It's a Love Thing (53 page)

“
Ilias, you love this land
more than the life within your chest. We can fight each
other
or
we can
fight together against the Saxons. Their army crossed the Danube by
the Iron Gates and is marching here as we speak. There are more
than our armies combined, but together we might have a
chance.”

I can tell my men are as shocked as I
am by the offer. They are loud and ready to lynch Traianus. The
uproar is too much—I need to think quickly and react even quicker.
Walking around the table, I come face to face with my father's
killer. He's shorter than me, but he doesn’t budge one bit, looking
me straight in the eyes, shoulders pulled back.

It's quiet again when I say, “And why
would I believe you? How do I know it’s not a trap? You're a master
at such games, are you not?”

“
My daughter left in your
custody; is that reason enough?”

“
You forget her life is
already in my hands. Offer more than that.”

“
I can't offer you Dacian
autonomy, if this is what you wish for.”

“
Then so be it.” My stomach
knots painfully at my own words, knowing I’ve just signed the death
of all my men. I can fight the Roman army, but not them
and
the Saxons. I can ask
for assistance from the Carpi and Costaboci, the free Dacian tribes
on the other side of the Carpathians, but it would take a while
until they can reach us. And it might be too late.

Our conversation is over and Traianus
knows it. He takes his helmet and runs two fingers on its edge.
I’ll wager it’s made of Dacian gold.

He starts saying something, but I cut
him short, “Safe return is granted.”

Two of my people flank Traianus,
escorting him out of my tent. I want him out so I can sit—my knees
buckle under the enormity of the burden on my shoulders.

Before he leaves, he turns one more
time and says, “My next plan is to conquer Carpi and Costaboci,
expand the Roman Empire further North-East into Sarmatia. I give
you my word I shan't attack them if you choose to aid me. If not, I
shall see you at dusk.”

I crash in my chair, troubled by his
last words. Cursed be Traianus and his people! Curse him and his
thirst for blood and power! I knew of his plans to expand further
into Parthia and Mesopotamia, but not to enslave the last Dacian
tribes. Their fate lies in my hands. Theirs and my army's. People
who left their families behind to fight for a cause, the Dacian
cause, and believe in me to free them. People I took an oath with
to destroy the Romans.

And yet here I am contemplating
allying myself with my enemy.

*****

I call for my men to share
the news about Traianus’ visit and the offer he’s made me. They
come, clad in their armor, ready for the fight. They are all quiet
and somber. My friends, my
brothers
. All look alike, their
Dacian origins incontestable: tall and broad shouldered. Shades of
blond, long hair, and beards they rarely cut. The sun’s touch in
every line of their young faces and eyes the color of the August
sky. Scars—some old, some new—testifying of their bravery and
loyalty.

They are the closest to a family I’ve
ever had and my heart swells with pride and affection: for Galtys,
the youngest, for his fearless and heated temper. For Ursus, for
his quiet, mellow nature until his enemy stands before him, and his
ability to fight barehanded—no shield had ever stayed in his way.
For Vipero, the fastest of all soldiers amidst any army. He’s the
first of us to settle down, and the first soon-to-be father. For
Zyraxes who charms every skirt. His dexterity extends beyond the
battlefield, excellent at fixing injuries, but hearts—not so much.
For Bastisza, for his loyalty and honesty. For protecting me and
showing me the path when I was nothing but a lost sheep.

Their reaction to my news is exactly
what I expect—nothing more, nothing less.

“
That woman, cursed be the
day she were born!” Ursus spits.

“
It's not her fault,” I
say, trying to keep the focus on the problem at hand, not bring
Nerva into it.

“
Even the gods know it but
you are too blind too see it,” Galtys replies before Ursus has a
chance.

“
We can fight the Romans
and the Saxons, you know we can.” Vipero's fist slams into the
table.

I sigh, “It’s a sure death for all of
us.”

“
I rather die fighting than
allying myself with the Romans.” As young as he is, Galtys holds
nothing back.

“
Don't tell me you’re
considering that snake's offer?” Zyraxes' eyes drill through
me.

“
You can’t go back on your
word, Ilias, you can’t. You already broke one promise. If you break
another one, people lose faith in you. Think it through before you
make another mistake.”

I’m so close to Vipero, our noses
nearly touch. “Don’t you think I know that? But what would you have
me do: fight the Romans or protect our brothers? I’m sworn to fight
our enemies, whoever they are, and right now the Romans aren’t our
enemies. We can regroup and attack them another time. Dacia is
invaded by merciless people. They are worse than the
Romans.”

Ursus pushes Vipero away, a
vein pulses in his temple. He makes a large circle with his right
arm, “Everyone here has risked his life for you. For you and this
land. Ten long years—the blood we shed and ordeals we endured—in
exchange for this
one
moment and you want to take it from us?”

“
Not take it away. Just
delay it, and we shall have our revenge. I swear to
you!”

My friends exchange glances. They
don’t need to voice what they think for I know it. One of them will
soon speak for the group. I feel as I’m on the edge of a ravine, my
heart heavy. Whatever I decide I either lose my friends or lose all
my people.

I turn my back to them, my palms
resting against the fine wood of the table. We all carved it.
Bastisza didn’t allow us to speak before we finished it; we had to
communicate without words. A few lashes later, we learned the hard
way.

I close my eyes for a moment and take
a deep breath, the memory of us working on the wood still so alive,
so dear to my heart. When I open my eyes, I see Nerva behind the
curtain leaning against the tent’s pole. She’s pale and dressed in
Dacian clothing. The red embroidery on her white shirt matches the
red of her lips and for a moment I yearn to kiss her one more time.
But I’ve already said goodbye to her. She shall return to her
father.

Something inside me stirs and I know
I’ve reached a decision. I turn to face my friends, calmer than
I’ve ever felt.

“
Whatever your resolve, I
shall respect it. Keeping our brothers safe is my responsibility,
whatever the ransom.”

“
Is this your last word?”
Vipero says.

“
It is.”

“
Then so be it. Farewell,
my friend.”

One by one my friends salute me and
leave.

Except for Bastisza.

“
I’m proud of you,” he
says, crushing my shoulder under his bear paw.

I’m worn out by the encounter, but I
can’t rest. There is still a lot to do before sunset. I exit the
tent to a sea of tents and soldiers. My soldiers. I hear the clunk
of armor, the hammering of hot iron, the horses’ snicker. I smell
hay and men, supper and human scum. It’s humid and hot, another
long and cloudless day. The horizon is blackened by the minute. At
first it’s a fine line. Then, as the sun goes higher and higher the
line becomes thicker and thicker. Soon the earth will
tremor—they’ll be here by the morrow.

“
I shall address the army.
Get them ready.”

*****

A fine breeze starts, giving men and
horse a welcome rest from heat. The sun sets behind us, a red disk
of fire. The path atop the hill is smooth and open; I can see
Traianus waiting, rubbing his horse’s neck. He’s once again bold,
coming without any guards.

Nerva and I ride side by
side.

We don’t talk. It’s better
this way. I can hide my emotions from everyone else; I won’t be
able to do it in front of her. We’ve only spent a few days
together, but I feel as if we’ve been together since Adam and Eve,
for all eternity. She’s all I’ve ever dreamt a woman,
my
woman, shall be, and
yet there is no future for us.

I wager all my aces in one move,
risking much more than only losing Nerva. As Traianus said, she
should remain under my wing until the battle is over. But in case
my army is defeated she’ll be safe with the Romans. With my men,
she’ll be killed.

“
You kept your word,”
Traianus says when Nerva descends. She runs to him and throws
herself in his wide-open arms. He smiles at her and kisses her
forehead, then touches the tip of her nose. “Mia filia.”

I give father and daughter time to
talk, and dismount further away. Nerva speaks fast, bits of words
spoken louder than others. She remains with the horses while
Traianus joins me. I stand side by side with my worst enemy,
watching the Saxons invade my Dacia.

“
Bringing Nerva . . . does
it mean you’ll fight me?”

“
No. I’ll fight them,” I
motion at the black shadow taking over the horizon.

“
You’re young and yet you
prove to be a wise leader.”

“
It doesn’t mean I won’t
fight you. I will one day.”

“
I have no doubt.” Traianus
bows his head. He lifts his right arm toward me.
“Truce?”

My fingers wrap around his elbow.
“Truce.”

Traianus looks relieved. He places a
hand on my shoulder and turns me toward the horses. “Nerva tells me
. . . she wants to stay with you.”

“
She’s safer
here.”

“
I didn’t mean it that
way.” Traianus measures me and I cock an eyebrow. “She tells me she
wants to remain with you. As your wife. She loves you,
Ilias.”

My heart feels ready to
explode. My mother used to tell me she loved me. Meda, my sister
used to do the same. Before he died, my father told me he loved me.
But I’ve never had a woman tell me. Not a princess, and certainly
not a
Roman
. Is it
possible?

“
It’s not what you wanted
for your daughter, is it?”

Traianus lifts his chin slightly,
looking straight ahead. For his age he stands mighty proudly, like
a thoroughbred leader.

“
If foreseen, this union
could’ve been publicly blessed and your father’s death
avoided.”

“
He would’ve still fought
you to keep Dacia’s autonomy.”

“
We’ll never
know.”

We reach Nerva. She bites her lips,
darting glances between her father and I. He takes her hand and
kisses it, smiling at her with his whole being. Then he takes my
hand and places Nerva’s in mine, keeping his atop ours.

“
Forget the past, forgive
the faults and love one another. I might not live to see your
children, but you have my blessing. May the Gods be with
you!”

The sky shatters with light and with
that, my short-lived happiness. Heavy, low clouds roll in,
lightning and thunder crinkles the air.

*****

I’m ready.

It takes us the whole night to march
behind the Saxons. We rest most of the day while Romans collide
with them first, tiring and weakening them as Traianus and I
planned. I’m atop the hills, hidden in the woods with my army,
ready to attack from behind. There is no escape. It’s a sea of
blood before my eyes and I crave to pass those bastards through my
sword. I can almost taste victory.

Soon.

For centuries Dacians have set fire
atop hills. It’s the signal they use to communicate the land is at
war, calling for all men able to carry a sword to fight. It’s the
signal I’m about to give when I see four men charging up the hill
to my left. By their armors, they aren't Romans. I can’t see their
faces yet, but my heart pounds in my chest, hope bursting
within.

“
Need help?” Vipero stops
his horse next to mine, a broad smile on his face. Galtys, Ursus,
and Zyraxes surround me, their horses stomping around mine in a
dance of recognition.

For the first time in days, I laugh.
“My life for it.”

The fire jolts. Smoke raises first,
then tall flames set the sky on fire. Suddenly a small movement at
the base of the hill catches my eyes. It must be Traianus’ man,
coming straight at us. That’s the signal we should attack. I lift
my fist in the air, but a weird feeling settles in my stomach. The
closer the messenger, the stronger the nerves. I shake it away—it
must be the excitement.

“
Nerva? What are you doing
here?” It takes every ounce of control to not drag her off the
horse and flog her right then and there in front of my
army.

Her horse lifts off its front legs,
but she holds onto her ropes, a smile bigger than life on her face.
Beautifully crafted armor covers her body like a second skin, horse
and rider made for each other. She whistles like a man and lifts
her sword in the air. “Protecting the land of our children. Yours
and mine!”