Empire's Edge, page 5
Abria glanced left and right. "I saw your friend last night."
"Don't you mean afternoon?" Megan asked and Abria stared blankly at her.
"At the games?" Megan asked, miming fighting with a sword.
Abria shook her head. "Some of us were taken to the ludus for the gladiators as a reward for how well they had fought."
Megan’s heart sank; had Hugh been with her? In a way she couldn't have blamed him, I mean she was really pretty.
"I told him I had seen you."
Oh God, that made it worse Megan thought, especially after he had seen her in the crowd the previous day.
"Did the two of you . . . you know." Abria shrugged.
Megan resorted to mime once more, sticking her finger in and out of a hole made with thumb and forefinger of the other hand.
Abria giggled. "No, he wouldn't, because of you." Megan’s shoulders sagged with relief and she smiled.
"Really, because of me?" She pointed to herself.
Abria smiled and nodded. "His friend though." She widened her eyes.
"But Dafydd is almost old enough to be your father." Megan realized how stupid her comment was. Abria was a, how did they put it? 'Lady of the night'. It wasn't as if they were dating, now that would have been gross.
"Afterward he handed me this to give to you." She passed Megan a folded up pieced of parchment. She stuck it inside her dress, tucking it under the silver braid at her waist.
"Thank you," Megan said. Abria smiled again, kissed Megan on the cheek and headed off along the back alley as the first drops of rain fell.
"It's raining," Megan yelled, dumping the rugs on the floor. There was no answer, so she slinked into her room, sat on the bed, and retrieved the paper Abria had given her.
Dear Megan, it was good to see your face if only for a moment yesterday. I'm sure you were surprised to see me. I will explain everything when next I see you, which hopefully will be soon. In the meantime, be wary of Osian. My half-brother is not to be trusted. Fondest regards, Dafydd.
Megan re-read the last sentence to make sure her eyes had not been deceiving her. They hadn't — it said half-brother.
CHAPTER 10 - Gossip Monger
Osian glanced around the reception area; multiple lamps illuminated a mural depicting a pale naked woman straddling a tanned naked man. He frowned; the House of Petronius was not somewhere he frequented. Truth be told, he found it distasteful, but needs must.
"Ah, Gaius Augustus, we don’t often see you here."
Osian span around. The man who had hailed him was short and balding.
"You never see me here, Petronius," he replied haughtily.
Petronius chuckled nervously. "Hmm, indeed. Yet, you find yourself here now."
"I am looking for a girl," Osian stated, blankly.
"My customers usually are, and we cater for most tastes."
Osian eyed Petronius through narrowing slits. "Long black hair, petite. Local Briton."
Petronius grinned. "I believe I know to whom you are referring. The girl’s name is Abria, and may I commend you on your choice." He clapped his hands and shouted, "Cassia, where are you girl?"
A young teenage girl emerged from the rear of the building.
"Is Abria here?" Petronius asked. The young girl nodded.
"Inform her that she has a visitor. A very important visitor." His ingratiating smile made Osian’s skin crawl.
"And be quick about it."
The girl scurried off.
The two men waited in silence until the girl reappeared. "She is ready for you, sir. If you’d care to follow me?"
Osian trailed after her deeper into the bowels of the building. She stopped in front of a room and pulled back the curtains.
It took a few seconds for him to adjust to the lack of illumination in the room, it was even more dimly lit than the rest of the building.
The girl, named Abria was sitting on a low bed — the only stick of furniture present, leaving no doubt as to the rooms purpose.
Abria patted the mattress. "Come, sit next to me," she said, in a quiet voice.
Osian strode over and plonked down next to her.
She reached into his tunic and stroked his chest. "What is your pleasure, sir?"
He recoiled slightly. "I have a proposition for you." Abria withdrew her hand and leaned away from him.
"I don’t think Master Petronius would like you talking in such a way."
"I don’t much care what the fat, bald futuo likes or doesn’t like."
The faintest of smiles cracked Abria’s lips.
"I have it on good authority that you talk with the girl from the ‘Boar’s Head’."
Abria shrugged. "So what, it’s not a crime is it?" she snapped.
Osian smiled. "Not that I am aware of, no. All I wish for you to do is befriend her, and report back to me should anything interesting happen. Especially if it relates to the ludus."
"And what is in it for me?" Abria asked.
Osian frowned. "Straight down to business." He glanced around the dingily lit room. "Given your occupation, I should not be surprised I suppose. I could threaten to have the skin flayed from your back if you refuse me, but I’m far more reasonable than that.
If any information you provide leads to me acquiring what I want, then I will furnish you with enough coin to buy your way out of whatever agreement you have with Petronius and set yourself up wherever you may please."
Abria considered Osian’s words for a moment. "How do I know you are telling the truth?"
He reached into the folds of his tunic and pulled out a leather purse. He rummaged inside and handed four coins over. Abria’s brows flicked skyward.
"When you say the ludus, do you mean the young man there?" she asked.
Osian’s smile broadened. "Indeed; the young man. There is also another man there, who would likely be friends with him."
"I think I know the man you speak of. I visited with him the evening of the games."
The smile fell from Osian’s lips. "Did you indeed?" He held out his hand. "Do we have an accord?"
Abria nodded and grasped the proffered palm. She yelped as Osian squeezed her hand and pulled her face close to hers. She could smell the garlic on his breath when he spoke in a hoarse whisper.
"And don’t think about trying to deceive me, whore. Or you will wish all I had done was flay the skin from your back."
He released her hand and sat back with his legs spread wide.
"As I am already here, you may as well pleasure me."
Abria knelt in front of him and lifted up his tunic.
"Why should my half-brother have all the fun," he muttered as Abria lowered her head.
Ω
Caitrin had gone out and was trusting — as she'd put it — Megan with cleaning the glasses she reserved for her high-ranking customers. It had been two days since Abria had given Dafydd's letter to her and Megan had carried on with her existence as usual. What choice did she have? Dafydd and Hugh were always on her mind though. Then there was Osian, she hadn't seen him either since the day of the fight.
Megan heard the door open and shortly after a slightly forced laugh.
"You sit down Domitia, I'll have the girl fetch us some wine." Caitrin was back.
Megan picked up a glass and started polishing.
"There you are; haven't you finished those glasses yet?"
Megan held it up to the light and put it down onto the bar with a flourish. "Last one."
Caitrin shook her head. "Never mind that; fetch some wine. The good stuff in the pot with the blue bands painted around it."
Megan peered over her shoulder into the bar. "New friend?" she asked, her tone earning her a scowl from Caitrin.
"Not that it is any of your business, but that is Domitia Aurelius, sister of the governor. She is visiting from Londinium. My Septimus served under her brother in the Caledonian wars."
Megan smiled to herself. That explained why the cantankerous old goat Septimus was so well regarded. She located the pot, removed the hessian cloth that protected the opening from flies, then filled a smaller jug. This she placed on a tray next to two of the glasses she'd been cleaning; then she walked over to where they were sitting.
"I believe I missed some gladiatorial games."
Caitrin nodded. "Not one of our major festivals, but enjoyable all the same."
So says the women who didn't even enter the stadium, Megan thought. The toadying on display was enough to make her stomach turn.
The lady replied. "The legate mentioned two new fighters; both appeared out of the blue within days of each other. Britons who speak Latin apparently. They put on a fine show he said."
Megan’s ears pricked up. So, whatever had happened to Dafydd, he'd arrived roughly the same time as her and Hugh. The lady carried on talking as Megan placed the glasses in front of them and filled them up with wine. She retreated a discrete distance away and carried on listening.
"I believe that Gaius Augustus Triarius; do you know him? Anyway, I hear that he wishes to take them on tour; have them fight throughout Britannia. He thinks the fact they speak Latin will help unify the country. Sounds like nonsense to me. If these Barbarians don't want to be civilized, on their heads be it."
Normally Megan would have little time for over talkative woman or girls who think they're something special, but she was making an exception for this spoiled bitch, who was inadvertently passing on some vital information.
So, Osian wanted to move Hugh and Dafydd away from Deva. Whatever his reasoning and she doubted it was benevolent, one thing was for certain, it had nothing to do with unifying the country.
"Our glasses are empty," Caitrin snapped; Megan dutifully stepped forward and filled them. Well, just the one; her guest had barely touched hers; she was far too busy talking.
"I said to my brother, surely they will recall you to Rome soon? I mean it's not as bad as Gaul here, but the weather . . ."
Megan let her mind mull over the situation as she continued to bitch about living in Britannia. How could she warn Dafydd and Hugh what Osian was planning?
Ω
Megan let the governor's sister out and turned back to the bar. Caitrin was asleep, head slumped on the table; driven to drink by the endless prattle of a Roman socialite.
Megan had chores to get on with — didn't she always — but Septimus was still not back from wherever he'd disappeared to. She recalled Caitrin saying something about a reunion.
With the light fading, Megan came to a decision. After bolting the front door, she exited out of the rear. She needed to find Abria, and with nighttime approaching Megan presumed she would be getting ready for work. Time to visit the building two doors down.
Megan didn't encounter anybody as she made her way down the back street to the House of Petronius. She yanked on the door handle, but it was locked. She cursed under her breath; now she’d have to enter via the front door.
Megan slinked around the building, keeping close to the whitewashed walls. She stopped at the corner, glancing left and right. The baker from across the way was walking down the street. Megan pressed herself against the wall and prayed he didn't see her. The last thing she needed was him sticking his nose in.
"Cunomoltus." The voice rang out from across the street and the bakery owner stopped and waved. Megan willed him to walk over and talk to the person who had called out his name.
For twenty long seconds he stood there; then he shouted back.
"I'll see you over there." He strode off towards the bakery.
Megan eased herself around the corner and headed for the front of the building before anyone else appeared. She tried the door and it opened.
Inside was dimly lit, dingy even. The flickering lamps illuminated a colorful mural on the wall. It depicted a pale naked woman straddling a tanned naked man. Megan stared at it for a few seconds, before realizing she was not alone. Two older women were sitting on the opposite side of the room. They were both topless, and when they stood, Megan could see that both had on similar skirts, green and extremely short.
The oldest looking of the two asked, "Are you lost my dear?"
No, I was err looking for a girl." Megan helpfully traced the outline of a female body.
The younger of the two women stepped forward fondling her breasts.
"Anyone in particular my lovely?" Her voice was husky.
"Abria," Megan blurted out.
Before either of the women had a chance to comment, a man's voice rang out.
"What in Hades is going on here?" The two women shrank back.
He looked Megan up and down. "Aren't you the serving girl from the Boar's Head?"
Megan smiled at him and backed up toward the door.
"Not so fast."
He lunged and grabbed hold of her wrist. Megan twisted it in the direction of his thumb breaking the grip, then backfisted him in the face.
The women gasped, but before their pimp, or whoever the hell he was, could recover, Megan caught him on the temple with the tip of her elbow; a strike her dad would have been proud of. The younger woman screamed as the man crumpled to the floor.
Curtains were yanked apart and heads popped out of rooms, one of them was Abria. She took in the scene with wide eyes.
Megan walked over and reached out a hand. "Let's go."
"What did you do to Petronius?" she asked.
Oh, so that was the owner, Megan thought — whoops.
"You take me to the ludus?" Megan asked, miming the action of fighting.
"I'll get in trouble," Abria said.
Megan smiled. "You'll be safe."
That of course wasn't strictly true, Megan didn't know if either of them would be safe. There wasn't a great chance of her plan succeeding, there wasn’t really much of a plan. She was winging it. But without Abria, she had no chance.
Abria glanced at the unconscious Petronius and thought about the man who had visited her the previous day. His name she had learned was Gaius Augustus. This was her opportunity, and she was going to take it.
Grabbing Megan’s hand she said, "We'll leave out of the back."
CHAPTER 11 - A New Experience
In the half-light of dusk, the stadium loomed ominously over them. In their haste to escape they had departed without a torch to light the way.
"Is it far?" Megan asked, accompanied by one of her customary mimes.
Abria shook her head.
Megan’s plan, such as it was, involved Abria seducing whoever had the keys to the ludus at this hour. If that worked and they broke Hugh and Dafydd out, then . . . well, hopefully Dafydd would have some bright ideas about how they would get away from the fortress without a legion of Roman soldiers tracking them down.
They veered off the main road and followed a narrower path leading away from the stadium. Abria stopped and pointed toward a rectangular building, which like most in the town had whitewashed walls and a red-tiled roof. It was bigger than Megan had been expecting and she wondered for a moment if this wasn't one of the stupider ideas she'd ever had. And there was some stiff competition in there as well. Abria yanked Megan out of her contemplation, and they walked the final fifty yards hand in hand.
The double gate at the end of the road was secured with a length of chain and a padlock. No one was in sight. Abria grabbed the chain and rattled it. In the silence of early evening the noise sounded loud enough to wake the dead. Then they waited.
Finally, a figure loomed out of the shadows; a rather fat one. He carried a lit torch, the light illuminating his features, which were not pleasant. He was also bald, or his hair was cropped so close to his skull as made no difference.
He ran the torch light over Megan and Abria, and his mouth broke into a crooked smile.
"Aren't you one of the whores from the other night? What's the matter love, did you not get enough cock?" He grasped his crotch and contorted his face into a leer. It made him look uglier, which Megan hadn't imagined possible.
He peered through the bars. "I don't recognize this one though; is she your little girlfriend?"
Abria nodded, pulled Megan into her and they locked lips. Megan went to pull away, but Abria held her firm and when her lips parted, Megan found herself swept away in the moment. Abria eventually pulled away, leaving Megan open-mouthed. Abria turned back toward the man and ran her tongue over her lips. For a moment, it looked like he might start salivating.
"Want to see what we do next?" she asked, in a previously unheard husky voice.
His face creased into a frown; an internal battle raging between guard duty and hormones. In the end nature won out.
"I shouldn't be opening the gate at this hour, but don't suppose it'll hurt." He produced a ring of keys and inserted one into the lock.
"There's an empty cell up on the left, we won't be disturbed." He locked the gate behind him.
They passed three cells that were occupied, and Megan glanced into each, but didn't see Hugh or Dafydd. The man in the last one whistled at them.
"Shut it," the fat man hissed.
He pushed open the door to the fourth cell.
"Here we are ladies." He chuckled to himself at his sarcastic emphasis on the last word. He held open the door and gave each of them a slap on the ass as they passed.
He sat on a rectangular stone block that presumably acted as a bed.
"Right, let's see a bit more." He sat back, waiting to be entertained.
Abria rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. "Cash first."
He rummaged about his person, pulled out a couple of coins and tossed them on the floor.
Megan stood there with no idea what to do. Fortunately, she was in experienced hands. Abria stepped forward and for the second time in five minutes pressed her lips against Megan’s. She grabbed the back of Megan’s head, and her tongue parted her lips. Swept away in the moment, Megan grabbed Abria’s hair as their tongues met.
A gruff voice broke the moment.
"Take her dress off."
Abria broke away, and slowly slipped one side of the dress off Megan’s left shoulder — okay, she thought, this is getting a bit crazy. Was it necessary? She thought of Hugh and Dafydd somewhere in the building and stood still as the dress cleared the other shoulder, slithering to the stone floor. Instinctively, Megan’s hands shot across her boobs and between her legs. The guard laughed.
