Chapter XXVII Lela
XXVII
LELA
We’d flown through the night, reaching the shores of Britannia at dawn. Trajan had skirted far around Londinium, not wanting to attract the attention of the local Romans below. Since we’d landed around midday, far to the north, we’d dressed and trudged along this solitary path.
He landed near his home, but not too close because he didn’t want to alarm local tribes if they saw a dragon flying overhead.
He wanted us to arrive unnoticed and unseen.
Fortunately, a gray sheet of clouds covered the sky, so we were able to fly out of sight, landing in a meadow near the woodlands that surrounded the house he owned here.
While we walked along, he told me about his home here in Britannia.
This land was filled with the Anglo-Saxons, Celts, and Picts, among other various clans who originated here. But the Roman provinces held dominion, demanding tribute to keep the peace. In other words, to keep from taking and enslaving them.
He’d built a modest home here, designed to fit into the landscape so that no Roman might suspect the land or farm was owned by a wealthy patrician.
It was also tucked far to the north, where few Romans patrolled.
They couldn’t abide the cold and harsh territory, besides the fact that the ruthless barbarians in the northern country had made it clear they’d pay the emperor’s tithe as long as Romans kept to the south.
Before we left Emporiae, he’d found some cloaks and long tunics in a chest of clothes, but it wasn’t near enough what we needed in this frosty climate. The tip of my nose was frozen and I shivered.
“We’re nearly there. It’s just over that ridge,” he assured me.
I nodded, teeth chattering. “How did you get this land? It’s eons from the city of Rome.”
“After our campaign in Carthage, Julian and I, among a few of his other officers, had been sent to Londinium on Caesar’s behalf. We were to assess if any military force was needed here to keep the locals in line.”
“Of course,” I muttered.
He looped his arm through mine and hauled me close. “To keep you warm,” he said innocently.
I rolled my eyes. “Go on.”
“Well, we traveled farther north, where most of the wilder tribes lived. Julian and I were hunting in the woods up here and we heard a man cry out. When we followed the sound, we found a young man being attacked by a bear. I shifted into half-skin instantly and killed the beast before it could maim the man further. His leg was already in shreds.”
“How horrible. Who was he?”
“The son of a Brigante chief of a local Celtic tribe. When we returned him home, safe and sound, the chief couldn’t believe that two Romans had risked themselves to save his son.” Trajan shrugged, blushing.
I squeezed our linked arms, warming myself against him. “Then what happened?”
“The chief asked how he could repay us. It was after our campaign in Carthage, and I knew that war was coming to Rome. And that I would need a place tucked far away to hide my grandfather and my sisters. So I asked if he’d sell me a piece of land and help me to build a house and stables like the Anglo-Saxons built. ”
“Obviously he did.”
“Indeed. He also promised to keep locals from tampering with it while I was away.”
“Did he know that you planned to use it as a hideaway from Caesar?”
He chuckled. “He didn’t know who I was running from, but he understood enough.” He glanced around the open field we walked across along a narrow, winding path. “I didn’t realize it would become Julian’s hideaway first, of course.”
A chilling blast of wind swept across the open field.
“Brr. I haven’t felt this kind of cold since the winters of my homeland,” I told him, bundling my hands inside the front of my cloak.
“Back in Dacia?” he asked.
He’d heard me mention it to his grandfather on the ship. A strange look came over his face when I’d told him, similar to the expression on his face right now.
“Yes,” I answered. “Why do you look at me like that?”
Staring intensely for another moment, he shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just that you look like someone else I know. I didn’t know you were Dacian.”
“Does that matter?” I asked.
A dog suddenly barked off to our left. When we both turned, a gangly boy and his dog romped through the nearby field, heading at an angle up the hill toward the narrow path. The black-and-white sheepdog saw us, bounding toward us excitedly.
I laughed, bending down as the dog reached us first, petting his head as he licked my hands.
“Amica!” called the dog’s owner.
The tall boy coming our way wore trousers, fur-trimmed boots, and a thick coat made of some hide, with long, curly hair waving around his face. He looked Roman. But it was the large man loping up behind him who caught and held my attention. I recognized him.
“Salve, Stefanos!” Trajan yelled down to him. “Ivo!”
I stood from petting the dog. Trajan had mentioned that Julian lived here with servants of his own household, but we’d never discussed the details.
“Ivo,” I whispered, smiling.
The boy froze at the sound of his name, then Trajan pushed the hood back off his head.
The boy smiled wide and then loped the rest of the way up the hill.
I was surprised when he leaped into Trajan’s arms to embrace him so familiarly.
Ivo approached more slowly, a broad smile on his face as he looked at Trajan.
“Trajan! It is so good to see you,” said Stefanos.
“Hello, my boy.” He hugged him back affectionately, stirring a tenderness beneath my breast.
“Julian will be so happy to see you! We did not know you were coming.”
“I didn’t have time to get him a message.” Trajan gestured behind him to me. “This is Lela.”
The boy was nearly as tall as I was. “Hi!” He beamed. “I am Stefanos. And these are my best friends Ivo and Amica.”
Amica barked happily at his feet, wagging her tail. Ivo stared at me, eyes wide.
“I am happy to meet you,” I said to Stefanos, my breath swirling out in white puffs. “And it is so good to see you again, Ivo.”
Trajan turned to me. “You know Ivo?”
Rather than relive the experience of the last time I saw Ivo, I was overwhelmed with joy and relief.
I’d thought Valerius had him killed, and the guilt of it being my fault had weighed heavily on me.
Like everything else. Andreas hadn’t known what had become of Ivo either after that last time I tried to run away and Ivo had stepped in and tried to defend me.
For his kindness, he’d become the victim of Valerius’s rage.
I had been sure he’d beaten him to death.
“Ivo.” I stepped closer and held out my hand. “Will you take my hand and my gratitude for trying to protect me in Valerius’s home?”
Everyone was quiet while Ivo stepped closer hesitantly and held out his large hand. I took his in both of mine. “I can’t express how thankful I am for all you did for me and the fact that you’re still alive.” I laughed and squeezed his hand. “I feared the worst that day.”
He smiled shyly then looked at the ground, nodding as if to accept my gratefulness.
Stefanos stepped to stand beside us and put a hand on Ivo’s shoulder. “Yes, Ivo is the best protector ever. I was so happy when Julian brought him into our home.”
I let go of Ivo’s hand. “I am happy that he did as well.”
“Let’s get to the house quickly,” Trajan urged us, stepping to my side, examining me keenly. “We landed not far away, but it has been a long walk in this cold.”
“Kara is making lamb stew tonight. That will warm you up. Follow me!” he shouted, sprinting ahead toward the ridge, Amica barking and running alongside him, and Ivo following behind them.
“Are you all right?” he asked gently, taking my hand. “I did not realize you knew Ivo.”
“I am actually overjoyed.” I laughed. “I’d always thought Valerius killed him when he tried to protect me in that hell.”
“I never knew how Ivo had come to Julian’s household. He always seemed to be finding people who needed saving and adding them to his family.”
“Julian considers his servants family?” I asked, surprised.
“He does.”
I’d misjudged Julian just as I had Trajan. Yes, they were both Romans, but I couldn’t count all Romans as evil, knowing what I did now.
“Hurry up!” yelled Stefanos, waving us on as he reached the top of the hill.
Trajan and I both smiled, for I believed it had been a long while since either of us had seen the sweet innocence of a child.
“He seems so young,” I noted, trying to find the words to ask what I was thinking without offending. “Is he, uh, simpleminded?”
Chuckling, Trajan answered, “No. He’s only six years old.”
I gasped and stared, wide-eyed, as Stefanos breached the hill and disappeared over the other side. “He can’t be. He looks to be twelve or thirteen at least.”
“He’s dragon-born,” he explained soberly.
I frowned up the hill, taking that in. “Who is he?”
“He was thrown in the gutter and left for dead, but Julian’s housekeeper Kara found him. Julian took him into his household.”
“But it’s illegal. He could be killed if discovered. Why didn’t he simply send him away, hide him outside of the city somewhere?”
“I asked Julian the same thing once.”
“And what did he say?”
We trudged up the incline, almost at the top of the hill.
“He said that no one else would care for him the way he would. That he saw slaves as humans, not commodities to be bought and sold and used.” Clearing his throat, Trajan explained, “His mother had been a slave. Before his father freed her.”
I stared, genuinely shocked to hear this. “And you feel the same way, don’t you?” I asked him, my pulse speeding. “Now, I mean?”
He stopped right below the crest of the hill and faced me. I stopped with him, noting the grave expression tightening his face that told me he wanted my full attention. So I gave it.