That night, Marie found herself unable to sleep. She was still awake when the sun once again spread itself over the land like a blanket at dawn. From her window, Marie watched as the sky changed colour, from a pitch black, to a dark blue, then purple, red, pink and finally a pale shimmering blue that gave evidence of the wonderful day to come.
As she watched it all, Marie’s fingers kept straying to the torc which she still wore about her throat. It was something that Logan cared a great deal about. Something that Marie planned on returning to him when the time was right. In a week, the copper torc would once again be around Logan’s throat. Until she could give it back to him, Marie would keep it safe.
Marie wasn’t aware of when she had made the decision or if there had even been a decision to make in the first place. However it had come about, the fact remained that Logan would be with her when she left Rome in a week’s time. Together they would both leave their prison and never return.
“You’re lucky your father didn’t realize where you disappeared to last night,” Jubilation said as she appeared suddenly at Marie’s side.
A small appeared on Marie’s face and her fingers wandered up towards her lips. “At this point I do not care. Last night was magical and I know I will never forget it.”
“Does this mean I get to find out what happened last night?” Jubilation asked, her eyes trained on her mistress. “What on earth were you going in that room with the barbarian?”
“I was being touched for the first time,” Marie murmured, her eyes drifting shut as a wide smile appeared on her face. “I felt his callused palms against my skin... his lips burn against my own... his cheek against my cheek... I felt his hair, his chest.... I touched him and he didn’t die.”
Jubilation let out a sharp intake of breath. “You let Logan touch you? What, in the name of all the gods, were you thinking?”
“There was really not much thinking involved,” Marie admitted, sighing lightly. “I went in to apologize to him for having to receive something that belonged to him as a gift from Flavius. Then he was touching the torc.... Next thing I know, his finger trailed up to my throat. I warned him that he could be killed if he touched my skin, but Logan said that he would rather die by my hand than anyone else’s....”
This time it was Jubilation who let out a sigh. “If I didn’t fear so much what your father will do to you if he finds out, that would be the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”
Marie spun around quickly, her eyes trained on Jubilation’s face. “And my father must never know! He must go on believing that I am untouched and that I believe his lies about my skin being poison. Logan will be killed if what happened is ever found out so you must not tell a living soul. I need to ensure that Logan stays alive until we leave the city. He can’t die. I won’t let him.”
Placing her hands on Marie’s shoulders, which were covered by the sheet she had drawn around herself upon leaving her bed, Jubilation steered her towards the vanity. “It is very hard to predict how long a gladiator will live, Mistress. He could be dead by the end of the day.”
“Do not say such a thing!” Marie hissed, turning her head to glare at Jubilation. “Logan will not die! I won’t allow it! And besides, he doesn’t fight until the last day of the Saturnalia. Flavius was saying something last night about a new type of weapon being made for Logan. By the time it’s done and Logan is taught how to use it, it will be the last day of the festival. So he only has to fight in one match.”
“You have a lot of confidence in him,” Jubilation said softly.
Sitting down in front of the vanity, Marie reached up and touched the cool metal of the torc. It was much too big for her since it had been made to fit around Logan’s much wider throat. Marie could clearly envision it resting against the base of Logan’s neck where it met his shoulders.
“Logan will win. He will survive,” Marie declared, her eyes never leaving the spot on her reflection where she was touching the torc. “And as soon as it is possible, we will leave.”
“Do you know where you will go?” Jubilation asked as she began brushing out Marie’s hair.
Marie was silent for a moment as she pondered Jubilation’s question. The truth of the matter was that she hadn’t given her escape much thought beyond the fact that she and Logan would leave Rome forever.
“My Aunt Livia,” Marie said suddenly, ashamed that she had not thought of it sooner. “She and my father hate each other. They refuse to even acknowledge that the other exists. She told me once that if I ever wanted to be away from my father forever that I could stay with her.... It’s perfect. She lives only three days away so I could get word to her quick enough and warn her that I am coming.”
“Then I take it there will be no changing your mind,” Jubilation stated plainly.
“There is nothing else that I can do,” Marie told her. “I will not stand idly by while my father marries me off at a whim nor will I allow Flavius to profit at Logan’s expense. It will be more difficult to get everything arranged with the Saturnalia taking place at the same time, but I will not be stopped. I will not allow myself to fail.”
As Marie had predicted, the following days proved very difficult. For seven days during the year, business all but stopped while Romans celebrated the Saturnalia. Almost as soon as the sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn was completed on the first day, the city turned into a festival. There were plays, feasts, chariot races, gladiatorial matches and just about everything else that the Romans could think of to keep themselves entertained. At elaborate banquets hosted every night, people would wander from house to house where masters served their slaves and people were all dressed in costume. It was the one time of the year when the Romans really seemed to be enjoying themselves.
The only easy task was finding someone travelling to the town her aunt lived in that would deliver the message. Warm clothes for Logan to wear had been procured by Jubilation from male friends that she had all over the city. Blankets and food were unknowingly provided by Magnus himself. As their supplies began to add up, Marie and Jubilation packed them in saddlebags or rolled them up in blankets which were then hidden in the far corners of Marie’s wardrobe.
Free of her layers of clothing and distinct veil, Marie was able to sneak around the city without anyone paying much attention to her. On one of her and Jubilation’s trips into the city, they ended up in front of the arena where the gladiators trained.
“Jubilation! I see Logan!” Marie cried, grabbing onto her friend’s arm.
Running quickly across the square, Marie came to a stop in front of the iron gate. She gripped the bars tightly, peering inside at Logan who was making a series of slashing motions with his hands. Instead of holding a sword, saber, triton or any other normal weapon that the gladiators used, Logan was wearing strange devices on his hands, each of which was topped with three large, claw-like knives. They looked heavy and Marie was surprised that Logan could maneuver them as easily as he was.
“Logan!” Marie shouted, bouncing up and down and waving in his direction. “Logan, over here!”
It took a few moments, but Logan soon caught sight of her in his peripheral vision. A wide grin on his face, Logan jogged towards Marie. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him and Marie was relieved at that because it meant that she had Logan all to herself for a little while.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you again,” Logan sighed, reaching through the bars to lightly cup her face.
Snaking her fingers into his hair, Marie pulled his face forward and brushed her lips against his. “I have wonderful news, Logan. In three days we’re leaving the city.”
Logan stared at her, his eyes wide with shock. “That’s not funny, Marie.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” Marie said softly, running a hand up and down his arm. “Jubilation and I are getting everything ready. We have clothes, blankets, food and everything else we’ll need for the three day journey to my aunt’s house. We’ll be safe there, Logan. Both of us.”
“Why are you doing this?” Logan whispered, fighting to keep the hope out of his eyes. “Why are you acting as though I matter?”
Marie pulled his head forwards so that their foreheads touched. “You do matter, Logan. You matter to me and I’m not about to let you go. So when I leave the city before the wedding, I’m not going to leave you behind. I want you to come with me, Logan. Will you?”
Logan grinned broadly, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I would be honoured to go with you, Marie. To spend forever with you.”
“That sounds amazing,” Marie sighed, her eyes falling shut. “Three more days and it will be true. That’s a promise.”
“Is there anything I need to do?” Logan inquired, running his thumbs along her cheekbones.
Marie leaned into his caress, opening her eyes once again. “Just stay alive. The rest will take care of itself.”
Feeling the press of cold metal separating her cheek from Logan’s palm, Marie pulled back so that she could get a better look at the weapons that Flavius had had built for Logan. There was a wide strip of steel that ran across the center of his palm helping to secure the metal plate to the back of his hand. Between each of his fingers were much thinner strips of steel that ran from the metal plate, across his palm where they were welded to the piece of iron running in the other direction before eventually becoming attached to the thick manacle around his wrist. The metal plate on the top of his hand had a hinge in the center of it so that the bottom half could be lifted up in order for Logan to slip his hand into the glove-like weapon before the plate was lowered back down and the lower portion of it was locked beneath the manacle.
The most frightening part of all, though, were the three large blades that protruded from the bands of iron between his knuckles. The blades looked like that from a saber, only much smaller. Each blade was about nine inches long, slightly curved and finely sharpened.
“You’re poor hands,” Marie murmured, pressing soft kisses to his fingertips. The rest of his fingers had been wrapped in leather straps to protect them from the lethal blades, leaving only his thumb uncovered since there was no blade between his thumb and index finger. “They can’t honestly expect you to fight like this.”
“They can and they do,” Logan said bitterly, pulling his hands back through the gate and staring down at them in disgust. “These wretched things make my hands ache, but Pietro claims that the gods sent this to him in a dream and that I was just the warrior to wear them which means that I have no choice in the matter. Not that I had one to begin with.”
Tears in her eyes, Marie reached out and ran her hand along Logan’s cheek. “Three more days, Logan. That’s all you need to survive. Just three more days.”
“Get back here, barbarian!” a deep voice shouted from somewhere back in the arena.
“Will I get to see you before then?” Logan whispered, trying to hold off his departure as long as he could.
“Mistress, we must go now,” Jubilation called from behind her.
Urging his head forward, Marie captured Logan’s lips in a deep kiss that Marie prayed would express all of the emotions that she could find no words for.
“Barbarian, get your worthless carcass over here now!”
“Mistress, please! Your father will be waiting for you!”
“My heart is yours, Logan,” Marie whimpered against his lips, trying desperately to control herself yet still failing. “Yours to keep forever.”
Logan kissed her again, almost savagely, before stepping back. “Just as mine is yours.”
Tears sliding down her cheeks, Marie watched as Logan turned and jogged towards a giant brute of a man standing in the centre of the arena. Unable to watch, yet unwilling to turn away, Marie had to be guided from the square by Jubilation.
“It is as you told Logan,” Jubilation whispered in her ear as they began the walk back to the villa. “Three more days.”
Marie heaved a great sigh, using the edge of her cloak to wipe her tears away. “I fear that three days may be too long.”