Chapter 14 #2
Her gaze tracked down their sculptured form to his tanned feet.
His skin glowed in the flickering firelight.
He had cleansed himself as soon as the disposal of corpses was completed, washing with heated water before scraping his skin clean with the reverse edge of the dagger Garamaros had given him.
Sorcha’s heartbeat ratcheted higher. She averted her eyes and hurried to the area of the roundhouse screened to form her sleeping quarters. These disturbing feelings had to be quenched.
But by the time the first rays of the breaking dawn entered the doorway, rousing the household, Sorcha’s eyes burned and her head ached, not from too much ale but from lack of sleep.
It was a pity she couldn’t send Lucius with Garamaros to assist with negotiations, but that would be sending him back to the Roman Empire.
He must stay.
If Garamaros and his men were to return before the seas became treacherous with the oncoming winter, they must leave soon.
Preparation of the boat for the voyage took several days.
In that time, Sorcha selected a few outstanding pieces of silver plate to keep from among her bride goods.
For all she knew, they could be all that remained of the riches of her family home, now in the hands of the Roman army.
She repacked the remainder in cloth within its timber travelling chest. Garamaros would trade the contents for the goods the settlement needed.
Two days later, the whole settlement, except a few guards on duty at the entrance, lined the clifftop to farewell the sailors.
“Safe travel and good trading. We honor you. You hold the hopes and future of us all in your hands. May the gods protect you until your return,” Sorcha said in a voice that would be heard by everyone gathered to farewell them.
There were muffled sniffs from their womenfolk, who like Sorcha must fear they may never return.
Sorcha turned to Drustan and hugged him. “Listen to Garamaros at all times and protect him with your life, if necessary. Our mother needs him,” she whispered in his ear.
Her brother dipped his chin in understanding.
Garamaros turned to her. “Farewell, Sorcha,” He held out his arm to her to formally take his leave of her. He was being discrete about their real relationship in front of the villagers.
She gripped his hand before stepping forward to kiss both his checks.
“Safe journey, Garamaros. I will make offerings to the gods for the success of your journey and your safe passage home.” Tears prickled in her eyes.
Never had she imagined that she would feel such affection and regard for this man.
Garamaros smiled warmly at her. “I thank you, Sorcha for your good wishes. May you keep everyone here in peace and good health while we are gone.”
Sorcha nodded. She knew he really spoke of Alina.
Garamaros took Alina in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, showing no embarrassment at such a public declaration of his love. Her mother wholeheartedly returned his passion, and clung to him for a few moments after their kiss ended, gazing into his eyes.
Alina bore her imminent separation from Garamaros with the same quiet dignity she had exhibited throughout her twenty-odd-year marriage to Arthmael.
Sorcha wondered whether the separation, possibly for forever, was harder to bear now they were as husband and wife.
The idea that Garamaros might not return sat heavy in her chest, for several reasons.
Sorcha watched the boat raise its sails and head into the wide channel of the Hafren Sea, where the flow from the river to the northeast, combined with the ebbing tide, would rapidly carry them westward.
When the boat became just a speck on the wide expanse of water, Sorcha turned back to the settlement. The villagers had already returned to their tasks. Alina blinked away tears, and hurried towards the chieftain’s roundhouse.
Sorcha scanned the buildings and their neighboring gardens where the women grew vegetables and herbs.
Her gaze found Lucius laboring in one of the plots and stuck to him like iron to a magnet.
The muscles of his broad back rippled under his tunic with each scrape of his hoe.
His black hair lifted in the onshore breeze.
While Garamaros was away, communicating with their hostage would be her responsibility. She needed to face her duty head-on. Sorcha strode over to Lucius.
He halted his work when she stopped in front of him.
“Now that Garamaros has departed, you will answer to me. Do you understand? Cogitesne?” she said in his language.
He lifted the hoe upright and leant against it. “Ita.” he answered in his deep voice, giving his agreement, the corners of his mouth uplifted in a small smile.
What did that look mean? She wished he was easier to read. “You undertake not to leave?” she asked haltingly in his language.
He looked at her with his intense dark gaze, making her squirm like a new recruit. “Ita vero.”
The words meant ‘true’. Sorcha tipped her chin down in a brisk nod. “I’m glad we understand each other,” she muttered as she turned away.
“Quod si non est verum. If only that was true,” he murmured.
She turned back to him, and he took a step closer, letting the hoe fall to the ground behind him. He was standing close enough that the heat radiating from his body reached her.
She should step back… but she didn’t. She looked around—no one was near to see their exchange.
He held out his hand, palm upwards. “Let me show you how I would like us to understand each other.” His voice was like honey slathered on bread still warm from the oven. Its timbre vibrated down her spine and pooled warmth in her belly.
She stared into his dark eyes, deep like the night sky. Without thought, she reached towards him. His fingers curled around her hand and gently, firmly reeled her in.
She allowed him to close the distance without protest.
They stood torso to torso. She sensed the rise and fall of his chest with each of his shallow breaths. Her heart was galloping, blood pounding in her ears, as she wondered what he would do next.
His eyes focused on hers, Lucius raised Sorcha’s hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. Tingles radiated up her arm.
Intriguing.
She didn’t snatch her hand from his. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
It was as though he had mesmerized her with his eyes. Her breath came out in short puffs, her chest expanding in a matching staccato rhythm.
He rotated her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Still she made no move to stop him.
His lips imprinted a line of kisses along her forearm, where her sleeve had fallen back. She trembled in response. He leaned in further, his other hand going to her waist and kissed the base of her neck, lightly grazing her skin with his teeth.
A delicious tingle rippled downward, hardening her nipples. Sorcha gasped in surprise. Her mind tumbled over itself, shocked by her need to know what delightful response would he evoke next?
His lips trailed kisses over the sensitive skin of her neck. A light sea breeze chased over their lingering dampness, raising goosebumps on her skin. She tilted her head back to encourage his delicious attentions.
“Pulchra femina,” he murmured.
His quiet words meant nothing to her as they rolled off his tongue, but his actions consumed her senses.
The slide of his lips and tongue along her chin tantalized. Her body heated.
He paused his teasing kisses, and she swayed towards him.
“Dum spiro, spero,” he said, his eyes hooded.
What did he mean by ‘while I breathe, I hope’?
Lucius stared at her mouth. His lips were mere inches from hers. He lowered his head and his lips brushed hers.
Her lips parted in anticipation.
His mouth met hers again, this time with firm strokes. He nibbled her bottom lip, sending exhilarating tremors along her spine. His tongue soothed where his teeth had nipped.
Sorcha leaned closer.
Sliding his arms around her waist and shoulders, Lucius drew her deeper into his embrace. Their lips met in open-mouthed exploration. Sorcha hadn’t experienced anything like it. The kisses she had shared with Oglach had never been like this—a conflagration of emotions.
She slid her hands up his arms to rest on his broad shoulders before running them over his muscled back, as she had craved that night in the roundhouse.
Her body lit up with the new sensations Lucius released in her. Warmth pooled in her belly. This was exquisite pleasure like she had never imagined. And only their first kiss.
May there be many more.
Lucius tightened his arms around her and deepened their kiss. There was nowhere she would rather be than here in his arms. Why had she not realized sooner the joy to be experienced with him? The warmth in her belly became an ache.
Then the muscles under Sorcha’s hands stiffened. Fearing he was withdrawing from her, she clung tighter.
It made no difference. He ended their kiss. His heated body no longer shielded her from the chill of the sea breeze that had intensified. His head was raised as though listening for an elusive sound.
A shout, snatched and distorted by the breeze, reached her.
“The guard!” Sorcha wrenched herself from Lucius’s embrace and his arms dropped away. She grasped her skirt and sprinted through the settlement toward its entrance. Her people were rushing in the same direction.
On the platform above the gateway, the guards pointed to the southeast.
Not more attackers! Not when their youngest men had just departed.
“Who is it?” Sorcha demanded as she climbed the ladder.
She reached the top and stepped onto the viewing platform to find that Lucius had ascended the ladder from the other side of the entrance.
He stood staring in the direction of the trackway from the south.
Sorcha peered at the slow-moving column in that direction. “What do you see? Romans?” She forced the dreaded words through tight lips.
His words came slowly. “Not marching. Not in formation. Not many riding.” He shook his head. “Not Romans.”
“Then who? Enemies?”