Page 20 of Firebird (The Fire That Binds #1)

XIX

MALINA

Trajan stood looking over the war table at maps. I was folding some of the clothes I’d laundered on the rug in the open area of the tent while Trajan stared at one, making some notes with a stylus.

“What happened to the barbarians?” I asked.

“Vanished,” he said, still bending over the table, shaking his head.

“That is unusual in your experience?”

“It’s unheard-of. Especially considering their attack on us had been successful. ”

“They defeated you?” I hadn’t thought to inquire about the battle, my sole obsession being in getting Julian better.

For the past three days, Julian had slept, waking in brief moments as the fever flared up. The healer, whose name was Polla, came to check daily, assuring me that I’d done well with the sutures and that the general was on the mend.

“Nearly four hundred dead,” said Trajan.

“How many of them were killed?”

He looked up at me from the table. “None. We found not one of their dead once we were able to scour the forest when the fire was put out. And we captured none of their wounded for interrogation.” His brow furrowed. “This is certainly a defeat.”

Koska had told me there was a raging fire that had burned the entire forest to the north of us. I’d paid it no attention at the time, my sole concern being Julian.

“That was the other thing,” added Trajan. “Fire.”

“What do you mean? Romans always use fire in their attacks.” An image of burning trees in my village flashed to mind.

“True,” he said flatly. “But we didn’t use fire. They did.”

Shocked, I stood with the folded linens in my hands. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Never,” came the rusty voice of Julian from the private quarters.

Instantly, I rushed to him behind the curtain, Trajan following quickly behind me. I placed the linens on the rug and poured a glass of water.

“Here. Lift your head.” He allowed me to help him and drank the entire glass.

It was good to see him without a trace of fever, even though he appeared pale and weak. Not the powerful man I knew. But his fever breaking for good was a start.

He tried to push up into a sitting position but struggled. Trajan and I helped him to sit up. He panted with the effort, seeming completely drained .

“How are you feeling?” asked Trajan.

“Like I’ve been gutted and sewn back together.”

“Well, that’s accurate, then.” Trajan smiled. “You look less like Pluto’s meat today.”

“Good to know.” Julian sighed, his gaze skating to me, softening for a moment.

“They knew how to use fire to their advantage.” Trajan switched quickly to business. “They used nets to entrap us. They were all pre-set with mechanisms that were triggered by our men walking on the forest floor. Somehow, they evaded the nets and the fire altogether. Now, they’ve disappeared for good. No sign of them anywhere.”

Julian remained quiet, but his expression was dark and pensive. Finally, he said, “I believe I spoke to their leader.”

“The one you fought with?” asked Trajan.

Julian nodded. “This wasn’t an attack.”

“Julian,” Trajan scoffed, “they killed almost four hundred of our men. It was an attack.”

“It was a warning,” he replied. “Actually, it wasn’t even that. It was a prelude to what’s to come.”

Trajan crossed his arms, still standing at the foot of the bed while I remained seated on the edge next to Julian.

“What did their leader say to you?” Trajan demanded.

“Only that we would meet again.”

“But that isn’t what has you so pensive,” I remarked, knowing it with my empathic sense. “What is it?”

He turned his head toward me, a smile tugging on his mouth. “So perceptive, firebird.”

I took his hand in both of mine and squeezed, so relieved he was awake and talking. Then he went on.

“I saw something before the leader disappeared. I thought I was imagining things, but now, seeing their use of fire, I know I’m right.”

“What did you see?” asked Trajan .

“The flicker of a dragon living inside him.”

Trajan balked. Then he laughed. “Are you sure?”

Julian didn’t laugh, but held his tribune’s gaze. “The man who moved with inhuman speed and cut me with a poisonous blade was a dragon, Trajan. I know it.”

Trajan glanced away and bit his lip, soaking this in. Then he added, “Not just the leader. All of his men as well.”

A chill prickled along my skin, raising goose bumps on my flesh. “Yes,” I said, knowing yet again with my magic that this was true. “That’s how they were able to use fire against you.”

“Because they could breathe it,” said Julian. “And they must’ve soaked the boughs with oil so they would ignite instantly, the nets trapping my men so they smothered beneath the dome of smoke and flame.”

Nodding, Trajan heaved out a sigh. “That would make sense, but Julian”—he shook his head—“there were hundreds of them. Were they all dragons? How did they escape?”

“There were hundreds flying through the tops of the trees,” he said. “I thought they were our men, but now…”

“They were the enemy,” finished Trajan. “The barbarian horde flying to safety, disguising themselves as our own men.”

“It was chaos,” continued Julian. “And the air was covered in the scent of smoke and burning flesh. How could anyone scent that they didn’t belong to us amidst that mayhem?”

“Smart.” Trajan shook his head. “Very smart.”

“Indeed.”

“What was the leader like?” I asked.

“Formidable,” answered Julian. “He sounded of Germanic origin. He spoke Latin clearly but he had an accent.”

“Fascinating. How on earth could he have gotten that many Romans to defect and join him? I can’t imagine that many would do such a thing. ”

“Perhaps disgruntled in their foreign province with their governor. Or bitter from some slight under my uncle’s rule.” Julian shrugged.

“That’s easy to imagine, actually,” Trajan corrected himself, “but to go up against a Roman legion. One of hundreds. There can’t be that many of them.”

“I don’t know. But we need to find out.” Julian winced as he shifted in the bed. “This stays between us. No one is to know who or what these barbarians are.”

Trajan smiled. “Because if we can contact them without them burning us alive”—he dropped his voice to a whisper—“they could be our allies.”

Julian smiled. “We are of the same mind.”

“We always are. I’ll leave you to rest.” He slipped out of the bedchamber curtain. “Get him strong, Malina. We need to return to Rome.”

I stood and went to the water bowl, dipping a fresh cloth and wringing it before I returned to his bedside. Julian’s gaze rested on mine, a soft smile curling one side of his mouth as I wiped his brow.

“Aren’t you tired of waiting on me?”

“No,” I answered softly and wiped his neck and upper chest.

The clean linen covered his naked body. It had taken Koska and me nearly an hour to wrestle the soiled sheets from underneath his body and replace them with new ones after I’d sutured his wound.

“Let me put on some more salve.”

I lowered the sheet just enough to see the long scar from beneath his naval to his left hip bone. The flesh wasn’t puckered and red as it was the first day. It seemed to be healing well.

“It will leave a nasty scar,” I said while gently adding the salve.

He flinched beneath my touch, then settled. “Will that bother you? If I have an ugly scar?”

Shocked, I snapped, “Why would I care?”

“I don’t know. But”—he cleared his throat nervously—“I wouldn’t want to appear… ugly to you. ”

I sat back and stared at him, then laughed. “Oh, my. The great Legatus Julianus is a vain creature.”

He tried to keep from smiling as a flush of red crept into his cheeks. “I am not vain.”

“You are.”

“Only when it comes to you. Your thoughts of my appearance are all that matters,” he added with levity.

He hadn’t tried to touch me. I wished he’d reach for my wrist or hand as he’d done in his fever.

“Well,” I added soothingly, “I think a man with a battle scar is rather attractive.”

He pushed himself up a little. “Do you?”

“Yes,” I added, not knowing why I was inflating his ego. He didn’t need it. “Scars show strength. That you can survive pain and injury. That your body is strong and can take on more.”

“I can take on anything. Except an injury you might give me.”

Walking to the washbowl, I cleaned my hands of the salve. “I have no reason to injure you.”

“You might do it all the same.”

Smiling, I turned to tease him, but his expression was so hard and harsh that I couldn’t say another word. He wasn’t speaking of physical injuries and I couldn’t mock him for it, showing me his vulnerability. It was too serious a conversation that we hadn’t had clearly enough.

“Come,” he beckoned. “Tell me a story of something happy in your life.”

He sensed the too-tight tension as well.

“More stories of my gift?”

“No,” he said solemnly. “Any story of your life that was a happy one.”

Nodding, I walked to his side and thought back to find some good memory to share. It didn’t take long. I settled on a low stool next to his bed .

“It was a trial for my mother to raise four daughters who were all so active and opinionated. She would send us once a week to a neighboring village, Aldava, to trade at market.”

Julian settled farther down, lowering his head to the pillow, watching me and smiling. I could become addicted to the adoring expression on his handsome face.

“There was a small creek we always had to cross. The bridge into Aldava was farther down, but we could reach the market faster by crossing a fallen log we’d found. Well, one day, I decided to make our trip more adventurous.”

“Of course you did,” he rumbled.

I refolded the scrap of cloth in my lap to busy my hands, unable to hide the grin from spreading across my face.

“I dared my sisters to dance across the log. Whoever did successfully, I’d buy them a honey roll from the baker at the market. But”—I raised a pointer finger and arched a brow—“they had to mimic a dance I created on the spot.”

“Show me.”

I paused. “What?”

“Show me the dance,” he dared me, like I’d dared my sisters that day.

With a haughty lift of my chin, I set my linen rag on the stool and stood at the foot of his bed. I laughed, clutching a handful of my tunic and lifting it slightly so that I had more movement around my legs.

“Let me remember.” I looked at the tent ceiling, unable to meet his gaze at the moment.

I swayed my hips in a sinuous line from one side to the other, then I shimmied two steps to the right, twirled once, then kicked my right leg before spinning to face away, where I repeated the soft circling of my hips, twirled, and kicked with my left, then took a giant leap on a resounding clap .

“That was as close as I can remember,” I said, laughing, finally looking at Julian.

His amused expression was part joy and part hunger, his golden gaze flicking down my body, then back up.

“Lovely,” was all he said in that dark, velvety voice.

“It was a simple dance,” I added lightly, ignoring the allure of his voice and his gaze. “But it was more difficult on the log.”

“So who was successful in getting their honey roll?” he asked.

“Lela refused to do it, of course. She was always too mature. She scolded all of us for being so foolish. But Kostanya was competitive, so she did the dance. Kizzy—” I stopped and laughed again. “She wasn’t so successful. She fell into the creek on the second twirl.”

Julian chuckled and the soft, rumbly sound warmed me from the inside out. “Was she upset?”

“Kizzy? Never.” I remembered the way Kostanya and I ran to her aid while Lela scolded us and said, I told you so . “She laughed it off, even while her stockings were wet the rest of the day. It was summer and warm enough. But I bought her a honey roll anyway. I could never refuse Kizzy anything she wanted.” A fleeting pang of loss gripped me.

“Of course you did.” His eyes drifted partly closed. “You were a good sister.”

I tucked the covers higher beneath his chin. “Yes.” A lump swelled in my throat. “I was.” I blew out the oil lamp on the side table. “Now get some rest.”

I left the tent, my memories having stirred me to full wakefulness. It was dark so no one saw me slide between the tents to the back where I could get a breath of fresh air and peer up at the moon.

I wondered if my prayers to Proserpina helped my sisters at all. I liked to think of them all together in the afterlife with Papa and Mama. And Bunica. I hoped that Lela’s and Jardani’s spirits found each other too, and that they walked in peace together.

The memory I shared stirred both joy and deep sorrow in my breast. I hadn’t thought of the good times in so long. Of the many sisterly arguments and petty grievances that turned into hugs and tears more times than I could count.

A tear slid down my cheek as I gazed up at the moonlit sky, the stars a canvas of glittering shards as far as I could see.

Bunica had said that my sisters and I would turn the tide, that we would defeat our enemy, and change the fate of our people. She’d never said the Romans, but we both knew that’s who she meant. Bunica had the sight, and she was so sure of her premonition of us.

Now, my sisters were gone.

“But I’m still here, Bunica.”

I swiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

I was still here, and I’d risk my life to make her prophecy come true. I’d do it all by myself if I had to. Yet, I knew I wouldn’t have to. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Julian, and the allies he trusted. For the first time in so many years, hope stirred like a fluttering bird trying to finally take flight.

“I promise, Bunica,” I swore up to the sky and to any gods who might be listening.