Page 38 of Taming the Eagle

The horn blasted again, nearer this time, and the crowd parted, admitting a procession of legionaries, their armor gleaming despite the wintry light. Both women turned to watch their approach.

“They’ve got prisoners,” Kahina observed.

Indeed, as the soldiers marched toward them, Fenella spied a row of men, wrists bound. They were her people—men with night-dark, oaken or russet hair; pale skin; and light eyes—proud warriors, their cheeks still streaked with blue woad.

Fenella stared at them, her planned escape suddenly forgotten. She realized then that they were heading toward the arena. Her palms gripping the now heavy basket turned slick. The Caesars were to make sport of their captives.

“Fen!”

Her name echoed across the crowd.

I know that voice.

Heart thumping against her breastbone, Fenella looked down the line of Cruthini captives—and then her gaze locked with a familiar pair of midnight-blue eyes.

A tall youth with a gash to the forehead, his long brown hair tied back at his nape, was staring at her. His hands were bound before him, and he walked with a limp.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the rumble of the surrounding crowd and the rattle of armor disappearing.

Fenella’s mouth went dry. “Eogan,” she croaked. “Gods, no!”

Justin eyed the bedraggled woman standing before him. Two guards flanked Fenella. Her clothing was dirty and wet, her hair in disarray. She had a graze on one cheek, yet still managed to wear a defiant expression.

They stood in the commander’s office inside the fort headquarters. He’d been writing a report for the emperor when his men knocked on the door. They’d then dragged his slave in.

With a sigh, Justin pushed himself up from behind his desk. His gaze then rested upon Fenella. “Did you try to escape?”

His slave raised her chin, her dark-blue eyes narrowing.

Justin frowned. He’d allowed her to accompany Kahina to market, and this was how she repaid him?

“She didn’t try to run, General,” one of the legionaries answered. “She tried to free a captive.”

Justin stiffened. “What?”

“We were bringing in the Picti scouting party we caught north of here to the arena … when one of the warriors recognized her,” the soldier went on. “She then attacked a soldier escorting him and tried to take his sword.”

Silence fell in the office, while Justin digested the legionary’s words. He’d been in good humor today, for they’d finally managed to catch some of the elusive Wolves—men he planned to question at the arena shortly. But this news soured his mood.

Justin moved around to the front of his desk. “I will deal with this,” he said quietly. “Leave us.”

The two men did as bid, the heavy doors thudding shut behind them.

Justin leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. His gaze raked over Fenella, and he noted she was shaking.

“Are you cold?” A brazier burned a few feet away, taking the chill off the air. Nonetheless, it wasn’t warm in his office. Unlike his residence, the hypocaust system didn’t heat the rooms of the principia.

She clenched her jaw, shaking her head.

“Who was he then?” Justin’s belly twisted as he asked the question.

Jealousy.

It made sense she’d have a lover—for Fenella had been unhappily married to Toutorix. He should have thought of it before.

When Fenella finally answered, her voice came out in a rasp. “My brother Eogan.”

The demon twisting Justin’s gut relaxed its hold.Her brother?