Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(128)

Semni scanned the gaggle of women and children. “The boys are already tired.”

He glanced at his charges. “There’s not much choice. We can’t stay here.”

“We’ll stick out like sore thumbs. You, in particular.”

“Don’t give up before we’ve even started. Now, come on.”

Perca moaned as she struggled to her feet, then staggered. Arruns hefted her into his arms.

Arnth seemed to have found an extra reserve of strength. He pushed past Tas to be the first after the lictor. Tas also showed resilience. He bade Larce to remember he was a prince, as the middle brother dragged his feet and whined. Larce straightened his shoulders, his competitive spirit rising to the surface.

Aricia fell in behind the boys as they pushed through the brush. Semni and Nerie trailed at the end of the queue. Soon she heard the sound of flowing water. Arruns stopped short, keeping cover in a thicket. There was a line of new willows trailing fronds in the river, green and peaceful. Semni licked her lips. She was thirsty, her throat parched.

Arruns scanned the ridge for Romans, then signaled them forward to the willows, lowering Perca to the ground once he’d reach the trees. The party scrambled under the bower, the thin fronds forming a roof of greenery above them.

“Give me one of the necklaces,” he said.

Semni slid her hand down the neck of her dress and pulled out the queen’s pearls. She noticed Tas’s eyes widening as he recognized his mother’s possession. Arruns stuffed the jewelry into the pouch at his waist.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” he said. “Stay hidden in the willows. Be quiet.”

She clutched his arm. “Don’t leave us.”

He peeled her fingers away and squeezed them. “I will return.” Both knew it was a tenuous promise. And if he could not keep it, they would be doomed.

Arruns threaded his way through the scrub at the edge of the bank and disappeared. After everyone had slaked their thirst, Semni leaned her back against the willow’s trunk. The clamor from the city drifted to them. She wondered if she would still hear it when she was far away, an indelible noise at the back of her mind.

“Rest,” she said to the boys. “We’ve a long journey ahead when Arruns returns.”

Tas remained anxious. “But what if we fall asleep? The Romans might get us.”

“Hush. We’ll watch over you,” said Aricia.

Nerie settled onto his mother’s lap. She stroked his fair hair until he fell asleep. Perca also curled up and closed her eyes. Tas remained alert, peeping through the leaves to keep watch for Arruns. The younger princes clustered beside him.

Semni covered Aricia’s hand, keeping her voice low. “Do you actually know what happened in the temple?”

The girl’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It happened so suddenly. One moment the chamber was hushed, with only the sound of Lord Mastarna invoking Uni. I couldn’t see him or the queen because the statue was in the way. Then the rug hiding the secret shaft moved. The trap door rose in front of me and was flung open. There were so many of them. I was too shocked to cry out. They were stealthy, fanning out as each one broke free of the shaft. Mother was holding Thia and screaming.”

“Did the Romans hurt them?”

Aricia covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know! I was a coward. I ran and escaped through the passage leading from the workroom. I thought I might be able to warn you to get the princes out. But then I could not open the Medusa hatch.” Tears trickled between her fingers.

She encircled Aricia’s shoulder with her arm. “I doubt you could have helped anyone. You would’ve been captured if you’d shown yourself. You were brave to try and find us.”

Aricia leaned against her shoulder. “Mother and I were going to spend time together at the feast. She said she was proud of me for training as a priestess.”

Semni squeezed her. “Then you made peace. That’s the most important thing to remember. We must pray the enemy shows mercy. And that they would not harm a baby.”

Time crawled. Semni strained to hear any sound that might herald Arruns’s return. Or worse, that Romans were approaching.

Tas suddenly turned to her. “I can see a boat.”

All of them swiveled their heads around to Semni. Somehow she had become their leader. She placed her finger to her lips before scuttling forward to peer through the branches.

A barge was approaching. A Roman soldier was in its fore, another man at the tiller.

The boat drew closer, then slowed, turning its prow to the bank. Semni wondered if she should shout to the others to run. Then she noticed the soldier’s profile—his hooked nose and the pattern of the snake upon his cheek. Arruns was wearing a Roman soldier’s helmet and breast plate. There was fresh blood on his tunic and hands. Semni was beyond caring how many other killings her husband had needed to perform to secure the vessel.

He jumped out, guiding the craft’s nose until it nudged against the bank. She crawled from her hiding place.

One by one, Arruns lifted the boys and women into the boat. Then he scooped some mud from the riverbank and smeared it across his face, covering the tattoo. He pushed off, wading in the shallows and nimbly jumping into the boat. Semni clung to the side of the prow as the craft rocked with his weight.

The trader watched them boarding, glancing around at the ridge above, and up and down stream.