Page 42 of Taming the Eagle

Blinking as her eyes watered, Fenella stared at the leather breastplate of the harness he wore over his tunic. She refused to meet his eye.

The general coughed, stepping back to distance himself from the dust. “Your brother is competing in a death match this afternoon,” he informed her.

Fenella’s pulse started to thunder in her ears.Eogan’s alive!Relief weakened her limbs, although panic followed close on its tail, cramping her belly.A death match?

Her gaze snapped up then, and for the first time in a moon’s turn, she looked at Aquila fully. “Come to gloat, have you?”

The Eagle’s lantern jaw tensed. “No, I wanted to bring you to see him … in case he falls today.”

Fenella’s fingers clenched around the paddle. Gods, how she wished to swing it at his face. “How benevolent of you,” she growled.

Aquila’s dark brows drew together. “If you don’t wish to speak to him, I can leave you to your chores.”

Mouth twisting, Fenella threw her paddle down. It clattered across the pavers, causing Electri, who’d been sunning herself nearby, to leap to her feet and dart away. “Take me to my brother then.”

Aquila eyed her, as if he was reconsidering his offer, before turning away. “Very well,” he replied curtly. “Follow me.”

Jaw clenched, Fenella followed him out of the praetorium and into the busy street, where four guards awaited them. Above, the watery sun was trying its best to cast some warmth over the world. As always, the fort was a flurry of activity and noise, although Fenella paid her surroundings little note.

Instead, her thoughts were on her brother.

Eogan was good in a scrap. Thank the gods, he still lived.

I have to see him.

Aquila led her through the fort and out of the Porta Principalis Dextra. Their escort tailed them, their gazes boring into Fenella’s back. They would be waiting for her to bolt, but Fenella was too distracted by thoughts of Eogan to think about running this afternoon. Instead, she focused on keeping up with Aquila. He didn’t speak to her on the way, and Fenella had to quicken her stride to a slow jog at times to match his long stride.

As they walked, she marked the looks they were attracting from those they passed. The men would be wondering why the general was taking his slave for a walk. Aquila ignored the stares. Instead, he strode on, leading the way through the wooden gateway and down the causeway into the vicus.

Beyond the walls, the early afternoon light gilded the skeleton trees and fallow pastures surrounding the vicus. Spring was a moon’s turn away; the earth was still sleeping.

The Eagle led her across the empty market clearing and then between rows of neat wooden homes, up a straight street that led to the arena. A crowd had gathered before the entrance. Hawkers selling hot food wove through the throng. The aroma of fried garlic and the rise and fall of excited conversation drifted back toward Fenella and Aquila.

Her belly twisted.Entertainment … that’s all it is to them.

They approached the arena, yet instead of entering the circular structure through the wide gates, Aquila led her right, to a fenced area attached to the back. He took her through an archway into a small courtyard flanked by a low, windowless wooden building.

And there, standing in the midst of the open space, stood her brother.

Fenella scanned the courtyard for any sign of guards, but Eogan waited alone. He was barefoot and wore leather trews and vest. His hair, which had once been as long as her own, had been hacked short, and blue woad streaked his face.

Her throat tightened. He looked like he was about to go into battle.

Murmuring an oath, Fenella rushed to him, crushing him in a hug.

Eogan hugged her back, his grip as fierce as her own. “It’s good to see you, Fen,” he said roughly.

Fenella drew back, meeting his eye. “I wish I could do something to stop this.”

Her brother’s mouth twisted, his blue eyes gleaming. His gaze flicked then to the tall figure that had stopped near the entrance to the courtyard. Aquila’s men had also halted, a discreet distance from their general, awaiting his order. Eogan glanced back at Fenella, his expression searching. “Why has he let you see me?”

Fenella swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Eogan’s mouth thinned. She saw it then, the suspicion in her brother’s gaze. He thought her Aquila’s bed slave, and that she wielded influence over him.

But he was wrong on both counts.

Pushing aside the hurt that Eogan was so willing to think the worst of her, she stepped closer to him. “I begged him to spare you,” she said, her tone urgent now, “after I saw you that day … but he refused.”