The Protector. Carla Capshaw

don’t trust myself.

      She made her way to the couch across the room. Aware that she was being a coward, she found it infinitely safer for her peace of mind to indulge her fascination for Quintus from a distance.

      “I’d prefer someone else.”

      “You’re just being stubborn.” He ran his scarred fingers through his hair. “You won’t leave here without Quintus in command of your guards.”

      “You can’t make my decisions for me.”

      “No, but I can lock you in a room upstairs until I discover your attackers and have them arrested.”

      “You wouldn’t dare!” Furious he threatened her freedom, the one thing she valued most, she began to pace as though looking for a way of escape. “I’d never speak to you again.”

      “I’ll take my chances.”

      She came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the office and glared at him. “Fine. Have the slave packed and ready to leave within the hour.”

      Caros’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but she managed not to flinch. He knew her too well. It wasn’t like her to capitulate with ease. But why waste time arguing with the stubborn ox when she could simply agree, then order Quintus back to the ludus once they’d safely left the city? She had the other members of her guard to protect her if the need arose, while Quintus’s absence assured he wouldn’t come to harm because of his association with her.

      “It wouldn’t be wise of you to leave until late in the afternoon.”

      “You know I must reach Neopolis as soon as possible. If there’s a chance to see Octavia before the end, I’d like to.”

      “I understand.” He spoke gently as though she were one of his skittish Spanish mares. “But think, you may not reach her at all if you don’t proceed with caution. Preparations must be made and new guards chosen if you’re to be kept safe. Leaving later will provide the time we need to find the right men and ensure enough light for you to make the first tavern outside the city before nightfall.”

      “Fine,” she snapped, rife with frustration, but unable to argue with the truth. “We’ll wait. However, I will leave for Neopolis today, and gods protect you if you try to stop me.”

      When the sun began to wane and the afternoon turned cooler, Quintus made his way to the courtyard behind the main house. Most of the day had been spent in unbroken activity. After praying for wisdom, he and Caros had weighed various plans of escape and worked out the quickest, safest route to Neopolis. Quintus had overseen every detail of the trip’s preparations himself. His own life meant little to him, but the thought of Adiona coming to harm chilled him to the marrow.

      The pair of geldings he’d chosen for the road portion of the journey to the port town of Ostia waited to be hitched to the raeda, a small covered coach in the center of the courtyard.

      Alexius hailed Quintus from where he sat on a bench under an olive tree. The Greek joined him by the horses. He broke his half-eaten apple in two and fed a piece to each animal. “These scruffy beasts have certainly seen better days, no? With Caros’s stable flung wide for you, why not choose horses with more…appeal?”

      Eager to get the journey under way, Quintus cast a glance around the walled space until he located the assembly of formidable guards he’d selected based on their swordsmanship, speed and, most importantly, intelligence.

      “These mounts are perfect for my purpose,” he said, turning back to Alexius. “I picked them for strength, not beauty. If Lady Leonia’s assassins are watching the compound, they’ll expect her to leave in luxury, not cramped in the back of a shabby covered wagon.”

      “Good thinking, but I’m surprised Adiona agreed.”

      “I didn’t ask her.”

      “I see.” Amused disbelief crossed the Greek’s dark features. “Do you mind if I stay until you do ask her? That ought to prove entertaining.”

      “She’s an intelligent woman. She’ll see reason.”

      “Usually I’d agree with you,” Alexius said, trying not to laugh, “but the lady seems most unreasonable where you’re concerned, my friend. In truth, I’ve considered lending you my armor for this venture.”

      Quintus offered a halfhearted smile. Alexius had a knack for turning every situation into a farce, but in this case he was too close to the truth for comfort. The next two weeks promised little but inevitable arguments and power plays. He didn’t delude himself into thinking Adiona would be placid or agreeable, but he was determined to fulfill his duty and keep her safe no matter how often she tempted him to wring her slender neck.

      Whatever it takes to earn my freedom.

      Disgusted with himself to realize a part of him looked forward to being with her no matter how badly she behaved, he crawled under the raeda to ascertain the underpinnings were sound enough to hold the bounty of possessions a peacock like the widow was sure to require. Satisfied all was well, he slid out from under the vehicle, dusted off his tunic and went to check the supplies.

      He opened the coach’s back door, expecting the covered space to be stuffed with Adiona’s frivolous trinkets and overabundance of clothing. To his surprise, no new chests had been added to the foodstuffs and amphorae filled with water he’d placed there earlier.

      What is she waiting for?

      He bristled, recalling the orders she’d sent for him and his men to be ready to leave when she commanded. The curt note still rankled. He should have ignored the missive like he’d intended. As he’d expected, she was the last to arrive.

      Alexius said farewell and wished him a safe journey. Another hour passed and Adiona had yet to make an appearance. His temper rising, Quintus began to pace. He’d gone over his orders with his men and the horses were restless. He’d hoped to leave while there was enough light to see them safely beyond the city gates and installed in a tabernae before darkness made them prey for thieves and other riffraff. Not for the first time that day, he wondered if Adiona had any concept of the lengths he and her friends had gone to to ascertain her welfare.

      A servant girl with a leather satchel approached from the direction of the main house. Quintus recognized her as the maid Adiona had sent for earlier in the afternoon. Tall and slim, the girl’s wool tunic matched her dark brown hair and eyes. She seemed as timid as her mistress was untamed.

      “I’m called Nidia,” she said shyly, her eyes downcast. “My lady said she’ll be along in a moment. These are her belongings.”

      Quintus took the satchel she held out to him. It was lighter than he expected. There must be some mistake.

      “There’s no more,” Nidia said as though she guessed his thoughts. “My lady realizes you mustn’t be weighted down if you mean to travel quickly.”

      Mystified but pleased by Adiona’s good sense, he placed the satchel in the back of the covered cart and latched the wooden door just as Caros made his way through the gate that separated the courtyard from the private gardens of the main house.

      “Are you ready to leave?” the lanista asked.

      “Only for the last two hours.”

      Caros grinned. “No one claimed punctuality is one of Adiona’s virtues.” Quintus snorted.

      “She does have virtues, you know. She strives to keep them hidden, but I’m confident you’ll see the truth once you’ve spent some time with her.” Caros grinned at Quintus’s dubious frown. “To be fair, I think she’s tardy now because of a late delivery of tunics she ordered.”

      “That’s understandable,” Quintus said drily. “Wouldn’t want to be unfashionable when we slink away in the dark.” The lanista chuckled. “There’s plenty of light. You’ll make it to the inn before night falls, just as you planned.”

      “Not