Barbarian's Soul: A Historical Romance Page 7

  Damon rubbed one thumb along his chin as he contemplated the question. “Coin would never be located. It’s already been used in the wine shop or a brothel.”

  The image of the girl raising a goblet in a taverna with his necklace round her neck caused Bran to grind his teeth. Another more disturbing image of her lying with her legs spread beneath him brought a low growl to his throat and an instant thickening of his cock.

  Damon gave him a speculative look. “This property must be very valuable...or very important. You own no slaves so it cannot involve a runaway. I’ve been to your lodgings and they would put the Spartans to shame so sparse are your belongings. No insult intended,” he hastened to add when Bran pinned him with a dark look. “What type of property did you have taken?”

  “Jewels,” he answered through tight lips

  Damon tilted his head, a puzzled frown crinkling his forehead.

  “Jewelry,” Bran amended when Damon did not respond. “Five pieces worth five hundred of your Roman aureus.”

  A rare look of surprise crossed Damon’s face before he said, “There is only one person I know with the funds and the temerity to deal with that level of stolen goods.”

  “Where do I find him?” Bran was growing impatient. If he delayed overlong Paulin would cancel their agreement.

  Damon shook his head. “You don’t find him, Tiege finds you. But I can tell you the general area in the district where he makes his nest...at least the last time I visited.” He gave Bran a calculating look. “You must understand. The underworld of the city is a very dangerous place.”

  “I was a gladiator.” The cold in his gut seeped into his voice. “This underworld of yours counts as nothing next to the arena.”

  “I attended the games once, while on a mission for that bastard, Tertius,” Damon mused. He paused, the look in his eyes telling Bran he’d not been immune to what he’d witnessed, the kind of brutality the fighters had inflicted. A rare thing, as most Romans reveled in the carnage. “Tiege is a powerful overlord of the Aventine. He has a hand in most everything from doling out the corn ration to the management of brothels and controlling a vast network of thieves. Political bribes allow him to prosper and he reigns by fear. You will be hard-pressed to find anyone brave enough or stupid enough to go against him.”

  “I do not fear him.”

  Damon gave a slight smile. “Of course you do not. Tiege has been known to hold court in a large tenement next to the temple of Laverna, the goddess of thieves, and obviously enjoys irony.”

  “Damon?”

  Bran followed the Roman’s gaze to the doorway where Damon’s wife Julia stood clutching a gossamer robe closed—barely—over her breasts. Her eyes were bright, her neck flushed, and her lush, pink mouth swollen from the kisses he’d interrupted. “Is there something amiss?”

  “Nothing, goddess,” Damon answered in a soothing tone, shooting Bran a dark look over his shoulder as he crossed to his wife.

  Bran tamped down a spike of envy as Damon stroked his wife’s cheek with one finger, leaned close to her and murmured something too low for him to hear. He could guess what it was from the heat that fired in the lady’s eyes. Stretching up on her toes, she gave her husband a slow, deep kiss before turning on her heel. From the look she shot over her shoulder, the Roman would not be getting any more sleep.

  “Is there anything else?” asked Damon, his impatience reflected plainly on his face.

  “No.”

  Damon inclined his head. “Thanks are not necessary.”

  Bran scowled at the jab and stalked past Basil who stood ready to escort him from the domus.

  “Barbarian?”

  Bran halted, fought the surge of annoyance. Did the man think to goad him with that appellation?

  “Bran?”

  Bran faced Damon, frowned at the concern he read in the other man’s eyes.

  “Be cautious. I’m very fond of Bryna. I would not see her mourn the loss of the brother she suffered so much for—including marriage to that stubborn former master of mine.”

  He gave a curt nod. “On that we are agreed, Roman.”

  ***

  “Bring me the whore!”

  Adria started at the graveled shout, grabbed the rotten wooden beam beside her and sucked in a hard breath. Only when she realized that Tiege was not talking about her, had not spotted her on her perch high above his lair, was she able to slow her pounding heart.

  Shifting around on the narrow ledge of the small window high above the room, she watched a naked woman led by a leather thong wrapped around her neck brought to the dais where the master thief sat sprawled on a carved sedan chair. His throne, she thought grimly, or at least in Tiege’s over-inflated perception of his importance, it was a throne.

  Even in the poor light of the oil lamps Adria could see the woman trembling. A twinge of pity went through her at the lash marks that marred her skin. Her hair was a tangled mess and Adria’s heart broke when the man leading her pulled her hands away from her attempt to cover herself. Tiege accepted the end of the leash, wound it in his fist and pulled her to him. Like an animal, Adria thought with disgust.

  She was not even a true whore but the wife of the butcher Parius who owed the thief a modest gambling debt. Everyone in the district knew that until Parius repaid the amount due, with interest, his wife was to be a guest of Tiege’s.

  The woman’s features were drawn and weary and bruises covered a good portion of her body. Adria could see the vacant look in her eyes. She’d already been well used by Tiege’s men multiple times there in the common room. Adria turned her head as Tiege forced the woman to kneel between his legs and pleasure him.

  The bastard will do the same to you.

  Adria’s stomach clutched. Gods, if only there were some other way. She glanced back down, saw that the woman was finished and weeping as Tiege signaled one of his men forward. The master thief was the only broker able to pay coin and who was arrogant enough to defy the authorities—or rather, gain their silence—with the same coin. She sighed. Nothing had gone as she wished since slipping into Paulin’s house. Nothing had gone as she wished since she’d seen him.

  An unexplained heat cut through the dread in Adria’s gut at the thought of the fearsome barbarian and that only frightened her more. She’d never expected him to discover she’d taken the jewelry nor attempt to reclaim it. Even now she could feel the force of his anger as he’d speared her with those extraordinary green eyes.

  The man had exuded a supreme confidence that had both fascinated and scared the wits out of her. There had been moments during the harrowing chase when she’d thought he might catch her. She’d never felt such fear before—the fear of being caught, the fear of failure. Adria pursed her lips. She never wanted to feel it again.

  Adria focused on the activity below. Parius’ wife knelt at Tiege’s feet like a pet while his underlings presented him with the spoils from their night’s work. She counted no less than fifteen men and a few younger boys who seemed to have had more success than the adults in their efforts. But even their large sacks of silver plates and modest purses did not satisfy their master.

  “Imbeciles!” Tiege screamed, kicking a dented silver chalice off the dais. “You bring me trinkets!” He leaned forward and grabbed one of the urchins by the neck of his tunic. “You have two days to meet your quota or I’ll sell you to the Imperial game master—as fodder for his beasts!”

  Adria did not doubt his threat, nor, apparently, did the boy whose face drained of all color before he scrambled out of Tiege’s reach.

  She took another deep breath. Her resolve would not grow any stronger waiting. She slid her knife from its sheath, took one of the bracelets out of the sack and tossed it below. It bounced once off the bald head of drunken man before landing with a thunk at Tiege’s feet. “Does that meet with your approval?”

  She broke into a cold sweat when as one, the assembly stared up at but it was Tiege’s narrowed gaze that had her fighting the urge to jump b
ack out the window. It’s for Miriam and the children, she chanted in her head, it is for your family.

  “Bitch,” Tiege drawled in a menacing tone, “come down here.”

  Adria forced a laugh, hoped it didn’t sound as strangled as it felt. “I think not, master thief.” She fingered her knife, saw his gaze darken as he remembered their last encounter. Gods, why was she goading him? She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Our last meeting was not particularly amiable.”

  A thin smile curved his lips. “You refuse my hospitality? That is an offense I find hard to overlook.”

  Adria pressed her lips together to keep from pointing out his offensiveness. “Ah, but can you overlook the treasure before you?”

  She watched as Tiege dropped his eyes to the bracelet. One could always count on greed. Tiege snapped his fingers and Parius’ wife scrambled on hands and knees to retrieve it. Adria waited, her heart beating in her chest like a drum as he studied it. Even someone as repulsive as Tiege could not deny its beauty.

  She’d had some time to examine her bounty after evading the dark barbarian, had needed time to calm her shattered nerves and her bounding heart. Never had Adria seen such finely crafted adornments. The metal was of the finest silver, the purple gems rich and vibrant. She’d marveled as she traced her finger along the intricate etchings, the strange patterns of interlocking loops and swirls. A simplistic design made all the more stunning for it.

  “A bit out of your league. Found it by the fruit stand, did you?”

  His followers burst into laughter. Adria waited, noted that two of his men, who had slipped out as she’d announced her presence returned, puzzled expressions on their faces which quickly turned to anxiety at Tiege’s questioning look. They’d no doubt tried to discover how she’d managed to bypass their guards. It hadn’t been difficult. The two men set to the task had been passed out, empty wineskins in their hands. Even awake they never would have thought to look to the rooftops.

  Showing any trace of fear would give Tiege a valuable weapon. It was how men of his sort gained and held the power they possessed. Adria leaned back against the side of the window, schooled her expression into one of indifference. “You yourself said I was wasting my talents.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I considered the matter and decided you were right.”

  Tiege glanced at the bracelet in his hand then gave her a shrewd look. “It’s a fair prize but hardly worth the effort—or the risk—you took to bring it to me.”

  The threat was hard to ignore but she managed to keep her voice level when she spoke. “Consider that a gift, then. But this—” she slid the necklace out and held it up. A few gasps preceded a general murmuring among his men. “This you could sell easily for five hundred aureus, perhaps more. I expect only half that amount.”

  Bargaining. She was daring to bargain with the most notorious criminal in the district. She was mad.

  At the sight of the necklace, Tiege’s eyes fair sparkled with avarice, a vice that she would work to her advantage—and survival.

  “I have a matching bracelet to the one you hold.” The earring whose mate she had somehow lost, was tucked inside a pouch hung on a cord around her neck and tucked beneath her tunic. “I’m sure with your vast network you will be able to find a suitable buyer.”

  Tiege studied her for a long time. Adria refused to look away. She needed this coin. Miriam and her children needed this coin.

  “It is a unique design,” mused the master thief. He grabbed the naked woman’s arm and snapped it on, studied it. “The owner may be looking for it.”

  An image of the sensual god-man flashed in her mind. Adria shivered. “No, they are not,” she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand which she hoped Tiege could not see trembled. “My skill is too great. It will be days before it is discovered missing.”

  “Bring the necklace down and I will give you one hundred aureus,” Tiege drawled.

  Bryna scoffed. “One hundred? Do not insult me.”

  “And do not test me, young one.” His tone was deadly.

  Adria swallowed past the lump in her throat that had just doubled in size. She had to believe that the master thief’s greed would outweigh his desire for revenge. She glanced at the naked woman and shivered.

  “One-hundred-and-fifty aureus. For the necklace.”

  Tiege came to his feet. “One-hundred-and-twenty-five for the necklace and the matching cuff.”

  Adria calculated in her head. That would be enough for Miriam and her children to stay in the apartment for the rest of the year, especially without the added cost of her residing with them. The realization that she would have to leave had come the minute she’d humiliated Tiege by the abandoned bakery. She did not want him to track her there and endanger her friends. She would keep a small amount aside and disappear. Where, she could not guess, but knew it had to be far away from Tiege’s grasp.

  “Agreed,” she answered.

  Tiege nodded. “Bring it down then and I will give you the coin.”

  Adria scoffed. “I have not lost my senses in such a short time.” She nodded toward the woman. “Send her with the money to the top of the stairs.”

  She held her breath when Tiege hesitated. The man was arrogant and a bastard—a fearsome combination. Prod such a beast with a stick and you risked your hand being torn off.

  The silence in the room stretched her nerves to the breaking point. She’d never been particularly spiritual in belief or practice, but Adria prayed now as she picked up the stick—the necklace—and lifted it so that the silver caught the meager rays of light and sparkled.

  A low-throated growl preceded Tiege’s roared “Mardo!”

  A dwarf with knotted hair and a long, trailing goatee scurried out from behind a wide chest. He bowed to Tiege, nodding his head at his master’s whispered instructions. Adria’s gaze followed the little man as he went through a side door, returning in an amazing amount of time with a small leather pouch.

  “Girl, you realize I will not let this matter of impudence go unpunished,” drawled Tiege as he glanced in the pouch.

  “I would expect no less,” she replied, a sinking, cold dread that she would never find safe haven from his revenge settling in her belly.

  Tiege tossed the bag to his captive. Legs visibly shaking, Parius’ wife half-crawled, half-climbed the crumbling stairs. Adria shoved the necklace back into the cloth bag and waited until the woman was within an arm’s length before she held out her hand. “Give me the pouch.”

  The woman raised her eyes and Adria bit back a curse at the misery shadowed in their brown depths. Gods, there had to be something she could do to help. She glanced down at the common room. Tiege was watching them with rapt attention.

  Adria took the pouch then leaned across to hand the woman the sack. “There is an iron bucket behind the kitchen of the temple,” she whispered. “I will leave twenty quadrans beneath it.”

  A mixture of surprise and gratitude crossed the woman’s features. She gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, grasped the sack to her bare chest and darted down the stairs.

  Adria wasted no time. It was pure terror, instead of the usual thrill she felt at procuring an item, that had her heart pounding against her ribs as she swung her legs through the window. She stretched out, reached for the narrow ledge with her foot. Behind her she heard Tiege shouting for his men to catch the bitch on pain of death. Not wanting to contemplate how painful the death would be if he caught her, she inched her way along the ridge of the roof, finding handholds in the chipped mortar as she went.

  She gave a small shriek when she lost her footing near the corner but managed to regain her balance. She forced herself to slow her breathing. If she panicked she would fall right into Tiege’s hands—literally. From the confused cacophony of voices below her she knew she had precious few moments before they deduced her escape route.

  Adria took three more cautious steps, relieved when she found the wooden plank she’d laid between the roofs of the tenement
and temple still in place. She quickly crossed, then slid the unwieldy board over the edge, grinning at the loud screech when it landed on one of Tiege’s men.

  She had no time to waste. With a death grip on the pouch, Adria raced across the flat roof of the building. From the temple beneath her she heard chanting. The acolytes of the deity must be performing a ritual. With apologies to the resident goddess Laverna she whispered a prayer of thanks to another goddess, Fortuna. It would be a simple matter for her to slip among the worshipers and evade Tiege’s men.

  A flickering light illumed the stairway opening leading to the central room of the temple. Adria crept along the wall, careful not to make any noise. An unnecessary precaution since the chatter from the ceremony would mask the noise of a charging bull.

  Reaching the bottom step, she spared a glance at the ring of red-robed priests and stopped in her tracks. They were bowing before the effigy of a woman with long, flowing hair holding a pouch and poised to flee. Adria flipped her long braid behind her and stared at the bag in her own hand.

  Gods, she just wanted to be gone, wanted to be somewhere safe. Knowing the front entrance led straight to Tiege’s door, she slipped around the altar and hurried along a narrow hall to the rear of the temple. A kitchen slave raised her head, any surprise at her sudden appearance hidden behind a practiced expression of indifference. Adria ignored it and stepped outside.

  With swift movements, she counted out the money she’d promised Parius’ wife, found the bucket and placed the coins beneath it. With one foot she eased it into the shadows and said another prayer no one would steal it before the woman could retrieve it. Added another prayer that the woman would live to retrieve it. The gate that led to the back street and safety was only a few feet away. At her first step the fine hair at the nape of her neck stood on end.