Chapter Eleven

Enjoy!!

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Esma sat on the corner of the pallet plaiting her hair over and over again, hoping that a servant would come and tell her Blandus didn’t want her tonight. The sun was still high in the sky despite it feeling like hours since she’d been locked away.

Her hands still shook when she thought of the way Blandus had acted towards her, something was wrong and she was going to pay for it. Though she had no idea what she’d even gotten herself in the middle of.

“Dear wife!” a voice laughed from the doorway, pulling Esma from her thoughts with a jolt, Blandus was lounging against the doorframe grinning. “Wife, my wife. Wife of Octavian Blandus, not of Albus Octavius.”

He was drunk, that was clear as day. Esma smiled tightly as he fell onto the pallet beside her and kissed her leg as it was all he could reach.

“I’m going to tell you a really funny story.” He yawned sitting up and grabbing the jug of wine he’d plonked on the floor seconds earlier. “This story is about a boy, the oldest of six the rest all girls. Their names were Octavian, Olivia, Etna, Claudia, Hermina and Juliana.”

Esma smiled a little as he spoke of his siblings, listening to his drunken rambling. “The sister’s loved their brother; he’d do anything for them from reaching to get fruit off a tree, to fighting off our father in one of his drunken rages.

“But then, another son came. He was older, braver, stronger and easier to get along with. But a bastard, he doesn’t deserve what he got, he became the favourite.” He growled chugging back the rest of the red liquid. “So when father died, I took control threw him out of the house. I wanted my family back. Wife, all I wanted was my family back, which he stole from me.”

“Blandus, I’m sure they still love you.” Esma sighed putting a hand over his.

“He wants you and I won’t let him. You’re mine Esma, you’ll bear my children if it’s the last damn thing you do!”

“Blandus, you’re drunk think about this!” she shouted dodging his hands as he made to grab her.

“You’re right, I don’t even find you attractive. I don’t find any female attractive, no wonder my father hated me . . . Leave me alone. Don’t come back, for your own innocence, don’t come back till tomorrow.”

Nodding, Esma grabbed the thick cloak he’d removed upon entering their room and left the building, not stopping until she hit the gate and some roman soldiers, they asked her if she was going out, without a seconds thought she nodded and slipped through the gap the allowed and headed towards the village close by, she needed something familiar.

The sun began to set and Albus made his way back down towards the fort, he’d been so angry with Blandus after the meeting, there was another confrontation which sent Blandus into the wine cellar and Albus into the hills surrounding them with a bow and arrow.

Upon entering the village he noted the silence which was quickly followed by a chorus of childish laughter and squeals.

“There you are; did you bring me anything nice?” His grandmother asked patting his arm affectionately.

“How’s a rabbit and a pheasant?” he asked holding them up for her to inspect.

“You’re very good Albus.” She smiled looping her arm through his, she lead him towards the centre of the village. “Your Esma came over earlier and asked if she could help us in any way.”

“Really?” Albus asked frowning, Blandus was sure to be drunk but what had he said to her?

“Yes, so we gave her the children to look after. They’re forever getting under our feet, she’s very good.”

Albus didn’t say anything; he daren’t as he watched her lift a baby into her arms and span around in a circle as it squealed in delight. She had all the young girls flitting around her like moths to a flame, and all the young boys hanging on her words as she told them stories of her brothers.

“Albus!” one of the older boys shouted, recognising him. “Tell us a story!”

“Why when Lady Blandus is doing a good job herself.” He smirked ignoring the sharp look she sent him.

“But her stories aren’t bloody.” He sighed dramatically as others nodded, “the girls keep hogging her too.”

Albus grinned and looked up over at Esma again, she was watching to see his reaction to the child with a baby in her arms and two young girls weaving flowers into her hair.

“I suppose I can tell you one or two.” He smiled down at the young boy’s who’d crowded around him. “If someone will take my Mama to her kitchen so she can start on my dinner.”

He let out a small laugh as two boys grabbed his grandmother’s hands a third grabbing the prey he’d caught and literally dragged her towards her home.

“Is your husband alive?” he asked hating how bitter he sounded.

“Drunk.” She stated, “Drunk enough to tell me about his childhood.”

Albus’ stomach dropped as she met his eye, he saw no pity for him there just pity for her husband; which irked him something rotten.