Page 55 of Enslaved
As Diana rode from the villa to the track where her unbelievable adventure had begun, she could tell just where Georgian architect John Wood would build his Royal Crescent and The Circus. Both were extremely Anglo-Saxon versions of the classic Roman style. When she passed the vineyards, the grapes were being harvested. She saw that the vines had all been planted facing south and realized with awe that some of them would still be flourishing in the eighteenth century.
She saw the dust rising up from the track before she saw the chariots. There was no recreational racing today, however. The legionaries were being given a demonstration of how the Celtae used their chariots for warfare. These were small square vehicles with wicker sides, open at both ends for easy access. As Diana watched, the men ran along the chariot poles, stood on the yoke to throw their spears, then got back in and rode off before the legionaries could retaliate.
The bloodcurdling cries of the Britons, combined with the noise of the wheels, were almost enough to inspire terror in the enemy. Diana’s hand flew to her mouth as she saw Marcus, without armor, run along a chariot pole to hurl javelins. If he slipped, he would be trampled beneath the hooves of the thick-set shaggy horses pulling the chariot.
“I can’t watch!” she cried, covering her eyes.
“It’s all right, lady, the general has leaped clear of the chariot,” the stable slave informed her.
She saw that Marcus was addressing the officers. “The Celtae combine the mobility of the cavalry with the power of the infantry. Their charioteers can control their horses at full gallop even on steep inclines. They bring in their men, who engage on foot, and meanwhile they line up their chariots for a quick retreat. Before the day is over, you will learn how to combat them so that they will be no more than an annoyance. Your first target will be the horses that pull the chariots!”
Marcus was aware of Diana’s presence and came to her once he had given the centurions specific tasks. They smiled into each other’s eyes. All seeing them knew they were pledged lovers. He came to her side and rubbed the mare’s nose. One black brow arched like a raven’s wing as he took in her attire. “You look nice and warm.”
She bent down from her saddle and whispered in his ear, “My legs are warm, but my bum is freezing!”
His black eyes glittered. “If we were more private, I would take you into my lap and warm you,” he murmured.
“If we were more private, you would rub me until I was hot.”
“You are a wicked lady,” he accused. He took the mare’s reins and led her a few paces away from her escort so he could speak privately. “We have a guest for dinner tonight. A message arrived from the procurator that he will be in Aquae Sulis today.”
“The procurator is an important official of some kind?”
Marcus nodded. “He holds the highest office in Britannia. He is the administrator in charge of finances and all else. I don’t want him to know you are a slave. I’ll make up a plausible tale.”
“It won’t be a tale; I’m not your slave,” she teased.
His powerful hand came down possessively on her thigh. He turned hard as marble the moment he touched her.
She stopped teasing. “Would you like me to stay in my chamber, Marcus?”
“No. I want you beside me. If we have confidential business to discuss, you can withdraw. I’ve already sent a message to Kell. He will see to everything.”
When Diana arrived back at the villa, Kell had assembled all the household slaves and drilled them on everything from their dress to their specific duties. Nola was giving instructions to a group of female slaves. When the slaves went off to perform their assigned tasks, Diana said to Kell, “Marcus wants me to dine with him when he entertains the procurator, but he doesn’t want him to know that I’m a slave.”
“I see,” Kell replied.
Nola explained to Diana, “The procurator, Julius Classicianus, is like the emperor here. He is all-powerful. If he knew you were a slave, he could ask for you for a night, or permanently, and Marcus would have to oblige him.”
Kell said, “The procurator is no voluptuary. He has never used one of our slaves.”
Nola said dryly, “Nevertheless he is a man. Marcus realizes Diana’s temptation if you do not, Briton.”
Kell ignored her and addressed Diana. “Dinner will be served later than usual because they will enjoy the ritual of the bath first. I will come for you when it is time to come down.”
“What do I do?” Diana asked helplessly.
“You will simply grace the triclinium,” Kell said, far too busy to explain further.
Nola said, “Come upstairs, I will answer all your questions.”
“You have more gall than grace,” Kell accused.
“And you have more arrogance than a Roman!” Nola replied.
“I am a Briton. I have more to be arrogant about.”
Diana laughed outright. “Kell won that round.”
