Page 19 of Taming the Eagle
She was used to seeing the enemy soldiers helmeted and wearing plate armor. She’d thought they all looked like the Eagle and the centurion he’d taken supper with the night before: tanned and dark-haired with haughty, hawkish features. But the inhabitants of this fort clearly hailed from every edge of the empire.
Her father had told her that the reach of the Caesars was wide indeed. There were men with skin even paler than her own, with ruddy cheeks and red, brown, or golden hair; and those with black hair tightly curled against their scalp, and skin the color of burnished acorn or dark walnut. Some of the soldiers were built like giants with pale eyes and pugnacious features, while others were lean and agile, with aquiline noses and obsidian eyes.
But despite their differences, all of the men watched the Eagle’s prize. And as she walked by, one of them made a lewd gesture.
Sweating now, Fenella tore her attention from the ogling crowd.
Keep focused, she told herself.Don’t let them distract you.
She needed to look out for anything that would aid her escape.
Aquila and his men traveled down the straight street to a wide space at the heart of the fort. Two buildings made of dun-colored stone with red-tiled roofs reared up before them, one slightly smaller than the other.
A row of soldiers stood at attention in front of the pillars framing the largest building’s entrance. They saluted the Eagle, by slamming fisted right hands over their hearts, as he swung down from his horse. One of the soldiers—a bald, rawboned man—stepped forward from the line, his gaze sweeping to Fenella. He then frowned.
After a curt exchange, Aquila untied Fenella from his horse and handed his mount over to one of his men. He then led Fenella away to the smaller of the two buildings. The guards flanking the entrance saluted as the general walked by.
Fenella followed him inside, and the noise and stench of the fort disappeared.
It was quiet in here. The air smelled of crushed herbs, cressets burned upon the walls, and the pavers beneath her feet were cool and smooth.
A small dark-haired man clad in a knee-length tunic awaited them. His gaze swept over the general’s prize, his mouth thinning.
Aquila greeted him before turning to Fenella. “This is my house steward, Caius,” he said, shifting to her tongue. “He’s in charge of things here.”
And then, to Fenella’s surprise, the Eagle stepped behind her and started untying her wrists.
“Where am I?” she asked, her pulse quickening. She’d been waiting for this moment—for when he’d finally release her bonds.
“The praetorium … the fort commander’s residence. It’s my home, and yours too, now,” The Eagle told her as he loosened the last of the knots. Fenella stifled a sigh of relief when he freed her wrists. The ropes had chafed at her skin, and her upper arms ached from being forced behind her all morning. She rubbed her wrists gingerly, swallowing a groan as the blood rushed back into her fingers.
She turned then, to face her captor once more.
Aquila met her gaze. “You will join my house slaves,” he went on, “and take instructions from Caius. You are to share a room with another slave … she will teach you our tongue and take you through your tasks.”
Heat ignited in Fenella’s belly.
I’ll not learn your foul languageand empty your stinking privies.
And she wouldn’t warm his bed either.
She wouldn’t let this man soil her—as his kind had done to this land and to so many of her people.
Aye, the walls of this fort were high, and soldiers surrounded her, but she could run like a hunted doe.
The gates were likely still open. All she had to do was get to them.
And with that, Fenella dove for the doors.
VII. NOWHERE TO RUN
SHE MOVED FAST, crashing through the doors and flying down the steps.
A shout went up behind her, but Fenella was past the stunned guards now and racing across the open area beyond.
Men thronged the square, and some of them moved to intercept her.
Head down, Fenella ducked left and right to avoid them, as if she were weaving through a stand of pines. The entrance to the street leading back to the gates drew closer, and she made for it.