Celts and the Gladiator: A historical fantasy trilogy (The Deathless Chronicle II) by P.C. Darkcliff

Author:P.C. Darkcliff [Darkcliff, P.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: P.C. DARKCLIFF
Published: 2021-07-12T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

When she had heard the voices outside, Arvasia sprang up from Junia, crept toward the balcony, and carefully peeked out. Black figures moved around the garden to surround Rufio’s villa. It had to be Nero’s soldiers.

Junia sat and moaned, holding a hand to her throat. She craned her head toward the balcony door, and her eyes shone with hope in the candlelight. When she moved to get up, Arvasia leaped back to her, grabbed her by the hair, and pressed the comb’s point against a large vein on her neck.

“Nero’s men are brutes, rapists, and murderers just like their master,” Arvasia hissed. She could be tortured for speaking like that, but what did she have to lose? She wasn’t even sure if she was telling the truth, but she hoped to scare Junia into silence. It was better than killing her, knocking her out, or binding and gagging her.

Downstairs, powerful fists fell on the front door. “Open up for the Praetorian Guard!” a rough voice boomed. “In the name of the emperor!”

“If I were you, I would hide and shut up,” Arvasia said. “Do you understand?”

Junia nodded. Then she screamed for help.

Arvasia dropped the comb, grabbed Junia’s head, and slammed her knee into the girl’s face.

Fresh blood gushed out of Junia’s nostrils, and her eyes glazed. Her shout turned into a moan.

Voices came from downstairs as the soldiers got in. A male servant demanded to know what was happening. A soldier shouted at him to get out of the way.

Junia struggled and opened her mouth to scream again. Arvasia clasped her hand over her mouth and dragged her to the balcony door. She’d got an idea how to save herself from Nero’s clutches. But for that, she had to kill Junia.

As Junia scrambled to her feet and tried to fight back, Arvasia banged the girl’s head against the doorframe. Junia swayed and moaned, her head lolling. Arvasia pressed her against the railing. A quick look told her that nobody was in the garden. White marble slabs of the porch shone in the moonlight below them.

The railing only reached Junia’s waist, and Arvasia pressed against the girl’s back, making her upper body hung over the railing as if she were looking out for someone. Junia realized what Arvasia wanted to do, and she screamed and tried to turn around. Arvasia punched her behind the ear, and Junia uttered a stunned groan.

A child shrieked downstairs, and Arvasia guessed the soldiers had burst into the hall where the servants slept. Soon they would storm upstairs.

Arvasia crouched and hugged Junia’s legs. Groaning with exertion, she stood, lifted the girl, and shoved her over the railing.

Junia screamed as she plummeted. The scream ended as her body hit the hard marble with a terrible thud. Her dark outline stood out against the white porch. She lay on her side and didn’t move, and Arvasia stared at her in horror. She knew the girl was only acting on her uncle’s orders, and that she didn’t deserve this.

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