It was a success; she faltered only for a moment before gaining her footing. He led her to his makeshift perch, where she sat, pulling the carafe near her to uncork it. “This took much guile on my part to sneak away unnoticed,” she teased, taking a sip before handing it to him.
He sat down next to her, putting the opening to his lips. “Was the dinner terrible?” he asked, pleasantly surprised by the robust flavor as its heat descended into his stomach. The slave wine they usually drank was watered down and almost rank, but tonight she managed to procure that which was saved for honored guests.
“Not too terrible,” she replied as she took it back for another swig. “It was the usual exchange of forced pleasantries, boasting of personal successes, lamenting over politics. Eridus invited that terrible Nirus, so he kept my summoning to the table as infrequent as possible.”
Davius shuddered. Nirus was the most nefarious slave owner in Rome, stories of his merciless abuse well-known among its citizens. Since he was a prominent war hero and belonged to one of the wealthiest families in the Empire, his misdeeds frequently went ignored. He was also adored by the slave traders, his constant demand for new bodies keeping their pockets full. “I would have killed him if he touched you,” he muttered.
She smiled. “I know. I feel safe knowing you are here.”
The warmth of the wine and her words flushed his face, and he lay back to return his gaze to the skies.
She followed suit, gasping immediately at the sight of them. “My gods, how beautiful. Do you come up here every night?”
“When sleep escapes me. The skies calm me and remind me of home.”
She frowned. “Do you miss it still?”
He turned towards her, his nose assaulted once more by sweet smelling jasmine. “Sometimes,” he replied honestly. “I love my life here, but I do long for crisp air and majestic trees.”
“I do not remember much from home. My mother told me stories of it though, how the people were one with the forest, not cultivated and detached from it like in Rome.”
“You have never spoken to me about your mother before.” Davius took another large swallow of wine.
“I came here with her and worked by her side for many years,” she explained. “She died one day, mysteriously in the fields. Alone I was prey for ruthless slave traders, but Eridus found me before it was too late. I guess it hurts to speak of her still.” Gaia lifted the carafe to her lips as if to dismiss her words.
“I am sorry,” he offered, sincerely.
“Please do not be. My only regret is that I know nothing of my heritage—our heritage.” A thought occurred to her, causing her to brighten. “You can teach me! Will you tell me of our gods?”
Davius considered her request. Memories tucked away in the corners of his mind began to surface. He thought of the Morrigan and her wicked, triumphant smile as she stood, surrounded by human carrion. Reluctantly, he agreed.
“Wonderful,” she beamed. “I will be the most apt of students.”
Davius couldn’t help but laugh.
“I will,” she protested, batting at him playfully. She took another drink. “It has suddenly occurred to me that I am going to soon be very drunk, and climbing down this rooftop will present quite a challenge.”
Davius grabbed the carafe, taking another generous sip for himself. “Then we shall lay here until morning, and I will climb down the wall with you on my back.”
She laughed. “And what if Eridus finds us?”
“He is already well past the ability to climb a rooftop,” he pointed out.
“Now that is certain,” she agreed as she retrieved the nearly empty bottle, draining the last of it. She handed it back to him, reaching back to unclasp the pins that held her hair, releasing ringlets of reddish gold cascading down her back.
“I could never be a wealthy woman,” she declared. “I could not imagine waking every morning to have slaves push these torturous pins into my head.”
“So, when I become a wealthy artist, and you are my wife, you will never wear your hair in plaits?” Davius teased, before he could stop himself.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “We could never be married,” she sputtered. “I am years older than you and we are both slaves!”
He shook his head. “You are not too old for me, and I will buy our freedom from Eridus.”
“With your paintings on the sides of stones and your carvings in tree trucks? No one would pay a slave for his services, even if you did manage to display your work for the public to see.”
He turned away, wounded by her words.
She immediately softened, placing her hand on his arm. “I am sorry, Davius. I am dizzy with wine—I did not mean what I said. I know you will be a great artist someday. I just...I hate that we are not free. Dreaming of it seems futile, a waste of time.”
Davius turned back to her, their faces inches apart. “But if I do sell my work and can afford our freedom, will you marry me?” he pressed, imploring her eyes with his own.
Gaia sighed, smiling despite herself. “Of course, I would.”
Before she could say anything further, he kissed her, her lips soft against his. He pulled her tightly against him and she momentarily submitted, their bodies melting seamlessly together in embrace. She pulled herself away, alarmed by their passion. “Suddenly, I am very tired,” she managed.
“Sleep then,” he gently suggested. “I can hold you under the stars.”
She acquiesced gratefully, nestling her body next to his. Her curves fit neatly into him as if they were made to, and he gazed at her until she closed her eyes, listening to her breathing steady. Assured she was comfortably asleep, he turned back up his eyes, letting the celestial dance of the heavens carry him away to dreamland.
CHAPTER 2
THE MAN
His breath caught in his throat, panic clenching his lungs with frantic fingers. Darkness surrounded him, save for the creature trudging towards him, its eyes ablaze. Its limbs were gnarled and taloned, charred skeletal bones jutting out of its scaley black skin. He wanted nothing more than to flee, but found he was frozen where he stood. The pressure of heavy liquid was smothering him, choking him with its syrupy aroma. He raised his hands to wipe free his nostrils only to realize he was dripping with rich crimson blood, his mouth assaulted by its smoky metallic taste. Horrified, he looked up to see the being now stood directly before him, its black leathery wings whipping the air around them like an angry tempest. The creature was holding the body of a young woman in its arms, its loathsome dragon-like face twisted up into a grin. He caught its burning eyes with his own before the realization dawned on him.
The creature was him.
