Page 40 of Taming the Eagle
Removing her wrap and heeling off her boots, Fenella tried to quell her shivering. It was colder than the Reaper’s breath outdoors tonight, and although the furnace Aedan kept stoked took the chill off the walls and floor in here, freezing air still managed to find its way in.
Sliding onto her sleeping pallet, she pulled the blankets up around her chin.
She was just about to pull the shutters down on the oil lamp when Kahina stirred and rolled toward her, her dark eyes fluttering open.
Wordlessly, she observed Fenella for a long moment. “That man today,” she murmured finally, “who was he?”
Fenella huffed a sigh. “My brother.” Silence fell in the cubiculum before she continued, her chest tightening. “I don’t imagine Aquila’s done with punishing me. Will he have me whipped?”
“I don’t think so … he’s never touched me.”
Fenella’s mouth quirked into a tight smile. “No, but you aren’t as troublesome as me.”
Kahina’s dark eyes twinkled. “That’s true, although Aquila isn’t a cruel man.” Her expression shadowed then. “Not all masters are that way.”
Fenella observed Kahina, frowning. She knew little about the woman who’d become her daily companion, other than she hailed from a Roman colony called Numidia—a land far to the south, which was dry and hot, and had palm trees and vast deserts. “How many masters have you had?”
“Three,” Kahina replied, rolling over and staring up at the ceiling. “I was sold to a slave trader at the age of ten to pay my father’s debts. My first owner was a merchant … a huge, sweaty man with a wife and children. As soon as I began my moon bleed, he started visiting my bed. Once his wife discovered what he was up to, she flew into a rage and ordered him to sell me.”
“That must have been a relief?”
“It was … for a short while.” Kahina didn’t remove her gaze from the ceiling as she continued. “He sold me at a market in Siga, a busy port in the north of Numidia. My new owner was a horse trader. With him, I traveled the empire.”
The words were simple, yet Fenella caught the edge to them. “He, too, came to my bed regularly. But he also beat me,” Kahina continued. “Sometimes with his fists … sometimes with a stick. And once, when I tried to defend myself, he took a whip to me.”
Fenella’s mouth thinned. The bastard sounded like Toutorix.
“My husband was violent too,” she admitted. “He beat his first two wives … and it was rumored that one of them died after a hiding.” As always, her belly curdled when she thought about the Wolf. “But I always fought back.”
Kahina took this in, her eyes widening. They were very different women, slaves from opposite edges of a vast empire. Kahina was gently-spoken and kind, while Fenella’s wild spirit raged against the confines of her narrowed world. Yet, here they were, both serving the same master.
“So how did you end up with Aquila?” Fenella asked after a pause.
Kahina’s mouth quirked. “The horse trader got into a fight one eve … in a tavern in northern Gaul. Someone stabbed him in the eye. I was put to market once more, and the general bought me … and I’m glad he did. He has always let me be.”
Fenella pulled a face. “You can’t tell me you’re happy here … so far from home?”
“I left Numidia behind many years ago. My father sold me like one of his camels. I don’t miss him.”
Fenella frowned. “A camel?”
“It’s a beast … a bit bigger than a horse, with long legs and a fatty lump on its back. They can travel great distances in the desert.” Kahina pulled a face then. “But you must be wary of them … they can be ill-tempered … and they spit.”
Fenella’s gaze widened as she tried to imagine such a beast. “You’ve seen so much of the world,” she murmured. “What do you think of Cruithentúath?”
“Your land is beautiful … and wild,” Kahina replied, before she hiked the blankets higher up under her chin. “Although I wish it were warmer.”
With a sigh, Fenella rolled over, her gaze also fixing upon the beams that crisscrossed the ceiling. “You’ve been kind to me, Kahina,” she said softly. Suddenly, it felt as if a boulder sat on her chest. Kindness was harder to weather than brutality, it seemed.
Fenella had never had any female friends. Growing up, she hadn’t been close to her younger sisters and put-upon mother. And then when she’d become Toutorix’s wife, his female kin, and even the slaves, had been wary of her. “I’m sorry about what I said today,” she continued. “About Marcus.”
Kahina didn’t reply. Fenella glanced her way, noting the slave’s guarded expression. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t trust her.
Fenella favored her with an apologetic smile. “I’ve a poor opinion of men … and it sometimes makes me blunt-tongued. Your friendship with Marcus is none of my business.”
Silence stretched between them before Kahina heaved a deep, sad sigh. “I would like us to be more than friends … and so would he … but it’s impossible.”
Fenella’s brow furrowed. “Why? Surely, Marcus could ask Aquila to free you so you could be together?”