The Warrior’s Princess. Barbara Erskine

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      Carmella shrugged her shoulders and bent to pick up her bag off the floor. Gathering her cards and wrapping them in their silk scarf, she pushed them into a pocket in the bag and zipped it up. ‘Ciao! See you soon!’

      Kim frowned as the door closed behind her. ‘I am sorry, Jess. That was so close! It was just getting exciting!’

      ‘Did I mess things up?’ Dan was contrite. ‘I should have rung from the airport, I managed to get a flight sooner than I expected, but I wanted to surprise you all.’ His glance brushed across Jess and went back to their hostess. ‘I come bearing gifts, Kim. Does that make it better? Outside, in my case. Whisky. Shortbread. Pretty things.’

      ‘So, where is Natalie?’ Jess’s question cut across the room.

      He stopped in his tracks. ‘In Shrewsbury with the children.’ His voice was cold. ‘We agreed that Rome in summer was not the ideal place for kids. Not when they have the chance to spend fun time with the grandparents.’

      ‘And what was it that you had to do so urgently in Rome?’ Jess asked harshly. Will and Steph were eyeing her speculatively.

      He smiled. ‘Don’t you remember, Jess? I thought I told you exactly what I need to do. I told Nat I’ve come to attend an educational conference.’

      ‘I didn’t know there was one.’ She managed to keep her voice steady as she walked towards the door. ‘Goodnight.’

      ‘Goodnight, Jess,’ Will replied softly.

      She flashed him a smile. For a moment she had forgotten he was there.

      In the hall she stood for a second trying to gather her thoughts. Behind her she heard a burst of laughter from inside the room. What in God’s name was she going to do now?

      Pulling her bedroom door closed after her, she discovered a huge ornate key in the lock. It turned easily and she paused with it in her hand, trying to calm herself. She was safe for now. Never in a million years could he break down this huge heavy door. What was he going to do here anyway with three other people in the apartment?

      Walking over to the window she pulled open the casements and stood looking out. The other three sides of the palazzo were all in darkness. The central courtyard below, with its formal pots and statues and its fountain were invisible. Only the sound of the water floated through the night on the hot city air. Leaving the windows open, she turned towards her bed.

      A figure was standing about ten feet from her on the faded Aubusson carpet.

      ‘Eigon?’ she whispered. Her whole body went cold.

      There was no mistaking her. The child was small, delicate, her wild dark hair tied into a bundle at the nape of her neck. She was wearing some sort of pale long tunic. There were silver bangles at her wrists. Jess stared at her. ‘You came. You heard Carmella –’ But the figure was fading before her eyes. She could see the carpet through the fine gauze of the dress, then the bed. Then she had gone.

      ‘Eigon?’ Jess called sharply. ‘Wait! I want to help you!’

      She sat down on the low velvet chair beside the window and suddenly she was shaking. She had seen the child; made eye contact. Eigon had come to find her.

      Jess eyed the door. She wanted Steph. She needed to talk to Steph, but to do that she would have to unlock the door.

      Getting up she tiptoed across to it and put her ear to the heavy panelling. What the fuck was Dan doing, following her here? A wave of anger shot through her fear. Did he intend to try and intimidate her into silence? Or did he still intend to kill her?

      She paced away from the door, shaking her head. That was idiotic. Of course he didn’t. He never had. That was sheer melodramatic nonsense. He had managed to scare her and she had overreacted. All she had to do was reassure him that she wasn’t going to tell anyone what he had done. After all, she wasn’t. Was she? She shivered suddenly. A cold breeze strayed in through the windows, stirring the heavy curtains.

      There was a creak on the landing on the far side of the door. She froze. There was someone out there. Pressing her ear closer to the wood she listened intently. Silence. She sensed someone had paused outside the door. ‘Dan?’ She mouthed the word soundlessly. Slowly the handle began to turn. The door creaked slightly as it was pushed from the outside. The lock held firm and she heard a quiet chuckle. A man’s voice. Dan or Will? Did she even need to ask?

      She hurried to the window and looked out. As she had thought, there was no way up to her room that way. The wall was high and there were no creepers or drainpipes on the outside. The lower part of the casement had an ornate wrought iron grille across it, more of a container for pots than a protection. There was no way anyone could get in from there. And no way of escape either.

       11

      Miserably Eigon hugged the pillow to her, muffling the sound of her tears. Outside she could hear the sounds of the big city all around her. The rattle of wagon wheels in the early morning light, the shouts of street vendors and in the distance the deeper throaty sound of a huge crowd gathering. It was a day of festival and triumph. The Emperor was to process through the streets of Rome to celebrate his successes. Behind him would follow symbols of his glorious victories, treasures of gold and jewellery, richly caparisoned horses, ornately collared hunting dogs, weapons and above all, his captives from Gaul and from Britannia, and most important of those was the captive king, her father, with his wife and daughter. The outer door of the prison clanged open and she heard the shouts of the men outside with a shudder. They were coming for them. Bringing chains to hammer onto their wrists and ankles. And after the procession, they would be dragged out into the sandy arena and killed. Her mother and father had tried to prevent her hearing their fate, but she had listened. She had crept closer and strained her ears to hear their whispered conversations. She had heard the guards talking, heard their cruel chuckles, seen their lascivious glances as they discussed how long it would take the beautiful wife of the British leader to die.

      ‘We are proud and we are royal,’ her father had told her again the night before. ‘We will go to our deaths, if that is what the gods have ordained, with dignity and courage. Think of your next life, my child. This is just one of many. Our pain will be quickly over and there will be many lifetimes for you again. He had pulled her close to him and kissed her on the top of her head. ‘I shall be proud of you tomorrow, Eigon. You will hold your head high and you will show the people of Rome that we are not ignorant peasants as they believe. We are noble and educated and as good as they are. Better. They have lost touch with the gods of the land in their quest for conquest. This city may be vast, there may be hundreds of thousands of people here, but if their spirits languish and their souls are lost then they are nothing compared to us. Remember that, my daughter.’ He had glanced over her head at Cerys and smiled with sad resignation.

      The sound of marching men rang through the stone walls and Eigon shrank further under her blanket. She heard the sharp bark of a command and the men came to a halt, the nails of their boots as they stamped to attention a crisp double report on the roadway somewhere nearby.

      A shadow fell across the bed. ‘Eigon. It is time to get up.’ It was her mother. Cerys was pale, but resolute as she waited for Eigon to scramble miserably out of the bed. They had been brought fresh СКАЧАТЬ