"Great destinies do not come easily."
Sebastianus reached up and drew down the other side of her hair, undoing the Grecian knot entirely. At his touch, her skin caught on fire. She had never known such sexual hunger. But she felt something else, too, a power she had never sensed before, as if it were waking up, stirring from a deep, ancient slumber.
He swept her into his arms then and, pulling her to him, pressed his lips to hers. Ulrika's arms went around his neck. She clung to him, kissing him back, relishing the hardness of his body, his masculine power and strength.
And then he began to fade, leaving her arms empty and cold.
Don't leave me ...
ACROSS THE FIRE, SEBASTIANUS watched Ulrika as she slept. It was a fitful sleep, her eyelids fluttering and small sounds coming from her throat. Of what did she dream, he wondered? She was enchanted somehow, touched by a special magic. The admission of her special gift did not surprise him. But where in all the world did such a special creature belong?
When she started to shiver violently, he took his cloak and laid down beside her, covering her with the thick blue fabric and drawing her into his arms. Her hand went up to his neck, and Sebastianus struggled against desire. Ulrika was asleep, vulnerable, and he was her protector. He would never betray that trust.
He stroked her hair and whispered words of comfort, and after a moment she grew quiet and the shivering stopped. As he watched her closed eyelids, the long lashes resting on white skin, he thought of the wondrous gift she had given him and did not know it—a priceless commodity that was going to be presented to Claudius Caesar upon Sebastianus's return to Rome and that was going to guarantee the awarding of the China diploma to him.
With such exciting thoughts in his head, Sebastianus fell asleep, holding the enchanted girl, protecting her with his strength and his warmth. And presently he sighed deeply, his broad chest expanding, and as he exhaled, a low groan came from this throat.
Ulrika opened her eyes and felt the scratch of beard stubble on her forehead. When she felt the strong arms encircling her, inhaled the masculine smell, and realized that she lay in a man's embrace, she gasped.
Ulrika had grown up in the company of women. She had no brothers, uncles, or male cousins. Wherever she and her mother had lived, it was always at a residence of females. She had never experienced the touch of a man, had never lain with a man, had never felt his heat and strength. She held her breath now, overwhelmed by the power of this man as he cradled her in his muscular arms, as she pressed her hands to his shoulders and felt the hardness beneath. She rested her face on his chest, relishing the steady thumping of his heart.
She recalled the dream she had just had. What did it mean? What had this Galician to do with a thousand-year-old medicine man? Filled with questions, Ulrika felt her doubts begin to subside. She started to see that she had not come to the Rhineland on her own, but rather had been brought here.
I was summoned here to learn the true nature of what I had thought an illness. I cannot turn my back on my calling. Mother will tell me where to find the Crystal Pools of Shalamandar, and from there I will start my true path.
Ulrika laid fingertips on Sebastianus's upper arm and drew comfort from the hardness beneath the fabric of his tunic. Sebastianus Gallus made her feel safe and secure in a way she had never felt before. It overwhelmed her. And then it soothed her until, after a while, Ulrika drifted back to peaceful slumber.
Voices woke her, and sharp rays of bright sunlight that streamed into the cave. She found herself alone by a cold campfire.
Rising, adjusting her dress, her palla and her hair, she went to the cave's entrance and saw Sebastianus standing among green trees and grass, shining like gold in the morning sun, talking quietly with Timonides, Nestor, and a company of slaves and soldiers.
When he turned to look at her, Ulrika smiled. She knew now what she must do. She would not turn her back on the gift from the gods, she would not call it an illness anymore. She was filled with fresh resolve and determination to search for the meaning and purpose of her visions, and in so doing find her own meaning and purpose, and finally, where she belonged.
BOOK THREE
ITALIA
11
AS NESTOR FOLLOWED THE girl with the sunlight hair through the busy marketplace, his keen nose picked up, among the many scents in the air, the spicy aroma of mutton roasting over a fire.
He swiveled his big head this way and that, and when he saw the great shank, peppered and darkly crisp, being turned on a spit, he loped over to the stall where it was being cooked and knew at once that the meat would be perfectly pink in the middle, the fat slightly yellow and ready to melt on the tongue, the skin crunchy and easy to peel.
He would take it home to Father.
The man who was cooking the meat, a chubby Armenian with a big nose and ringlet curls cascading over his shoulders, gave Nestor a suspicious look. "What do you want?" he snapped.
Nestor smiled and reached out to lift the mutton leg from the fire.
"Hey!" the Armenian shouted, drawing the attention of his wife and sons, who were busy at the wooden counter with other customers, exchanging meat and beer for coins.
Before the man could strike Nestor with a stick, a gentle voice said, "No, Nestor, you must not take that." And he felt a hand on his arm, coaxing him away from the stall.
It was the girl with the sunlight-hair. Her name was Reeka and she was kind to him. Other people called him names and told him he should never have been born. Some people even hit him with sticks and caused him pain. But Reeka was always gentle, she always smiled at him.
And so he turned and followed her, the mutton roast forgotten.
Offering a word of apology to the Armenian, Ulrika guided Nestor back to the direction they had been heading, toward the temple of Minerva. She did not mind keeping an eye on Nestor while Timonides visited the public baths in town. Taking care of his son was a full-time job, and Ulrika knew that once in a while the astrologer appreciated a spell of time for himself.
Nestor needed watching because he had no grasp of the concept of purchasing or trading in the marketplace. He thought everything was there for the taking. He also needed to be watched because he had a tendency to frighten people. Ulrika knew that the simpleton wouldn't harm a flea, but he was large and lumbering and walked with a rolling gait that gave him an aggressive aspect. And although Timonides tried to keep his son clean, Nestor had a habit of spilling on himself, and wiping his hands on his tunic, which made him appear out of control—another reason for people to fear him.
But Ulrika knew the biggest reason people shied away from Nestor was his round face with tiny slanting eyes and perpetual smile. These features made people uneasy because they were reminders of the perversity of nature and that it was only through the grace of the gods that they and their own children were normal.