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“No not ill, just-” The words ended abruptly, when she fell forward, dropping the cloaks and some utensils she had been carrying, before everything went blank.
With lightning reflexes Metellus lunged forward, reaching for Livia just in time, so she fell into his arms and not onto the hot sand. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt so slight, so fragile, her bones as delicate as a bird he’d once held in the palm of his hand. Her arms flopped down by the side of her body, and Metellus lifted her higher so he now held her against the hard wall of his chest.
With an unconscious movement he dropped his chin until it rested on the top of her head, the gesture one of protection as he tried to ignore the press of breasts against the hardness of his muscles. But their fullness tempted him, so soft, like a plump cushion that he wanted to lay his head on and savour the sweetness of them with his mouth and tongue-
“Hades!” He cursed, annoyed with himself for once again falling under the spell of attraction he felt for this woman.
He lowered her to the ground, his movements gentle, and once he was certain she was a comfortable as possible he looked up at the sky. The sun was at its zenith, and they had been walking during the hottest part of day. What had possessed him to allow her to walk for so long in the heat? It was obvious she wasn’t strong enough to cope with the gruelling pace he had set since early that morning.
He had to get her out of the sun; so once again he lifted her into his arms, and walked back up the shoreline so she could at least benefit from the shade of the trees. Once he had lowered her onto the sparse grass which grew there, he ran back down to where he had left their supplies.
He untied the barrel of water from the makeshift sleigh of branches he’d made, his fingers fumbling with the leather strips which had been used to secure it; strips he’d taken from the sandals of the dead soldiers he’d had to bury. As he worked at the knots he cursed himself once more. He had been so preoccupied with trying to find out whether or not there was any life on the island, he had dismissed Livia out of hand.
And if he was honest with himself, he had deliberately blocked her out of his subconscious, trying to forget how good she had felt in his arms last night when he had kissed her. It was a kiss he had wanted to forget, and he had to some extent, but it had been at her expense!
Once he had the barrel upright, he opened the lid and reached for the small wooden bowl floating inside. Scooping out some of the precious water, ignoring the fact they had so little left, he walked back up to where Livia lay. She was still unconscious, her breathing rapid and shallow and he dropped to his knees. With shaking hands, he once again trickled water into her mouth, like he had done on the five days previous when she had lain unconscious.
The coolness of the water trickling down her throat was like ambrosia from the Gods and Livia flicked out her tongue, tasting the sweetness of it, desperate for more.
“Not too much, or you will make yourself ill.”
At Metellus’s whispered words, Livia opened her eyes and saw him kneeling over her. Concern was etched on his face, reflected in the darkened grey of his eyes.
“What…what happened?” She asked, aware of the huskiness of her voice as it rasped past her dry throat.
“You fainted.”
“Oh.”
“It was my fault. I should have realised you were still too weak to walk so far.”
“Oh.”
Metellus lips quirked, “Is that all you can say?”
Livia watched in fascination as a small dimple appeared on the right hand side of his face, and she was aware her mouth had opened in shock. Had he really just smiled down at her? She must indeed be ill! But before she could say anything to his last question, Metellus stood up and went over to where a small sapling grew. She watched as he stripped off several long branches, aware of his muscles rippling and bunching with the effort it took, until he came back to her, holding the branches up above his head like a slave carrying an ostrich feather parasol.
She realised what he was intending, and a warm glow flowed through her. His kindness was rather surprising, considering all that had happened between them so far.
“Thank you. The shade will help. You are most kind.”
Her words were met with a bark of harsh laughter and she saw his face close. Once again she’d managed to say the wrong thing.
“’Kind’ is not a word often used when describing me, Livia Drusus. You had best remember that.”
Livia stiffened at the sarcastic tone, and turned away from him. There was no reasoning with the man, “Yes. How stupid of me to forget,” she snapped, and made to stand up, not wanting to give him any excuse for her delaying them.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, “We will stay here for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, when you are rested, we will set off and try to make a full day of it.” Then he turned, and walked back down to where he had left their supplies.
Livia leaned back down on the grass and closed her eyes, willing the gods to send a ship to rescue her. Now!
Once again, Livia woke up early, and this time, before Metellus could ask whether she was awake or not, she got up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Metellus was still asleep. She saw with a start, that the woollen cloak he was using as a blanket had slipped down to his waist, revealing the broadness of his naked chest, and his naked body.
Totally naked body she realised, her eyes widening, when she spotted his thin woollen tunic lying next to him. Her mouth went dry at the sheer beauty of his body as her eyes tracked the vast expanse of his chest, the hard muscles bronzed to a dark golden brown; muscles so well delineated, Livia had the urge to run her hands over them to see if they were as warm, and as hard to the touch as they appeared.
Once again she couldn’t help but acknowledge how handsome he was. It was a shame his tongue wasn’t as pleasing as his body. And as she thought of his tongue, and remembered the kiss they had shared, her eyes lifted to his face…and met his inscrutable gaze once more.
Hades he was awake! Awake and watching her, his face expressionless, closed. Livia’s stomach dropped as if someone had just punched her – hard – and she pulled in her lower lip in consternation, annoyed with herself for having been caught staring at him again. She looked away and walked over to where the water barrel stood. Taking a small cup of water she sipped from it slowly, ignoring the trembling of her hands.
As she drank the water, taking an inordinate amount of time in doing so, she heard him get up, and the slight sounds of fabric rustling as he put on his tunic caused her to shiver in longing. Breathing in deep, she tried to shake away the mental image she had at the thought of the fabric of his tunic sliding over his naked body. She had just about managed to do so when she felt his presence behind her. She stiffened, battling the urge to turn to face him, to bury her head in the strength of his chest. He was so close, tension radiated between them as she felt the warmth of his breath on the exposed part of her neck.
“Could you pour me some as well?”
“Yes.” Her voice, she noticed sourly, sounded like a squeaking mouse, and she felt heat crawl up her body. Why did this man make her feel so self-conscious? She was a woman of Rome, a widow even, not some simpering girl in the first flush of youth! With shaking fingers she poured out some water before thrusting out her hand, waiting for him to take the wooden cup. She quivered when his fingers touched hers, and she pulled away, her movements abrupt before she stepped away from him, breaking the tension which seemed to be there every time he came within touching distance. She walked back to where she had slept, picked up her red cloak and folded it with jerky movements before doing the same with Metellus’s.
She really had to control her emotions more when she was around him. She was fast becoming a liability to herself. Hadn’t Metellus made his feelings plain enough yesterday? She would do well to heed his warning…
Thankfully, the rest of the day passed without mishap. She was able to keep pace with Metellus this time, partly due to the shade provided by the branches of the tree he’d cut down for her, and which he’d tied to the makeshift sleigh so it draped over her as she walked; and partly due to the fact he’d slowed the pace down considerably.
Livia didn’t know how much ground they covered that day, but it must have been many miles. She noticed that the terrain up ahead had changed, the sandy beach coming to an end in about another half a mile or so to be replaced by a rocky coast line.
“Does the change in terrain mean anything?” She asked, when they had stopped for the day, and made camp.
Metellus frowned, staring at the rocky outcrop ahead of them. “I don’t know. But I pray to the gods it will mean we can soon find some food and water.”
“Do you know where we are? The island, I mean…”
Metellus shook his head. “Not really. The storm was so fierce, the ship could have been blown anywhere. But, if I were to hazard a guess, I think we may be on one of the Greek islands. But like I said, I’m not sure.”
“Have you been to any of the Greek islands before?”
Metellus grunted, and shook his head, “No. I’m just a humble merchant that’s all. This would have been my first trip. I recently took over the family business from my uncle. We sell wine to Africa and then import papyrus paper back to Rome. This was my inaugural voyage. Not a good start was it?”
Livia lifted her eyebrows in surprise. She hadn’t thought him to be a merchant. Rather, when she had seen him on the deck that first time, she had convinced herself he was just one of the sailors.
“Looks can be deceiving, Livia.”
She blushed, when she realised he had read her thoughts – again. She shrugged, a small smile playing on her mouth. “Yes, I realise that. But like you say, looks can be deceiving.”
That evening a companionable silence fell between them, as they ate their small ration of dried beef. As Livia chewed on a small piece of meat, she couldn’t help but remember the food back home at her father’s villa, and for the first time in days she felt real hunger, and her stomach growled out in protest. Loudly.
So loudly, that Metellus looked across from her and smiled, “Me too. I’m so hungry I could eat anything.”
Livia laughed and smiled across at him. “I must remember to recommend this to my father’s cook when I get back home,” she said, lifting up the piece of dried meat.
Her words had the effect of a splash of cold water, when she saw the smile leave Metellus’s face.
“Ah, yes. Your father. The great Senator Drusus. How could I forget?”
Livia’s face drained of all colour at the harshness of his words, and she watched him get up and walk away from her, breaking the easy companionship which had been there moments ago.
What on earth had her father done to cause his displeasure? It was obvious there was bad feeling between the two of them, but for the life of her she couldn’t think what. She was desperate to find out, but she knew with a certainty Metellus wouldn’t tell her what it was. It was best to keep her thoughts to herself. For a while at least. Now was not the time to challenge him about the past. She was wise enough to know that.
CHAPTER 6
“What is it? A fort?”
Metellus didn’t look away from the awesome sight before them, but shook his head at Livia’s questions. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly, “If it is a fort, it’s one I’ve never seen the likes of before. For a start it’s only got one wall,” he said nodding to the wooden structure – complete with parapet walls and a watchtower - which acted as some sort of barrier. It was about ten feet high and had a massive door in it. But as a defence it was worthless, because it was only one sided. The rest of the settlement was open, and he could see a myriad of huts and buildings behind it. He also saw people rushing about, shouting at each other. And if he was correct, they were shouting about them!
He knew they had been seen, as heads had popped up on the parapet wall with regular frequency only to disappear back down quickly. He could hear them shouting in Greek, which made his earlier comment about them being on one of the many small Greek islands probably correct.
Although his stomach had clenched when he had first seen the fort, he had also been relieved. Relieved, that at last there was the firm possibility of their survival now. A fort, or whatever it was, must have food and water. All he needed to do was convince whoever lived in there that they posed no danger to them, and the only way to do that was to go and speak with them.
Turning to Livia, he said, “I want you to stay here. Don’t leave this spot until I come back.” Then he took off the red cloak and handed it to Livia before unstrapping the sword and passing it over to her.
“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t you take the sword?” she whispered, “For protection…they might be hostile.”
Metellus shook his head. “I don’t want to inflame their anger by turning up dressed like a Roman soldier. It might send out the wrong message.”
Seeing her mouth open, in what he knew was going to be a protest, he lifted a finger and placed it on her lips, his eyes pleading, “No arguing, Livia. Please.”
Livia’s mouth snapped shut, and he saw the flare of surprise widen her expressive eyes. She said nothing as she stared up at him, and he nodded his head before turning away from her and walking towards the fort.
“Metellus!”
He turned his head to look back at her, his eyes questioning, as he watched in surprised fascination, colour stain her cheeks as if she had somehow regretted shouting after him. Then, before he could ask her what was wrong, she whispered, “Be careful.”
Livia felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment, as Metellus stared at her from unblinking eyes. In an instant she regretted her words, and she stiffened expecting him to say something derogatory.
Instead he said nothing, but he did give a slight nod before he turned and carried on walking towards the fort. Livia dragged in a ragged breath, her stomach quivering as her gaze fixed on the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Hades, the man made her say, and do things, she never thought capable of.
And all because he had kissed her. Her life in Rome had been so ordered. So boring. She had kept a tight rein on her emotions for years, and did so because it acted as a shield against the struggle of her life. A life dictated by the orders and whims of her father, and her brother, ever since she had been born.
And now? Now it seemed different, as if her struggle for survival, and the feelings she had for Metellus were compelling her to fight for what she wanted. Freedom. Freedom to be the person she really was. And being shipwrecked on this island had finally given her what she had wanted. Here, she was her own person. Able to think, and do, what she pleased, as if she were a bird that had been released from its gilded cage.
But could one kiss really mean anything? It had for her, of that there was no doubt. But as for Metellus, she knew he’d regretted it – it was why he’d kept his distance ever since.
Sighing, she shook her fanciful musings away and concentrated on the present.
As she watched Metellus approach the door to the fort, she couldn’t help but wonder who would choose to live on such an island and why. The three days they’d spent travelling had revealed nothing spectacular about the island at all. Just endless sand, trees, and now rocks.
Her thoughts were cut short when she saw Metellus stop abruptly as he approached the gate. It was obvious he had been ordered to stop by whoever had spoken out of the small spy-hole which had been opened in the wooden door. She tilted her head, trying to make out the words being exchanged between Metellus, and the unseen person behind the door.
She realised she was too far away to hear anything, but then she saw Metellus nod, before he turned his head and looked towards some hills located to the rear of the fort. Livia looked over to the hills as well, squinting against the bright sunlight reflecting off the rocks, trying to make out what he was looking at. But she couldn’t see anything, only the vast expanse of barren rock.
For several more minutes she watched as Metellus communicated with the unseen person, nodding every now and again, until he eventually turned and walked back towards her, his face grim. Livia’s stomach dropped when she saw the dark expression on his face. It didn’t bode well for them, if the look on his face was anything to go by, and she had to quell the anxiety which assailed her when he approached her once more. “Will they give us shelter in the fort?”
“No-”
“But why?” She exclaimed interrupting him, her voice rising with hysteria, unable to grasp the fact they might die here, right in front of them. She felt tears well up in her eyes at the injustice of it all, “We are no threat to them.”
Metellus sighed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, the deep lines of fatigue etched on his face making him appear older. “Aye, you are right. We are not a threat. But they are.”
Livia frowned in confusion, but before she could ask what he meant, Metellus continued, his voice calm, collected, “It is a leper colony, Livia. They have set up the colony as a way of trying to live a normal life amongst themselves, and away from a society which shuns them as unclean. One of the lepers is the son of a rich Greek merchant, and he has paid for this colony to be built.”
Livia gasped, her eyes snapping back to the fort, as a feeling of compassion came over her. “There are many inside?” She whispered, after a long silence had fallen between them.
Metellus nodded. “Yes, a virtual community. All ages apparently.” Like hers, his voice was soft, as he answered her question, as if he too, couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.
“Oh those poor people – to be trapped here for all eternity.”
After a few moments of silence she once again turned back to face Metellus. He was staring down at her with a brooding expression in his eyes, and she froze, unable to look away. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his head lower towards her and her belly clenched with a sudden longing. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to feel the coolness of his lips against hers once more. And, as if he could read her mind, she saw his grey eyes blaze into life like molten metal as they burned into hers. The air around them felt charged, like it did before a lightning storm and Livia knew he wanted her. Desired her as much as she desired him.
But he also hated her, she knew that the instant he stopped moving closer to her, a hairsbreadth from touching her lips. She watched as he fought the internal battle he waged with himself, and she had to fight the urge to lift her hand and pull him closer so he had no choice but to kiss her.
But she didn’t. Because she knew that she, and her family were his enemy, and that was enough to stop him in his tracts. And when she saw the blaze of desire leave his eyes she knew she had lost him. His head jerked back as if she’d slapped him, before he broke eye contact with her and bent down and retrieve one of the sacks holding their supplies.
“They have been kind to us, though,” he said, his voice firm, in control once more as he looked back to the leper colony avoiding eye contact with her. “We are promised shelter, food and water. There is a cave in the hills behind the fort. It is for the crew of the ship that comes with their supplies. It is kept well stocked in case the ship cannot set sail for some reason. There is a well nearby, and the elder of the colony will provide us with some food. We are to come back later this evening for our supplies.”
Livia took in all he was saying, but her brain registered the most important fact, and she asked, her voice full of hope, “A ship? When will it arrive? Will we be able to leave on it?”
“Umm. You are very astute Livia Drusus,” Metellus said, a small smile pulling at his lips. “There will indeed be a ship arriving, in about three weeks’ time, or even earlier by all accounts. All we need to do is tolerate each other until then, and with luck on our side we will be rescued soon. The leader of the colony will speak to the captain when the ship arrives, telling him we are shipwreck survivors. We need to stay away from the colony so the captain will have no cause to refuse us safe passage.”
Three weeks! How on earth was she going to survive being in such close proximity to Metellus for three whole weeks? He, she noticed with a twist of her full mouth, was preparing a fire in a stone fire pit outside the cave entrance without a care in the world, and didn’t seem too bothered by the fact they were going to be in each other’s company for such a long time.
She, on the other hand, was a mass of seething emotions. She couldn’t seem to forget his kiss, the touch of his fingers on her skin, or the way he seemed to look at her as if he could reach inside her very being and touch her innermost emotions. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she didn’t seem to be able to control herself when it came to touching, or wanting him either.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Could she control her desire for him, until the ship arrived? She hoped so, for her own sanity, and she offered a silent prayer to Cupid, the god of desire, that she would be able to. Now was not the time to remember his kisses. She needed to be strong, to focus on their survival, and what the future might bring for her, now she wasn’t going to Alexandria. So with a renewed sense of determination, she turned away from Metellus and entered the small cave, to start unpacking their supplies.
As she entered the cave, she gave a small gasp of relief. Metellus was right. The cave had been furnished with all the basics needed for a short stay. There were several wooden cots for sleeping, complete with straw mattresses. With the cloaks they had used for blankets, Livia was sure the sleeping arrangements would be more than adequate, and a lot better than what they had been putting up with in recent days. There was even a small table and some chairs, as well as several pots for cooking. The well, Livia had noticed earlier, was only a short walk away, and she had to control her eagerness to wash away the accumulated grime of the past seven days.
She looked down at the dirty silk of her tattered gown, and smiled ruefully. Her friend, Portia, would faint at the sight of it she was sure, not to mention the state of her hair and broken nails! Portia had never, as far as Livia knew, ever set foot out of her villa without every curl on her head perfectly coiffured, and every gown clean and wrinkle free. She had often admonished Livia on her carefree attitude to her toilet, but Livia was unconcerned about spending hours getting ready to go to the baths, or the Forum, just so they could impress the men they passed on the way.
But, as she lifted a hand to her scalp, and felt the sand and salt encrusted in her hair, she wondered how Portia would have coped these past days without her much coveted creature comforts. Livia’s smiled deepened, as she conceded to herself, that right now even she would part with her last sesterce to be able to wash her hair!
“Is this all for us?”
“It would appear so. They said they would leave supplies for us – and here they are,” Metellus said, picking up one of the wooden crates which had been stacked some distance away from the gate.
Livia looked up at the wooden barricade, and although she couldn’t see anyone she was sure they were watching them. “Thank you all so much. You are most kind,” she said, shouting up the hillside towards the closed gate. She hoped they could hear her; as she wanted to thank them personally for their kindness.