After Rome Read Free

pulled the door open. She thrust her head into the night. It was too dark to see anything. Holding her breath, she listened for the crackling of fire. Was it coming nearer? What should she do?
    She ducked back inside. Looked wildly about the room.
    The smell of smoke was growing stronger.
    When she ran through the open doorway Cadogan lunged forward and caught her. He could feel how thin she was beneath her gown. All angles, with no comfort in her body to offer a man. Strong, though; she fought like one of the savage wildcats from Caledonia. Screeching, squalling, writhing in his grip and trying to scratch his eyes out.
    A plague on the wretched woman! thought Cadogan. He immediately repented, reminding himself that he was a Christian. But even Christ had lost his temper with the money changers.
    By the time Cadogan managed to pinion her wrists they were both panting.
    â€œYou said I could stay, you said I could stay!”
    â€œOnly until my cousin came back for you,” Cadogan replied. He had been told his deep voice was “reassuring,” but his next words were anything but reassuring. “If Dinas hasn’t come for you by now he’s not going to.”
    â€œYou don’t know that!” she shrilled.
    â€œI know him. You’re not the first woman he’s abandoned.”
    â€œHe hasn’t abandoned me, he never would! Dinas adores me. Many men have said they loved me, but none are as passionate as Dinas. He swore he’d throw himself on his sword if he ever lost me!”
    Cadogan began to feel sorry for her. And sorry for himself, for his aching body and leaden weariness. Sorry that his life—which only a month ago had been filled with a hermit’s simple pleasures—was being torn asunder through no fault of his own.
    â€œYou should go inside now,” he said, releasing her wrists.
    â€œBut there’s a fire coming!”
    â€œDon’t worry, you’ll be safe. There’s no real fire, only damp grass smoking.”
    She caught her breath. “Do you mean … did you trick me?”
    â€œI had to make you open the door.”
    She furiously pummeled his chest with her fists. “You’re a terrible man and I hate you! Hate you, hate you, hate you!”
    â€œThat’s too bad.” He captured her wrists again and started to force her into the house. Thought better of it. Pulling her after him, he went around to the back of the building.
    She made no effort to free herself. Instead she kept up a running commentary on his failures as a human being while he stamped on the fire. “You’re worthless compared to your cousin, do you know that? Dinas is a twelve-pronged stag and you’re a pile of goat dung. Goat dung with flies on it!”
    Cadogan noticed that she had begun drawling her vowels. “Dinas is twice the man you are, he has balls like melons and a prick like a stallion. What do you have under your tunic, a dead eel? The first time I saw you I knew you were nothing. If Dinas was here you couldn’t treat me like this, because he would knock your teeth out.”
    â€œDinas likes to fight,” Cadogan said. “I don’t.”
    â€œSo you’re a coward as well.”
    He ignored the insult and continued extinguishing the fire. It took a while to hunt down and crush the last tiny spark. When he was satisfied there no danger of the blaze flaring up again, he took her back inside. Still yammering at him. Her voice was seriously beginning to grate on his nerves.
    A bronze oil lamp on a three-legged table supplied the only light. The draft from the closing door caused the flame to gutter, flickering as if it might go out. Cadogan released the woman so he could slide the heavy bolt across the door, then he took a large tin ewer from beneath the table. When he lifted it his heart sank. He thumbed back the lid and peered inside anyway. The ewer was empty. She had burned all the herring oil.
    â€œThere