Page 6 of Firebird
His eyes. Bright as a burning star, they watched me. “This coin is special,” he told me. “It’s worth more than the gold it was forged from.”
“Why is that?”
“Fortuna is the goddess who guides our path through life. She bestows good fortune to those who give her tribute, who pray and listen to her.”
“I do not believe in your gods,” I told him boldly.
“That does not matter.” He took a small step forward.
I braced to run, but he stopped at that one step, seeming to want a better look at me.
“We all have our own gods,” he added, clasping his hands in front of him now, very large hands to equal the rest of his towering physique. He was far taller than any man I’d ever seen. I’d been told that before about dragons, that they were larger than human men. Still, it was astounding to behold with my own eyes. “But Fortuna loves all people of all provinces and all regions.”
His words were confusing to me. We had our own gods who we prayed and sacrificed to. Why would a goddess I didn’t worship care about me?
“Not only is Fortuna a special goddess to me,” he went on, “but this aureus was given to me by my mother, the gold minted by my own father when they married. A wedding gift. I’ve carried this aureus on me for many years.”
“Which again makes me wonder why you would give something so precious away to a stranger.”
The fear was sinking its claws in again, but then he said, “Fortuna speaks to me sometimes.” He paused. “Do you believe that?”
Of course I believed the gods and powers unknown spoke to us. I was one of a long line of mystical women who wielded gifts not of this world. My inner spirit spoke to me often. I merely nodded.
He graced me with another smile. “She spoke to me tonight. And I knew you’d need the coin for good fortune one day.”
I peered down at the image of Fortuna in my palm, the torchlight glittering on the gold piece. Then I gazed at the centurion.
“We could all use the favor of the gods. I will not shun such a gift if Fortuna has selected me for her favor.”
“Indeed.” He dipped his chin. “You are wise as you are beautiful, little firebird.”
I frowned at his familiarity and the moniker. I didn’t know what a firebird was. But before I could ask, he had taken a step back and then did something rather shocking. He bowed, a gesture saved for nobility alone.
“Farewell,” he crooned softly. “May Fortuna guide your path.”
Then he spun away, his red cloak rippling, stalked into the shadows, and disappeared.
Clutching the aureus to my chest, I fled back to our family tent, knowing I’d keep my small treasure a secret. After all, Fortuna had chosen me for her good grace. I would cherish the centurion’s coin, no matter that it was delivered by the enemy, a dragon.
I
Four years later—Eastern border of Gaul
JULIAN
Standing atop the hill, I looked down on the bloodstained field and charred bodies still smoking after the battle. Little remained of the Celtic horde, which was no surprise against a Roman legion. Though this particular clan of Celts had resisted defeat quite a few times before. I was glad their king had died on the field so that I wasn’t forced to bring him back to appease my uncle. He so enjoyed a gory public execution. The thought turned my innards to roiling acid.
The cohort of deathriders circled above—giant winged shadows inthe moonlit night sky, their fires still burning the perimeter so the Celts had no escape route. Pillars of smoke billowed upward and wafted on the wind. The deathriders would remain vigilant and on guard until I sent a messenger into the skies to let them know they could return to our base camp.
Cries erupted from the Celtic encampment in the woods where my men were now rounding up survivors for the slave market.
My most trusted tribune, Trajan, marched up the hill still in half-skin, wearing only a baldric across his chest for his gladius as was our tradition in battle for officers—the noble-born.
Triple his normal size in human form, Trajan’s dark blue-scaled skin appeared black under the cover of night. His arms bulged with muscle, hands tipped with finger-long black claws. Midnight leathery wings jutted from his back. He met my gaze with pale blue reptilian eyes, his snout jutting too far to be human, jagged teeth lining his wide dragon mouth, his thick tail lashing.
“All secure, Legatus.”
His speech was more understandable than most in half-skin. Some men couldn’t even speak at all, the dragon too willful and dominant. Powerful dragons could speak clearly in half-skin, even if his or her voice sounded rough and guttural.
