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presence. As much as she
wanted Thelonius to die, she worried about Thelonius’ power and the threat he
had given to Helena five years ago. She did not want to see Eratos die in the
gladiatorial arena should he fail in his quest. Eratos did not deserve to die,
she did not want him to die—the way her father had died because of Thelonius.
    Helena had dressed in a simple linen shift and then returned
to bed, waiting for Thelonius to discover Eratos’ message.
    She did not have long to wait before his cry rent through
the still morning, causing a large flock of cormorants to squawk and depart her
garden. Helena grinned, but it didn’t take long before she heard the uneven
sounds of Thelonius lumbering down the stairs of the main hall. He burst into
her room, his face sweaty and red. His eyes wide with fear.
    “You, come with me.”
    “Why?”
    Thelonius’ body shook with rage, his face red. “Now.”
Reaching out, he grabbed her, dragging him from her bedchamber before she had
time to affix her stola. He dragged her up the main stairwell to his room.
    He pushed her into the room and she came face-to-face with
Eratos’ bloody handprint and the message of revenge he had carved into the
plaster of the wall.
    “Well?” Thelonius demanded breathlessly. “What do you see?”
    “I see someone does not like you very much.”
    “Do not be flippant with me.”
    Helena turned around and stared at Thelonius. “I am not
being flippant, nor contrite.”
    “I think you know more than you are letting on.”
    “Why would you say that?”
    Thelonius’ eyes narrowed. “Because the guards remained
outside my door all night, and the only other way in is the passageway from
your chamber.”
    “You know of the passageway?” she asked, dismayed.
    “Of course I do, you foolish girl. You think I would not
know all the ins and outs of my own home?”
    Feigning ignorance, she shrugged her shoulders. “If you
slept through the intruder’s appearance, then I must have as well.”
    “I find that hard to believe that an intruder would leave
you untouched.”
    “Perhaps the intruder is like you, for you have left me
untouched. Perhaps the intruder has no strength in his sword,” Helena hissed.
    “Get out of my sight, you brazen whore.”
    Helena shook her head but secretly laughed as she took the
stairwell back to her bedchamber. Eratos had really frightened Thelonius.
    Good.
    Thelonius was nothing but a murdering pig and he deserved
everything that was coming to him.
    If only her father could have had a chance for revenge
against her husband after Thelonius had blackmailed him and secured her
father’s vast wealth by marrying her.
    She had every reason to despise Thelonius. He stole her from
her family, brought her to Antioch and then turned the Praetorian Guard against
those she loved. She didn’t even have a chance to properly mourn them. There
was nothing left for her in Rome once Eratos finished with Thelonius. Antioch
was home now.
    * * * * *
    Thelonius opened the shutters and peered out into the silent
garden. “I know he is nearby. I am leaving this house and I will return by
nightfall with more guards. I will find him and root him out—you have my word
on it.”
    She did not respond, what could she say? Helena smiled as
Thelonius stormed from the house, taking all the hired guards with him. She was
glad to be rid of him, even for only a little while.
    Helena sat down on the edge of her sleeping pallet and ran
her hands along the bedding. Picking up one of the pillows, she held it close
and could still smell Eratos’ scent permeating into the fibers of the cloth.
The masculine scent of deep spices and something wild.
    Untamed.
    Her blood heated thinking about Eratos and how their bodies
melded in passion. She pulled off her clothing and lay down on the bedding,
spreading her legs and closing her eyes as she thought of her mighty gladiator
taking her.
    Fire flushed her cheeks as she pictured Eratos entering her
room as she