Page 49 of Firebird
“Not well.” He shook his head. “He’s from a branch of the black dragons most don’t associate with. They’re not of the quality of most patricians of their dragon lineage.”
I remembered the foul way Ciprian treated the women at the emperor’s feast, the way he spoke of Malina. Slave or not, most patricians didn’t speak of others with such vulgarity, especially in public. Except my uncle.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I added.
“So who do we take out first?” asked Trajan, having turned his back to our small circle. He was anxious for action.
“Don’t be in such a hurry.” Gaius scratched his chin. “Let’s think on it.”
“I’m tired of planning. It’s time to act,” growled Trajan, his frustration apparent.
“I understand how you’re feeling,” I said, the need to act building inside me.
I’d been wanting to kill my uncle for years, ever since the day I found out he’d dragged his sister, my aunt Camilla, from the Templeof Vesta. All my aunt had ever wanted, my father once told me, was to devote her life to Vesta. Aunt Camilla was born a white dragon, a Vicus, after all, and from a high noble house. Only white dragons could serve as priestesses in the temples. She’d been a priestess at the Temple of Vesta ever since her fifteenth birthday.
But within the same month my uncle took the throne, he hauled his sister from the temple and back to his palace. I didn’t want to know what he did to her there, but I could imagine well enough. Whatever it had been, it was awful enough to make her transform into her dragon and never shift back.
All I knew was when I returned from the campaign I’d been on with Legatus Titus, I was told my aunt Camilla now resided in a dragon pit with a chain around her neck to keep her from escaping. Caesar had built the pit near his palace, where he kept her prisoner to this day, to keep her from escaping.
That was so many years ago, and yet she remained in dragon form. My only solace was that my own father had died before that had happened. It would’ve broken his heart to see his sister that way. He would’ve fought my uncle, and he would’ve lost and died trying to free her.
“But your grandfather is right.” I returned to the conversation. “I believe switching tactics to go for his supporters first is smart. However, if my uncle catches even a whiff of insurrection, he’ll go to ground to plan a counterattack. And he’ll have plenty of forces to gather around him.”
“Agreed.” Gaius shifted his toga higher up his shoulder. “We’ll meet again when you both return from your campaign. I hope it’s a short one.” He gripped Trajan affectionately by the back of the neck like one would a child, even though Trajan stood a foot taller than his grandfather. “Be safe on the battlefield, my boy. Come back whole.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Then Gaius nodded farewell to me and melted into the shadows along the edge of the forum. Trajan and I stood in silence for several minutes, watching the vendors pack up for the day and a fewwomen getting water from the public fountain. A young girl dipped her pitcher in the fountain and tried to balance it on her head like her mother, following in her wake.
“Otho has taken a leave of absence from the senate,” I told him. “He’s taken his new bride on a trip to the southern shores.”
“Smart man.” Trajan snorted. “I imagine he might set his young wife up in a villa far from Rome for quite some time.”
“I tried to warn him that night. The hubris of senators. Have they learned nothing?”
“Unlike you, they don’t read nearly as many philosophy books.”
Growing weary of the topic and thinking of Otho’s idiocy, I heaved a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow in Moesia. Be sure to lead your legion out at dawn. I’ve already spoken to the other tribunes and given them orders.”
Trajan was frowning while watching something over my shoulder.
“Did you hear me?”
“Isn’t that your witch over there?”
I snapped my head in the direction he was looking, instantly spotting her dark hair, braided into the long rope she was accustomed to wearing. She was on the far side near the circle of temples. Ivo loped along behind her as she disappeared into one of the white marble buildings.
“See you tomorrow, Trajan.” Then I was gone, snaking through the forum to discover what Malina was doing.
XIII
MALINA
“Wait for me here,” I told Ivo.
He nodded and leaned against the outer wall at the entrance of the Temple of the Dead. I’d passed other temples, the one for Vesta where the vestal virgins kept the goddess’s eternal flame burning, the most prominent in the forum. But if I was betraying my own gods to pray to a Roman one, I didn’t want any of the others. This was where I longed to be.
Bunica was likely screaming at me from the afterworld for entering a Roman temple. But I’d prayed to our gods Zamolxis and Bendis foryears in the wilderness. Look where that had led me. I needed more powerful help.
