The Scourge of God

She spied the Roman to one side of their cluster of tents, brushing a gray mare. He seemed handsome enough, curious, and, she hoped, necessarily innocent of female motive. She walked by his field of vision while staring straight ahead and for a moment feared he might ignore her, so intent he seemed on combing his damned horse. She’d have to try again when returning from the river! But, no, suddenly he straightened abruptly and just as he did so she deliberately stumbled and caught the jar as it toppled from her head. “Oh!”

“Let me help you!” he called in Latin.

“It’s nothing,” she replied in the same tongue, trying to feign surprise. “I didn’t see you standing there.” She clutched the clay jar to her breasts like a lover.

He walked over. “I thought you might be Roman from your look and manner.”

He seemed almost too kind, not yet hardened by life’s cruelties, and for a moment she doubted her plan. She needed someone strong. But at least he would take pity!

“I saw you serving at the banquet,” he went on. “What’s your name?”

“Ilana.”

“That’s pretty. I am Jonas Alabanda, of Constantinople.

Where are you from?”

She cast her eyes down, purposely demure. “Axiopolis, near the Black Sea. The city the Greeks called Heracleia.”

“I’ve heard of it. You were captured?”

“Edeco conquered it.”

“Edeco! He’s the one we rode here with from Constantinople.”

“The warrior Skilla caught me and brought me here on his horse.”

“I know Skilla as well!”

“Then we have even more in common than our empire.” She smiled sadly.

He held out his arms. “Here, let me help carry that.”

“It’s woman’s work. Besides, it’s not heavy until full.”

“Then let me escort you to the river.” He grinned. “You look like more enjoyable company than Edeco or Skilla.” This was going better than she’d hoped. They walked together, the quick companionship giving a sheen to the pleasant day, the grass suddenly greener and the sky bluer.

“You’re young to be on such an important mission,” she said. “You must be wise beyond your years.”

“I merely speak Hunnish and enjoy letters. I hope to write a history.”

“You must come from a good family.” She hoped he was rich enough to buy her.

“We’ve had some misfortune. I’m hoping this journey turns it around.”

That was disappointing. They reached the grassy riverbank, the Tisza lolling lazily, dried mud showing how much it had fallen since spring. She stooped to dip water, making her movements deliberately slow. “The journey has let us meet each other, at least,” she said.

“What house do you belong to here?”

“Suecca, wife of Edeco.”

He watched her stand and balance. “I will ask him about you, I think.”

Her heart soared. “If you could ransom me, I would serve the embassy on your way home,” she said, her words coming more quickly than she’d planned. “I can cook, and sew. . . .” She saw the amused concern on his face and stopped. “I just mean I wouldn’t be any trouble.” The jar balanced on her head, she carefully began walking back, knowing that Suecca would miss her soon and probably be suspicious of why she’d uncharacteristically fetched the water. “I could tell you much about the Huns, and I have relatives in Constantinople who could contribute . . .”

She was desperate to bind him to her side. Yet even as she babbled, pathetically promising everything she could think of-how she hated to be a supplicant, and helpless!-there was a sudden rattle of hooves and a Hun pony burst between them, butting Jonas aside and spilling some of the water.

“Woman! What are you doing with the Romans!” It was Skilla, astride his horse Drilca.

“I am only fetching water-”

Jonas grabbed the rein. “It was I who talked to her.” Skilla pointed with his whip. “Let go of my horse. This woman is my uncle’s slave, taken in battle. She has no business talking to any free man without permission, and certainly not to you. If she doesn’t know that, then Suecca will make it clear!”

“You’ll not punish a Roman for talking to a Roman.” There was low warning in Jonas’s voice, and Ilana realized there was some history between these two. She was both thrilled and apprehensive. How could she use it? How could she be so calculating?