Читать книгу Valeria's Cross - Kathi Macias - Страница 9

The next morning, Valeria awakened to the sight of her mother standing at her bedchamber door, waving a letter in her hand.

“A messenger arrived at dawn with news from your father.”

Valeria threw back the bed linens and jumped up. “Is Father all right?”

“I assure you, he is fine, but he has asked us to return to Nicomedia at once.”

With no attempt to hide her disappointment, Valeria plunked back down on her bed. “But we cannot leave now; I love Egypt!” Just yesterday Valeria had seen the man she was sure she wanted to marry. They simply could not leave before she had a chance to meet him.

Her mother sat down beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. “I understand. I, too, would prefer not to leave.”

“Then why must we go? Can you not convince Father that we should stay in Egypt? He told us Nicomedia was unsafe.”

“The circumstances have changed over the past few weeks. Your father has asked us to return so we can host the victorious general, Galerius, at the palace.”

“Oh, him.” Valeria was not impressed and demonstrated her feelings with a careless shrug.

Her mother’s look was stern. “Do you understand the importance of these battles in Gaul? General Galerius and his legion won the first few skirmishes, and your father wants him to take some time off to relax and enjoy himself before the major battle begins.”

Valeria sighed. “The general is all anyone talks about these days. But why can he and his family not stay at the palace without us? There are plenty of servants who can take care of them.”

“Who would entertain them?”

“The citizens of Nicomedia would be delighted to host a war hero, especially one so famous.”

“This may be true, but your father would never allow it. And General Galerius would be highly offended if we were not in residence during his visit.”

Valeria stuck out her lower lip, a gesture that obviously did not go unnoticed by her mother.

“And you, young lady, had better tuck that lip back in and practice your bow, because we are going home to entertain our famous guest.”

Valeria swallowed a grin, determined not to yield to her mother’s persuasive arguments. “Why not invite General Galerius here? The weather in Thessalonica is dreadful this time of year. Here the commander and his family could enjoy the sunshine and the scenery, not to mention the fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden.”

“You sound like our Egyptian guide,” Prisca quipped, as she tucked an unruly lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “But it is apparent that you have inherited your father’s brains, young lady. Hosting the general and his family in Egypt is a brilliant suggestion.”

Prisca was successful in persuading the emperor to change his mind, so she and Valeria remained in Egypt. A month later, Galerius and his family joined them in Elephantine.

Soon after the arrival of the general and his family, Valeria passed Galerius in the hallway. Was it her imagination, or had he deliberately brushed his body against hers?

“Excuse me, my lady,” he apologized. “What a beautiful woman you have become, a peach ripe for picking in the springtime. How old are you?”

Valeria blushed, her answer barely audible. “Fourteen.” It was the first time anyone had referred to her as a woman.

“The beautiful daughter of the great emperor must have scores of suitors.”

Valeria dared not answer; Galerius moved closer. He reached for her hand, which was clenched into a fist at her side, then lifted it to his lips. Valeria shivered at the unfamiliar sensation, a strange mixture of revulsion and excitement.

“Ah, my kiss has caused you to tremble,” Galerius chuckled. Valeria struggled to breathe and to keep her hand far from his lips, but she was unable to extricate it from his grip.

“I really must go,” Valeria pleaded. “Eugenia is waiting for me.”

As if in answer to an unspoken prayer, Eugenia suddenly appeared in the hallway. Galerius dropped Valeria’s hand, and the poor girl sighed with relief.

“I have been searching for you,” Eugenia announced, her voice authoritative. “Your tutor is waiting in the library.”

Following Eugenia, Valeria hurried away, relieved to escape the clutches of Galerius.

“What did he say to you?” Eugenia asked when they were out of hearing distance.

“That I was pretty.” Valeria laughed nervously. She decided not to make an issue of the uncomfortable encounter because of Eugenia’s tendency to overreact. From now on, however, Valeria determined she would avoid their guest.

“Do not allow the general’s honey mouth to flatter you,” Eugenia warned. “He may be handsome, but it is inappropriate for you to be alone with such a charmer—especially a married one.”

Valeria was incredulous. “You find him attractive? And charming?”

Eugenia blushed. “There is no disputing that fact.”

“Well, I find him revolting.”

This time Eugenia laughed. “Oh, you are still such a little girl, dear one!”

Following her encounter with Galerius, Valeria avoided the hallways and enjoyed breakfast alone in her private garden. Though she noticed him every morning, watching her from his bedroom window, she managed to evade him. Yet his stares made her uncomfortable. Even during dinner he spied on her out of the corner of his eye, but she pretended not to notice.

This particular morning, Valeria hurried down the marble steps into the magnificent gardens surrounding the palace. Servants appeared out of nowhere, as Valeria glided toward the table for breakfast. Eager to please, they fluttered around the princess as she took her seat on the divan before the table laden with delicacies. A dark male servant filled her tumbler with grape juice from a golden pitcher. Valeria smiled in gratitude, then pointed to a sumptuous apricot that crowned the platter of fruit. Within seconds, it appeared in slices upon her plate.

A loud voice boomed throughout the garden—Galerius! Valeria ducked behind the flowers arranged in a cobalt vase on the table, but to her surprise, Galerius did not even glance her way when he and his entourage passed by. Instead, he proceeded through the garden, flanked by four bodyguards, toward a stranger who had just arrived atop a magnificent ebony horse.

In the short time Galerius had been their guest at the palace, Valeria and the servants had come to despise him. And yet Valeria enjoyed the company of his daughter, also named Valeria, which caused some confusion in the household. The girl was only a year or so younger than Valeria, and they both enjoyed the company of the Egyptian youth. But the younger Valeria’s parents, both pagans, strictly forbade their daughter to accompany the group of women to the monastery.

Valeria strained now to see the visitor in the garden, who had dismounted and stood erect, waiting. When she realized he was a soldier, she called to a nearby servant, “Official business? Perhaps another war has broken out.” The servant, appearing disinterested, nodded and set a bowl of honeyed pottage in front of her. She picked up her spoon but set it down again, squinting as the mid-morning sun glinted off the metal helmet held in the hand of the tall, broad-shouldered warrior. There was something about him . . .

Valeria rose from the table and peered through the boxwoods for a closer look at the young soldier who waited among the roses. His back was turned halfway toward her, his eyes fixed on some distant point of reference. Was that a cross emblazoned upon his helmet? She peered closer. Yes, it was!

Although there were many Christians in the Roman Army, Galerius’ hatred for them was well-known. Why would he choose to meet with this particular soldier? If the general had agreed to see him, Valeria presumed this young man was a distinguished warrior, which intrigued her all the more.

Though she could not see his full face from her vantage point, the outline of the handsome stranger’s aquiline features and his muscular build made her heart flutter. She thought he looked like a living statue of Apollo, and though she was tempted to stay where she was until he turned and revealed his face, she convinced herself to return to the table. There was no sense risking attracting Galerius’ attention. Besides, she would still have a nice view of the attractive soldier from the divan.

Lifting her goblet, she sipped the grape juice, hoping her pulse would slow and her hands would stop trembling. Excitement churned in the pit of her stomach, and the strange and unfamiliar sensation frightened her. Perhaps this soldier, unlike the athlete she had seen a month ago, was interested in marriage. The visitor remained oblivious to her presence, so she took full advantage of her brief invisibility to study him, trying to imagine his thoughts. Was he remembering his last battle, or anticipating the next? Did he have a wife who longed for him at home while he was away at battle? The thought disturbed her, so much so that she quickly and quietly returned to her earlier spot among the bushes.

When Galerius approached the soldier, Valeria ducked so he would not see her. From there, she watched the young man fall to his knees, cross his right arm over his chest, and pound his heart with his fist in a salute to a superior officer.

Galerius motioned for the soldier to stand. Both men reached out their arms and touched their fingertips in the traditional Roman greeting. Valeria listened intently while he addressed the young visitor. “Captain Mauritius, the great Emperor Diocletian has summoned your Theban legion into battle in Gaul. Are you prepared?”

Mauritius! Could it be? Valeria’s heart banged against her ribs. She had nearly given up hope of meeting him . . . and yet, she had prayed, had she not? Now God had brought him to her garden!

Valeria watched the men converse until Galerius strode away, perhaps on his way to the Great Temple of Ramses to make his daily sacrifices. She abandoned her meal and hurried to the other side of the hedges. This could be the only opportunity she would have to speak with Mauritius, who had resumed his pensive pose, possibly contemplating his new orders while he waited for a stable hand to fetch his horse.

The closer Valeria got, the more handsome the soldier appeared. As daughter of the Roman emperor, her privileged life had afforded her introductions to hundreds of rulers and kings, but she thought Mauritius far more regal than any man she had ever met.

Of course, she had no intention of admitting that to him. For now Valeria would be content to hear his voice. She had heard so much about Mauritius since the day she had seen him in the arena, but they had never met—until now.

Valeria stood behind the bushes for a moment, mustering up her courage to speak to the captain. At last she stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Captain Mauritius?” Her voice squeaked, causing her cheeks to flush with embarrassment, but she stood her ground.

Valeria had expected Mauritius to jolt from his reverie and spin around in the direction of her voice, but he did not. Slowly he turned, as if he had known all along that she was there, watching him. Perhaps he had.

Mauritius smiled, revealing the whitest teeth she had ever seen. His dark eyes twinkled with a delight that appeared close to amusement, and he dipped his head in a slight bow.

“Captain Mauritius, at your service.” He chuckled. “And who might you be, lovely lady?”

Valeria could not speak. His eyes! Valeria had never seen any quite like them. It was as though he could see inside her soul. And his voice! Joy resounded in his words, as smooth and warm as honey, yet authoritative, as she would have expected from a man in his position. If she had thought he was attractive from a distance, he was more so now that he faced her with his square jaw and chiseled features, his dark curls moving slightly in the breeze. The golden cross that hung from a heavy chain around his neck sparkled in the sunlight.

“I asked your name,” he repeated softly.

Still Valeria could not utter a single word.

“Please, do not be afraid,” he coaxed, holding out his hand.

She offered her trembling hand in return. Her mouth felt dry, and she wondered if she would be able to speak. She cleared her throat.

“I . . . am . . . Valeria. I am delighted to meet you.”

“And so am I . . . delighted to meet you.” His smile seemed warmer now, more genuine, as he stepped closer, lifting her hand to his lips for a kiss of greeting and respect. His kiss produced the same strange sensation she had felt when Galerius kissed it, only this time it was not commingled with revulsion.

“I heard Emperor Diocletian had a beautiful daughter,” he said, “but I never imagined I would have the honor of meeting her.”

“How did you hear of me?”

“Since the day your ship arrived in Egypt, is there anyone who has not heard of the young woman with eyes the color of turquoise and hair as golden red as the mane of a lion?” He reached up and pulled a sprig of boxwood from her hair and handed it to her.

“Who told you about me?” She twirled the evergreen between two fingers on her free hand.

“Nanu.”

Valeria smiled. “Ah, yes.”

“But she did not tell me you were so incredibly lovely that you would take my breath away when I gazed upon your face.”

Valeria’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, and she quickly withdrew her hand when she realized she had allowed it to linger a moment too long.

The young couple stared at one another, wordless. At last, uncomfortable in the silence, Valeria spoke.

“I suppose I had better go inside and report to my tutor. He is probably waiting for me.”

“But we have only just met.” Mauritius’ dark eyes clouded with disappointment, and the tone of his voice took on a hint of pleading. “Please stay.”

“I suppose I could . . . for a moment more,” she agreed with a smile.

His eyes were dancing again, but he suddenly appeared shy, as if he were searching for the right words. Finally he asked, “Do you like Egypt?”

“More than any place I have ever visited. But, really, I must go now. My tutor will be searching for me.” Mauritius was far too handsome and outspoken for her to feel comfortable in his presence without a chaperone. She felt panicked in her need to escape from him, yet she could not pull herself away.

“You must not keep your tutor waiting.” He smiled as he dipped his head in farewell. “I shall look forward to seeing you again soon—with your permission, of course.”

“But you are leaving for Gaul,” she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

“My troops do not even know that yet. How is it that you are privy to such information?” He grinned. “Were you hiding in the bushes when the general presented our orders?”

Valeria knew she was caught but could think of nothing to say in her defense. Instead, she turned on her heel and took a slight step away from the handsome soldier with the laughing eyes. To her surprise he reached for her and took her hand.

“I will be in Thebes for several more weeks before I have to leave for Gaul,” he said, gently turning her toward him. “With your father’s permission, I would like to see you again . . . and again.” He smiled, and her heart jumped.

“As would I . . . like to see you,” she said breathlessly, wondering even as she spoke how she could say such a thing to someone she had only just met. Then, before she could say or do anything more to further humiliate herself, she turned and hurried away. When she thought she was out of his range of vision, she abandoned her control and danced on the pathway, her skirt swirling about her ankles.

“I shall see you soon, beautiful dancing lady,” he called out to her.

And then she heard the servants’ laughter mingling with that of Mauritius’. Was this any way for an emperor’s daughter to behave?

Fighting tears of humiliation, she vowed she should never see the handsome soldier again. He simply held too much power over her, and she could not risk disgracing her family.

But she had to see him again, because at that moment she knew in her heart that she wanted to marry Mauritius—and she would not wait long to see it happen. She would find her mother and persuade her to speak to her father about the matter. Unless the young man decided he did not want her for his wife, or her father objected to her marrying a Christian, Valeria knew that Mauritius would soon be hers. She hugged herself and imagined for a moment what it would be like for him to hold her in his strong arms.

Valeria smiled. There were definitely advantages to being the emperor’s daughter. Besides, there was nothing to be ashamed of; her feelings for Mauritius were pure.

She could feel his eyes following her as she ran into the palace to find her mother, but she no longer cared that he was watching. She spun around and waved at him one last time, and he threw his head back, curls tumbling, and laughed.

A fine soldier like Mauritius! Father was going to love him; she was sure of it. Then life truly would be perfect.