take Thelonius over the cliff with him. She could
not let that happen.
Rising to her feet, she pulled her stola off so it would not
trip her. Closing her eyes, she screamed and ran forward. Thelonius screamed as
she connected with his back, breaking open the scabs from his cut.
Eratos jumped down beside her as Thelonius threw his arms up
in the air before losing his balance and tumbling over the edge. She buried her
head against Eratos’ chest, listening to Thelonius’ brief scream before there
was nothing but silence.
“Is he…?” she whispered.
“Aye, he’s dead.”
She began to shake over the realization of what she had
done, and the fact that they were now both free.
“I couldn’t bear him to hurt you, Eratos. I love you with
every fiber of my being.”
Eratos held her close. “And I you, anam cara . I had
nothing to live for, until you.”
Helena held back her tears of happiness. “You must hide for
now. The guards will be here soon to investigate. I must act the part of a
proper widow.”
Eratos nodded. “I understand.” Helena helped him gather his
things and he retreated to the confines of the olive grove alcove. It was only
then she managed to walk to the edge of the garden, to the wall that dropped
down to the streets below.
She saw a crowd gathering around Thelonius’ broken body
lying against the cobblestones, the guards looking up at the villa in mixed
confusion.
“By the gods, no!” she screamed so they could hear her. “My
husband!”
Epilogue
Two months later
She took the steps two at a time, the sounds of a chisel
coming from what had once been Thelonius’ room. Now, she could hear Eratos
working on it, converting it into a rooftop terrace where they could lie out and
watch the stars together.
She had played the part of the sobbing widow so well that
the Antioch guards did not question her. She had told the soldiers a slaver had
come to kidnap her and Thelonius killed him, but in his haste tumbled off the
far wall. He was considered a hero, but she did not care. An Imperial scroll
had come from Emperor Nero bestowing his condolences and as much as she wanted
to tear it up she knew she could not. So she placed it in Thelonius’ funerary
urn, which she promptly dumped into the sea, stating it was his fondest wish as
there had been no will to attest to anything different.
Everything belonged to her again. No more would her money be
used for Thelonius’ sick need to bleed and torment unwilling subjects. He was
gone, and both she and Eratos were free.
As much as she wished to marry him, she knew they could not
legally do so. Spiritually she knew they were bound together forever and by
something secret growing underneath her heart.
When she entered the chamber she saw the walls had been
sanded down and Eratos was redoing them in Celtic tile work.
She stood there for a moment, admiring the way his muscles
rippled, the sun bronzing his skin. He was growing back his blond hair—he no
longer shaved it down—and it thrilled her to no end thinking about the moment
it would return to its full luster and she would be able to run her hands
through it.
Eratos turned and smiled at her. “ Anam cara , I did
not hear you come up.”
“I have come to admire your work.”
Eratos bowed, motioning her to come into the room. She stood
in front of the shimmering tiles, staring at the intricate knot-work design
done in turquoise.
“What is it? It’s beautiful.”
“It is a symbol for atonement. I thought it was fitting.”
“Yes, very.” She ran her fingers over the cool pottery
tiles. “Beautiful.” She could not stop grinning.
“You’re looking very pleased with yourself this morning.”
Helena chuckled. “I have a secret.”
Eratos arched a brow. “Oh, do tell.”
“I am with child.”
He took a step back, dumbfounded. “Truly?”
She nodded her head. “Are you pleased?”
“Am I pleased?” He let out a roar of laughter and swung her
around. “ Anam cara ,