The Patrician's Fortune- A Historical Romance Read Free

ahead, he could see the faint outline of a wagon, its curved sides barely discernable in the darkness. Blinking twice to clear his vision, Damon could see that it was a four—wheeled coach, the type used by the wealthy for travel along the Empire’s extensive network of roads. The pair of mules harnessed to the vehicle nickered in response to the approaching men.
    Damon’s guard pulled him up short when the officer leading the way held up a hand. From behind the wagon, a man of towering proportions swathed in a black cloak emerged. With his vision alternating between blurred to blind, Damon could distinguish little about this new adversary save his size and his smoothly shaved head, which seemed to glow as the moon’s rays broke through the clouds.
    The man and the officer conversed briefly then walked over to where Damon stood with his guard. Damon was taller than most, but this man was a colossus. A puckered scar ran along his neck and the irregular line of his nose spoke of multiple breaks. A large gold earring swung from his left ear. Damon blinked again, tried to clear the thickening cobwebs from his mind. The man reminded him of an old Sicilian pirate he’d once met in Antioch. A smile tugged at his bruised lips. A pirate in the middle of Rome? He was about to die and that would be the last person he saw? Gods, his life—what little was left of it—was like a Greek comedy.
    The pirate crossed massive arms across his chest. He scowled at Damon then addressed the officer. “Is this the best you have?”
    If he hadn’t been so close to passing out, Damon would have taken offense at the insult.
    “It’s the only one left alive.” The officer shrugged. “Another few minutes and he’d be hanging on the cross too.”
    The pirate stroked his chin. “I do not...”
    “Kaj.”
    The voice floated from behind the wagon, soft, soothing, and swirled around Damon like a fine coverlet of Egyptian linen. Surely nothing less than a goddess possessed such a voice. A goddess? Damon shook his aching head. He really was in bad shape. Now he was hallucinating about beings he didn’t believe in.
    The big man strode back to the wagon and spoke in hushed tones to the deity. Damon could not make out what was said but he hoped it didn’t involve human sacrifice. Some goddesses were known to crave such things. After a few moments, the pirate called Kaj stomped back. “Fetch a torch, so that my mistress may see how she wastes her gold.”
    Pio raced back to the campfire, returning with a lighted bundle of rushes. Damon was shuffled closer to the wagon, the torch held so close to his face that he felt the flames singeing his beard. He gritted his teeth as the officer fisted his hand in his tangled hair and jerked his head backward, angling it toward the light.
    Through the glare of the fire, a petite figure wrapped in a palla of sea blue stepped forward. The material of the cloak swathed her from head to foot, draped over her head like a veil and concealed her features. All Damon could see was one slender, alabaster hand holding the garment together.
    He watched her cautious approach. She moved with an innate grace, and though she would not stand any taller than his shoulder, there was an air of imperial confidence about her that would put the stodgiest Senator to shame. Even in his dazed state, Damon appreciated the way the material flowed as she walked, shaping to her lush, female curves with each step. A sharp twinge of disappointment struck him when the pirate positioned his hulking form between them. The goddess whispered something. The man gave no indication he’d seen it though Damon would wager the pirate missed little.
    The light from the full moon cast a pearl glow around the woman, strengthening his belief in her divine nature. But then she turned and a strand of hair the color of honey escaped the hood’s confines. Damon felt an urge to wind the curl around his finger and tugged at his bound wrists in frustration.
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