Page 26 of Taming the Eagle
Aquila frowned as he handed her food through the grate. “Your husband made a promise in one breath and then broke it the next,” he replied. “How do I know you won’t do the same?”
Fenella clenched her teeth. The gods curse this man. Her body ached, she couldn’t feel her feet, and her eyes were gritty and sore from lack of sleep. However, she couldn’t lose her temper—for she knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere.
Drawing in a deep breath, she dropped her gaze. “I’m not Toutorix,” she said hoarsely. “I swear I will obey you from now on.”
Her throat constricted then. How those words choked her.
“Look me in the eye, Fenella.” Aquila’s voice hardened. “Swear to me on something that matters to you.”
Clutching the package of warm bread to her breast, she raised her chin and eyeballed Aquila. “I swear,” she repeated. “On The Mother, goddess of all knowledge.”
Fenella whispered a silent apology to the goddess as she spoke these words. She hoped The Mother would forgive the lie.
Aquila stared down at her. His expression was wary, and for a moment, she wondered if he’d seen right through her.
Perhaps he wasn’t as easy to fool as she’d thought.
Moments passed, and then he nodded.
The iron grate lifted. A moment later, strong hands hauled her out of the pit.
Fenella staggered forward, letting Aquila catch her. Fatigue and cold had rendered her limbs clumsy, and her legs nearly gave way under her. She didn’t want to lean on him, but she suddenly felt as weak as a newborn foal.
“Go on,” he said, not unkindly, as he propped her up. “Eat your bread.”
Fenella nodded. Indeed, she was starving. With shaking hands, she unwrapped the bread, tore off a piece, and stuffed it into her mouth.
The biting wind hadn’t died overnight. It howled between the storehouses and the eastern ramparts this morning. As she ate, Fenella hunched under the blanket she still wore wrapped around her shoulders.
Finishing her bread, she glanced up to see Aquila watching her. He wore an odd expression: a blend of frustration and concern. “Come.” He took hold of Fenella’s arm, steering her back toward the center of the fort. “Let’s go inside.”
Standing in the courtyard within the general’s home, Fenella eyed the two individuals before her.
One was a striking woman: tall and slender with long curly black hair pulled back from fine features, peat-colored eyes, and skin the color of copper. The man standing next to her had dark-red hair and pale, lightly-freckled skin. His bright blue eyes, and the tribal tattoos on his muscular upper arms, marked him as a tribesman, most likely one of the Damnonii.
“Fenella, these are my house slaves … Kahina and Aedan,” Aquila introduced them. “As I saidbeforeyou tried to make a break for it … you shall take instruction from my steward, Caius, but Kahina will take you through your tasks.”
The two slaves stared back at Fenella, their gazes curious. Clad in simple tunics, belted at the waist, they didn’t look like the cowed, beaten slaves who served her husband—and neither wore the iron collars her own people put on their slaves.
Aquila spoke briefly in his own tongue. With a nod, Aedan walked away, returning to the pails of water he’d been filling from a well in the center of the courtyard.
Meanwhile, Kahina stayed where she was. The slave murmured something to the general, her gaze dropping respectfully.
Aquila snorted.
“What did she say?” Fenella asked. She didn’t like not knowing what people were saying about her.
The Eagle glanced her way. “Kahina is happy to show you what to do … and to teach you Latin … but she suggests you bathe first.” He paused then. “That’s probably wise.”
Fenella frowned. “If I stink, it’s your fault,” she muttered.
Aquila departed, leaving the two women alone in the courtyard. It was a wide, sheltered space, dotted with urns of cooking herbs and lined by a covered walkway. Even so, the wind still managed to find its way in.
Drawing her blanket close once more, Fenella shivered.
Kahina murmured something before beckoning for her to follow.
Jaw set, Fenella did as bid.