decided that he’d never known a woman speak so much and say so little, apart from polished compliments. She was unstoppable, and similar to Plod when the mares were in heat. He felt no envy for the man who would become her husband at some time in the future. But, despite his reservations, he dismounted and led Coal by the reins, shortening his stride to match Gallia’s smaller steps.
‘I’m sure the farm will do without me for a time, if you desire my attention.’
The last traces of Gallia’s flirtatious manner fell away like a discarded shawl. Her eyes pinned him so directly that Artorex was forced to halt.
‘I’m glad you have the time to speak to me.’ She smiled disarmingly before continuing. ‘You’re aware by now that I’ll be living at the villa as companion to Julanna. She’s my friend of many years’ standing, but even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve become curious about the nature of her life in the villa - and especially her reliance on her husband.’
She smiled guilelessly up at Artorex once again, so her next words left him gaping.
‘Does he beat her often?’ Gallia asked bluntly.
‘That’s not a question for me to answer, my lady,’ Artorex replied. ‘I act as the Steward of the Household and it’s not my place to comment on the actions of my masters.’ Artorex closed his eyes for a short moment. This girl-child had no tact at all.
‘Come, Artorex. Who at the villa will answer me if you do not? I have always preferred plain speaking - it saves so much time.’
Artorex examined her determined face with narrowed, opaque eyes. What would this child say next?
‘Caius is the son of Lord Ector,’ he said. ‘And one day he will be my master.’
‘But you are free-born. Have you no brain under all that hair?’ Gallia retorted tartly.
For no reason in particular, Artorex laughed. As an angry young woman, she reminded him of a speckled hen, dashing here and there, with her beak on the ready to peck at the nearest enemy toe.
Gallia saw his laughter for what it was - patronizing indulgence - and she stamped her feet in frustration.
‘Even a woman can reason, Steward,’ she hissed.
‘In answer to your question,’ Artorex shrugged, ‘Caius is . . . just . . . Caius. He is an only son of a wealthy Roman family, and he believes himself to be important in the world.’
‘Is he too important to spend some time with his wife who is gravid with his child?’
‘He feels he is far too important for all this good earth as well.’ Artorex’s outspread arms encompassed the Villa Poppinidii and the lands that surrounded it. Bitterness lay under his sarcasm and Gallia could clearly hear the gall in his response.
‘Then he’s a fool,’ Gallia replied, somewhat mollified by Artorex’s frankness. ‘He trusts his wealth to the honesty of others.’ She turned on her heel and began to stride in the direction of the villa. Artorex was forced to follow.
‘You are also being foolish, Mistress Gallia, if you speak harshly of your host inside his own house.’
She stopped abruptly, and stared directly into Artorex’s eyes.
‘Do you deny the truth of what I’ve been saying?’ she demanded.
‘No. But it’s not your place to say it. Mistress Julanna is the wife of Caius, and she’s his property to do with as he wills. We live by the old ways, and the Villa Poppinidii follows the ancient traditions.’
‘Even you, Artorex?’
‘Caius and I are not friends, nor ever will be. I’ll serve him as a servant, but only out of gratitude to my foster-parents. I don’t need to love Caius to be his steward.’
Somehow, Artorex realized, this slip of a girl, so tiny and so inflexible, had wrung an admission from him that he would not have made to any living man.
‘The blood that flows through my veins is purer than that which nurtures Caius,’ Gallia retorted haughtily, with her head held high. ‘I am all Roman, not a bastardized Celt. His actions are appalling for a man
‘I’m sure the farm will do without me for a time, if you desire my attention.’
The last traces of Gallia’s flirtatious manner fell away like a discarded shawl. Her eyes pinned him so directly that Artorex was forced to halt.
‘I’m glad you have the time to speak to me.’ She smiled disarmingly before continuing. ‘You’re aware by now that I’ll be living at the villa as companion to Julanna. She’s my friend of many years’ standing, but even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve become curious about the nature of her life in the villa - and especially her reliance on her husband.’
She smiled guilelessly up at Artorex once again, so her next words left him gaping.
‘Does he beat her often?’ Gallia asked bluntly.
‘That’s not a question for me to answer, my lady,’ Artorex replied. ‘I act as the Steward of the Household and it’s not my place to comment on the actions of my masters.’ Artorex closed his eyes for a short moment. This girl-child had no tact at all.
‘Come, Artorex. Who at the villa will answer me if you do not? I have always preferred plain speaking - it saves so much time.’
Artorex examined her determined face with narrowed, opaque eyes. What would this child say next?
‘Caius is the son of Lord Ector,’ he said. ‘And one day he will be my master.’
‘But you are free-born. Have you no brain under all that hair?’ Gallia retorted tartly.
For no reason in particular, Artorex laughed. As an angry young woman, she reminded him of a speckled hen, dashing here and there, with her beak on the ready to peck at the nearest enemy toe.
Gallia saw his laughter for what it was - patronizing indulgence - and she stamped her feet in frustration.
‘Even a woman can reason, Steward,’ she hissed.
‘In answer to your question,’ Artorex shrugged, ‘Caius is . . . just . . . Caius. He is an only son of a wealthy Roman family, and he believes himself to be important in the world.’
‘Is he too important to spend some time with his wife who is gravid with his child?’
‘He feels he is far too important for all this good earth as well.’ Artorex’s outspread arms encompassed the Villa Poppinidii and the lands that surrounded it. Bitterness lay under his sarcasm and Gallia could clearly hear the gall in his response.
‘Then he’s a fool,’ Gallia replied, somewhat mollified by Artorex’s frankness. ‘He trusts his wealth to the honesty of others.’ She turned on her heel and began to stride in the direction of the villa. Artorex was forced to follow.
‘You are also being foolish, Mistress Gallia, if you speak harshly of your host inside his own house.’
She stopped abruptly, and stared directly into Artorex’s eyes.
‘Do you deny the truth of what I’ve been saying?’ she demanded.
‘No. But it’s not your place to say it. Mistress Julanna is the wife of Caius, and she’s his property to do with as he wills. We live by the old ways, and the Villa Poppinidii follows the ancient traditions.’
‘Even you, Artorex?’
‘Caius and I are not friends, nor ever will be. I’ll serve him as a servant, but only out of gratitude to my foster-parents. I don’t need to love Caius to be his steward.’
Somehow, Artorex realized, this slip of a girl, so tiny and so inflexible, had wrung an admission from him that he would not have made to any living man.
‘The blood that flows through my veins is purer than that which nurtures Caius,’ Gallia retorted haughtily, with her head held high. ‘I am all Roman, not a bastardized Celt. His actions are appalling for a man
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