blog tour: shadows in the spring by christina courtenay

Calleva Atrebatum, Southern Britannia, early June, AD 80

Duro reached the forum complex, the heart and most important part of any Roman town. This comprised an open square surrounded on three sides by commercial buildings behind a covered portico, with a basilica forming the fourth. The square was used as a marketplace, and some towns also had an indoor one, a macellum. On this particular day, there was some sort of auction going on. He paused briefly to watch. His stomach muscles clenched when he realised the commodity being sold was slaves.

They were being dragged up onto a raised platform, naked and in chains, or with their hands and necks tied with rope.

‘Taranis curse them!’ he hissed under his breath, hoping the Celtic god of thunder would come down and strike the slave traders dead.

He felt bile in his throat as he remembered how it had felt to stand up there, gawked at by strangers and occasionally prodded. He had been a mere child, and not as sought after as a full-grown man, but there had still been some interest in him. The memories were ones he normally tried to suppress, but here they rose to the surface, nearly choking him as the vile sensations came rushing back.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to turn away from the horrible spectacle, but something caught his eye. He watched as a young woman was manhandled up onto the platform, resisting all the way. She was stunningly beautiful, her thigh-length white-blonde hair shining with gold and silver highlights in the sun. Her body was perfectly proportioned, exactly the shape a man would want, but what immediately caught his interest was her proud bearing. The dignity with which she held her head high and the glares she threw at those around her, despite being nude and captive.

‘A Germana,’ he murmured, mesmerised by the sight of her.

She snarled something at the man tugging on her arm. This was not a woman cowed by her predicament. The emotions flickering across her face struck a chord inside Duro and he knew what was running through her mind. He’d been there, in that exact position – powerless and vulnerable, as well as defiant, angry and resentful. Definitely not yet reconciled to the fate of being someone’s slave. Someone’s possession. Judging by her flashing eyes and scowling countenance, she was strong-willed and suffering from a deep sense of injustice. He reckoned it would take years before she accepted her fate, unless she was beaten into submission.

No! He couldn’t bear to think of anyone harming her.

He’d occasionally seen Germanic women in Pompeii – usually slave girls trailing after a mistress – and had always dreamed of marrying one of them. Raedwald had poked fun at his imaginings, but to him those women had seemed like perfection in feminine form. They were known for being fierce and unafraid, as well as stunning, capable and hard-working. What more could a man want?

‘Hold her tight,’ someone ordered, while the Germanic woman continued to struggle as potential buyers came up to squeeze her breasts and backside. She was hissing imprecations and curses in her own language, which was similar enough to his own that he got the gist of it. She was clearly furious as well as embarrassed, and who could blame her?

Duro moved closer to the auction platform, his gaze never leaving the woman. At one point their eyes met and she stilled as if she could sense his empathy. He wanted to shout out encouragement, tell her she was magnificent and that all this would soon be over. But that wasn’t true. The auction was only the first step on the road to degradation, and probably not the worst. As if she had reached the same conclusion, her shoulders slumped and she turned her gaze elsewhere, leaving him feeling bereft.

He should have departed, but he was compelled to find out her eventual fate and couldn’t have left if his life depended on it. His mind was spinning with ideas of helping her. Rescuing her. Buying her, and . . . then what? Logic urged him to let it go. He was on a quest for revenge. He didn’t have time to rescue damsels in distress, no matter how appealing or deserving they might be.

Still, he stayed to watch until a middle-aged Roman man bought her for eight hundred sestertii. She was led away to a waiting cart and Duro was preparing to be on his way at last when he heard the Roman exchange a few final words with the auctioneer.

‘I’ll have her cowed by the end of this evening,’ the man boasted. ‘It’ll be a pleasure taming a woman that headstrong. The more she resists, the better.’

The two men chuckled, obviously in perfect accord, while Duro had to stifle the urge to kill the pair of them on the spot. By Teutatis, he’d like to see how they would fare if the tables were turned.

He came to a decision – he was going to rescue that woman, one way or another. His quest could wait a little while longer.