He frowned, trying to accept it, and Eilan realized that they were really far more alike than he knew. But it seemed to her that he was prompted by ambition, while she—if that were not also a delusion—was obeying the will of the gods.
“Then, though no one else knows it, we will work together,” said Gaius finally, his gaze returning to the child. “And with a Governor and a High Priestess for parents, what might this little one not do? Who knows; perhaps he will be Emperor himself someday.”
At that, the baby opened his eyes, considering them both impartially with his vague gaze. Gaius picked him up again, cradling him awkwardly. “Be still now, Lord of the World,” he whispered as the baby squirmed, “and let me hold you.”
At that thought—that anything so small and pink could ever grow up to be Emperor—his parents laughed.
TWENTY
Gaius returned to Londinium in a kind of bittersweet daze. He had found Eilan, and lost her. He had been forced to leave the child she had borne him, and yet, he had a son! At times, as the capital and Julia drew nearer, he wanted to turn his horse and gallop back to Eilan, but he could find no way they could stay together as a family. And he remembered how stern her face had grown when Eilan told him what being High Priestess meant to her. For a few moments she had not looked like his Eilan at all. It chilled him to think of the risk she had run to prove herself worthy, and how she had risked his son!
And yet she had wept when they parted. So, to be truthful, had he. If Eilan thought he got any pleasure from the thought of being married to Julia Licinia, she was very much mistaken. As he breasted the last hill and saw the tile roofs of the city basking in the afternoon sun, he reminded himself that he was only doing this for her sake and for the sake of their child.
It was twilight by the time he reached the house of Licinius. The Procurator had not yet returned from the tabularium, but Gaius found Julia in the women’s atrium. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, making her prettier than he had ever seen her. Not, of course, as pretty as Eilan; but then no one could be as beautiful as Eilan had become. Still, Julia might become very handsome in time.
She greeted him demurely. “So you are back from the West Country, Gaius.”
“As I stand before you, what would you say if I told you I was still in the North?”
She giggled. “Well, I have heard that the spirits of the slain sometimes appear to those they leave behind.” Suddenly she was frightened, and the mirth went out of her voice. “Gaius, tell me you are only teasing me and that I truly see you here, alive and well!” Abruptly he realized how young she was.
“I am flesh and blood,” he said wearily. But since he had been here last he had seen death and dealt it; he had seen his future in the eyes of a newborn child. Before, he had been a boy. He was a man now, and had learned to think like one. No wonder if Julia was confused by the change.
Julia came forward and touched his arm. “Yes—you are alive,” she said, more steadily. “And you have seen your British girl?” She gazed up at him.
“I have seen her—” he began, searching for a way to tell her what had happened. Julia had a right to know what kind of a husband she would be getting if she married him.
But before he could get the words out, he heard Licinius’s halting step on the mosaic floor and the moment was lost.
“So you’re back, my dear fellow.” Licinius seemed genuinely glad to see him. “I suppose this means we shall soon be having a wedding here.”
“I hope so, sir,” Gaius said, and hoped they thought his hesitation had been modesty. Perhaps it was just as well, for if Julia had refused to marry him, what hope had he of fulfilling his promises to protect Eilan and their child?
Julia smiled radiantly. Perhaps being married to her would have its compensations. She caught his glance and blushed.
“Come and see my wedding veil,” she said invitingly. “I have been working on the embroidery for months. It’s all right to show it to Gaius now, isn’t it, Father?” she asked.