punishment. She took that, and the feel of the child
shifting inside her, as signs that she was forgiven, that she and Annachie were
meant to be together.
* * * * *
Sara slept most of the next day in Annachie’s arms, and he
was more than content to simply hold her. When she grew restless with bad
dreams, he smoothed her hair and kissed her temple. She seemed to hear him, for
she would quiet then and relax against him.
Every time he thought back to the events of the last few
days, he shuddered. He had come so close to losing her that even now, it made
him weak to think about it. The sooner they could get away from this barbaric
land, the better he would like it.
He awakened Sara when Micah brought them more food that
evening. For a moment, she seemed confused and frightened again, but when he
tightened his arms around her, she looked up at him and smiled.
Micah’s clothes were so wet, they clung to his skin. “There
is a terrible storm raging outside,” Micah said. “I do not think it will blow
through until late tomorrow night. If so, I will come for you then.”
Annachie nodded. “Whatever you think best. Does it seem that
the winter storms have begun early this year?”
“Perhaps,” Micah replied. “I have seen many boats in Ostia
tied down for the season.”
Sara turned to Annachie. “We should risk it. We have to get
away from here as soon as we can.”
“No,” he replied. “I will not expose you to danger needlessly.
And I will not have you giving birth on a ship somewhere on a stormy winter
sea.”
“But Annachie, women do it all the time. I would not be the first—”
“No. If we have to, we will stay with Micah’s family until
the babe is born, then leave in the spring.”
After Micah left, Sara said to Annachie, “You still do not
want to go home.”
He gave a short laugh. “How did you know?”
“Because I know you. You once told me you did not try to
escape because you believed you were a disgrace to you people.”
“Hmph, I am. Captured in battle, made a slave, forced to
fight for my life for the sport of others. What is that if not disgrace?”
“I heard talk about you in Rome.” When he raised his eyebrow
in question, she continued, “I know that you only killed those who would be unlikely
to recover from their wounds. That you defied the sponsors of the games, even
the emperor. You are the best fighter the Empire has ever seen. Surely that is
an honor.”
“Is it?”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have survived when
many men would have given up or rebelled and been killed.”
“Better a live coward than a dead hero.”
She raised her hand and caressed his cheek. “Is that really
how you see yourself? You told me you are the eldest son. What father would not
welcome such a man back to his home?”
Annachie covered her hand with his own, then turned his face
into her palm and kissed it. “Thank you for those words, my little love. We
shall see, won’t we?” He was not ready to tell her the other reasons he could
not go back to his family and tribe. He knew he would have to, sooner probably
rather than later, but for now, he would keep his shame to himself.
Thankfully, Sara did not press him. She brought his face
down to hers and kissed him deeply. “Oh, Annachie, I love you so.”
“Mmmm, if you keep kissing me that way, I will not be able
to control myself.”
“Then don’t,” she replied. She nuzzled his neck and slipped
her hands up under the sleeves of his tunic.
It felt too good. “Stop, Sara.”
She pulled back and looked up at him. Annachie’s heart lurched
at her hurt expression. “Why? You-you do not want me?”
“Of course I want you. I want you more than my next breath.
But it is too soon after your ordeal and I do not want to hurt you or the
baby.”
“You will not hurt us.” She leaned forward again and kissed
the deep indentation above his collarbone.
Annachie shuddered. “No, nighean .” He took her by the
arms and
shifting inside her, as signs that she was forgiven, that she and Annachie were
meant to be together.
* * * * *
Sara slept most of the next day in Annachie’s arms, and he
was more than content to simply hold her. When she grew restless with bad
dreams, he smoothed her hair and kissed her temple. She seemed to hear him, for
she would quiet then and relax against him.
Every time he thought back to the events of the last few
days, he shuddered. He had come so close to losing her that even now, it made
him weak to think about it. The sooner they could get away from this barbaric
land, the better he would like it.
He awakened Sara when Micah brought them more food that
evening. For a moment, she seemed confused and frightened again, but when he
tightened his arms around her, she looked up at him and smiled.
Micah’s clothes were so wet, they clung to his skin. “There
is a terrible storm raging outside,” Micah said. “I do not think it will blow
through until late tomorrow night. If so, I will come for you then.”
Annachie nodded. “Whatever you think best. Does it seem that
the winter storms have begun early this year?”
“Perhaps,” Micah replied. “I have seen many boats in Ostia
tied down for the season.”
Sara turned to Annachie. “We should risk it. We have to get
away from here as soon as we can.”
“No,” he replied. “I will not expose you to danger needlessly.
And I will not have you giving birth on a ship somewhere on a stormy winter
sea.”
“But Annachie, women do it all the time. I would not be the first—”
“No. If we have to, we will stay with Micah’s family until
the babe is born, then leave in the spring.”
After Micah left, Sara said to Annachie, “You still do not
want to go home.”
He gave a short laugh. “How did you know?”
“Because I know you. You once told me you did not try to
escape because you believed you were a disgrace to you people.”
“Hmph, I am. Captured in battle, made a slave, forced to
fight for my life for the sport of others. What is that if not disgrace?”
“I heard talk about you in Rome.” When he raised his eyebrow
in question, she continued, “I know that you only killed those who would be unlikely
to recover from their wounds. That you defied the sponsors of the games, even
the emperor. You are the best fighter the Empire has ever seen. Surely that is
an honor.”
“Is it?”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have survived when
many men would have given up or rebelled and been killed.”
“Better a live coward than a dead hero.”
She raised her hand and caressed his cheek. “Is that really
how you see yourself? You told me you are the eldest son. What father would not
welcome such a man back to his home?”
Annachie covered her hand with his own, then turned his face
into her palm and kissed it. “Thank you for those words, my little love. We
shall see, won’t we?” He was not ready to tell her the other reasons he could
not go back to his family and tribe. He knew he would have to, sooner probably
rather than later, but for now, he would keep his shame to himself.
Thankfully, Sara did not press him. She brought his face
down to hers and kissed him deeply. “Oh, Annachie, I love you so.”
“Mmmm, if you keep kissing me that way, I will not be able
to control myself.”
“Then don’t,” she replied. She nuzzled his neck and slipped
her hands up under the sleeves of his tunic.
It felt too good. “Stop, Sara.”
She pulled back and looked up at him. Annachie’s heart lurched
at her hurt expression. “Why? You-you do not want me?”
“Of course I want you. I want you more than my next breath.
But it is too soon after your ordeal and I do not want to hurt you or the
baby.”
“You will not hurt us.” She leaned forward again and kissed
the deep indentation above his collarbone.
Annachie shuddered. “No, nighean .” He took her by the
arms and
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