"Pinecones to a forest?" They'd tumbled from a cotton bag. Valeria sat straight, looking away in humiliation.
"Leave her be, or you'll be crucified to the crows, you barbarian bastard…" It was Clodius, his threat choked off as his captor's dagger pressed against his throat.
Their leader's gaze flickered. "Kill the noisy one."
"No!" The plea escaped from Valeria before she realized it. "Don't harm him!"
"Ah." The painted man held up his arm to stay the execution. "She speaks! And to beg for another! Is this weakling your lover?"
She was shocked. "Certainly not!"
"Your brother?"
"My military escort!"
"Hardly an escort worth having."
She glanced around, yearning for Galba's ominous presence. "Listen. Roman cavalry are nearby and are returning soon. If you kill us, they'll hunt you all the harder. Just take what you want and go."
The brigand pretended to consider this. "And what is it you think I want, here in my forest on the soil of my ancestors?"
"This is Rome's forest," she retorted, more bravely than she felt. "Near my home, not yours."
"Really? And what home is that?"
"The home of the Petriana cavalry."
He seemed unimpressed. "Well, this forest is the home of Dagda, the great and good god who walked here long before any Roman saw it. Dagda still tends it for my people and dislikes all trespassers. The forest gives us all we need, and so there's nothing of yours I really want."
"Then let us go."
"Except, perhaps, these pinecones." He held one up. "Curious."
"Those are stone pine from the Mediterranean, brought as a present to my future husband."
"And why does he desire forest litter?"
"He's an initiate of Mithras. Those cones are burned for protection and immortality. They're sacred to Roman officers."
"Immortality?" He seemed intrigued. "And who is this future husband of yours?"
"Marcus Flavius himself, praefectus of the Petriana cavalry."
The man laughed. "Praefectus! Then he has more men than I do, and I have need of more protection than him." He hauled the bag of cones out of the cart. "I'll keep these for myself, and leave everything else, I think"-he looked around, as if considering-"except… yourself." His eye came to rest on her. "A Roman beauty to grace our tribe." He winked at the other men.
Valeria drew her cloak around herself, clutching the sea-horse brooch.
"You understand my invitation?"
"I'd never go with a barbarian like you! I'd rather die! If that's what you want, then kill me and be done with it."
The barbarian laughed. "Kill you? Besides these pinecones and their gift of immortality, you're the only thing of real value here."
She looked wildly around for a weapon or avenue of escape. Her rape would not just be hideous in itself; it would annul her betrothal and ruin her father and fiance's careers.
The bandit looked over at Clodius. "Offal of Rome! We're going to borrow your horse!" Then he whistled. Another barbarian appeared, leading Titus's horse as well. Valeria groaned. Was the soldier already dead?
"The lady and I will make our departure sitting down," he announced to the others. Then he turned to Valeria. "I hear you like to ride, lady."
"That's not true."
"Which horse do you choose, you who wishes to gallop?"
"I have no such wish! I can't ride a horse!"
"I'm told you admire the animals and dream of riding them like a man. Which will you ride with me to my castle in Caledonia, my fort upon a hill?"
"I'll hunt you with dogs if you take her, Britlet scum!" It was Clodius again, lifting his head out of the dirt. The man kneeling on his chest growled and drew his dagger lightly over the tribune's throat, tracing a line of blood. The young tribune winced, his head falling back in frustration.
"Speak again, little fool," the chieftain warned, "and Luca will take off your head."
Clodius opened his mouth and then closed it.
The barbarian reached to grasp Valeria's forearm, his grip like iron, and hauled her off the cart.
"I'm not dressed for riding," she pleaded, hating the way her voice was breaking. Where was her courage?
"We Celts have a remedy for that." Without warning he jabbed his dagger at her legs, and her stola and tunic were rent in two, exposing her knees and a glimpse of her thighs. The cool air kissed them. "There, Celtic trousers. Now climb up there."
She felt faint. "Please kill me instead."
"Climb up, or I'll put your slave over a fire and roast her heart! I'll skin your young escort there until he screams for his mother!"
Valeria looked at him in horror.
"Ride with me, and I let the others go!"
Shakily, she grasped two of the four horns of Titus's saddle. The animal was immense, and she realized that in the past she'd always been boosted upward. How to climb aboard? As if reading her thoughts, her abductor grasped her legs and bottom and swung her upward with the most casual indecency, plopping her between the horns as if she were a child. "Push your butt against the two horns behind you and tuck your thighs under the two in front," he instructed.
"I know what to do," she muttered. She felt humiliated, her legs splayed like a man. Yet she also felt more secure. No wonder the cavalry rode so confidently! She could feel the animal's rough hair against her bare calves and smell its warm heat. It twitched uneasily beneath her. Letting go with one hand, she fingered her own hair at her shoulder, feeling her brooch.
Her abductor vaulted up onto the mount of Clodius and grabbed Valeria's bridle. "We meet where we planned," he told his men. They nodded. Savia was bawling, Clodius cursing impotently. The barbarian began to lead the woman away.
Suddenly Valeria kicked her mount hard, and the horse bolted ahead to prance alongside its companion. Her abductor looked at her curiously. She'd stealthily unhooked the brooch holding her cape, and now she let the garment slide off her shoulders like a sheet, the folds catching a moment on her mount's tail and his eye distracted by its seductive drop. Leaning forward as if to speak, Valeria suddenly jabbed, plunging the sea-horse brooch into the flank of the brigand's stolen horse. The animal reared, screaming, and in an instant the arrogant barbarian was thrown, landing on the ground in a tangle of weaponry. Even as he scrambled up, clawing for his sword, Clodius's frightened steed crashed away. Meanwhile Valeria jerked Titus's horse around and charged back to the lane, riding over a man who tried to block her and thundering madly ahead toward the promise of the distant fort, expecting an arrow in her back at any moment. The lane twisted, and she was gone.
"Morrigan's damnation!" The barbarian's sword was out but useless as he watched Valeria gallop away, his expression furious but grudgingly respectful. "That woman has the fire of Boudicca and the guile of Cartimandua." It was a compliment to compare her to the Celtic queen who'd led a bloody revolt against the Romans and another who'd saved her people by wily collaboration. He looked at his men. "It was a smart trick, and a brave one."
"She's gotten away," the one called Luca complained.
"We'll pursue on foot. The Attacotti have the endurance to run down a horse."
His men groaned.
"Chances are she'll spill."
"What about the others?" a companion asked.
"With the girl gone, we'll tie them and take them-"
"No!" cried Savia.
Then there was a birdcall again, sharp and urgent. The barbarians froze. They could hear a low rumble of approaching horses.
"Romans, Arden."
There was no hesitation. The barbarian whistled just once, and the brigands melted into the trees, vanishing as quickly as they'd appeared. Only their leader hesitated, stooping to scoop the seahorse brooch from the mud. Then he too was gone. Only a rocking of disturbed branches showed where the Celts had been.