My man Koska sought her out when we needed someone to get missives out to Julian across the Roman Empire. Messages that could get me killed if I were found out.
So Koska did quite a bit of digging in the Aventine and was directed by more than one trusted friend to Euphemia. The first time I walked into her shop, she took one look at me and said, “Ah, the liar of the forum.”
I’d asked, “How do you know I lie?”
She grinned, her crinkled eyes glittering. “I’m a witch. I know these things.”
“You’re also a trader of secrets, from what I’ve discovered.”
She’d tossed her head back and laughed then said, “Come on in then, dragon. Let’s trade secrets.”
Confiding in her had been the right decision. Now, she had Doro designing weapons for when the day came to fight. And she vowed she knew there were many plebeians in the Aventine who’d be willing to fight when the time came.
But that time wasn’t yet. There was still much to be done. Emperor Igniculus was a cunning bastard, and he had many Roman dragons of powerful houses on his side, including Valerius. My gut twisted yet again at the thought of Lela.
“Bad news?” asked Euphemia.
“No.” I folded the paper and tucked it in the sash of my tunic. “All is well.”
“Your expression says otherwise. You smiled, but then your face went dark.”
“I was thinking of someone else.”
“Someone?” She arched a black brow and grinned. “You mean Lela. How do you know the mystical Lela?”
“How do you know that I know her?” I asked.
“Ha. You begged time alone with her in my shop, your eyes followed her like a besotted boy. And few people can look past the monstrosity she wears on her face. But you see past it, don’t you, Tribune?”
Rather than address her provoking insinuations, because they were all true, I asked a question of my own. “What do you know about her?”
She eyed me for a moment, likely wondering if she could trust me with any information about her.
“I know that she has been the property of Consul Valerius for over three years. I know that she’s been foully misused by him.”
A low rumble vibrated up my chest, my dragon stirring andburning behind my eyes. Euphemia didn’t even flinch, holding my gaze carefully.
“I know that she’s too strong to take her own life to escape her prison.” She paused. “Though she’s thought about it. And she’s tried to run away, and he punished her dearly for it.”
I was going to enjoy killing Valerius.
“I also know that she has very powerful magic inside her, though she keeps it locked and hidden. For now.”
“Mmm.” I nodded. “I’ve heard of such women, touched by the gods.” Julian had told me his Malina was one of them, though I’d never seen proof of it myself. But I’d seen the scar Valerius wore that he said Lela had given him. And I’d felt the presence of magic as she sang that haunting song in the temple and when she’d touched her blood to my skin. Euphemia was right. She possessed magic. Bestowed by a goddess, she’d said.
“Pssht.” Euphemia waved a hand in the air. “The gods couldn’t care less about the women in this world. But a goddess.” She pointed a finger upward and squinted her dark eyes. “Minerva. She has bestowed power among some human women, yes.”
