Chapter 4: Aislinn's God

The next morning, Aislinn was woken by the glare of the sun. She jumped out of bed and ran to the window to see what was going on outside. Three guards stood before a firing squad. She gulped. Claude came up behind her.

"Pity. They upset Caesar by not telling him about a prisoner escaping. That always means death." he explained. Aislinn felt her heart pounding in rage and desperation. She had seen one of those guards just yesterday with his wife and three children outside her farthest window. He had so much to live for. Commodus was hesitating, talking with Quintus. She grabbed a cloak and ran out the door, past the guards that kept her door off-limits, and into the courtyard. She skidded to a halt on her knees in front of the emperor.

"Highness, no! You can't!" she yelled. He turned, enraged and hit her again. She fell to the side, crying aloud for the pain she now felt. She would have a massive bruise if she was lucky. "Please, Caesar! These men have families! What could they possibly have done to deserve death?"

"They defied me! I gave an order in Germania to slay Maximus the deserter! The man who killed my father! They told me they had pursued him, but they didn't tell me he survived!" Commodus raged.

"Did they tell you that he was dead?" she asked.

He raised his hand to strike her again, but stopped. Aislinn cringed. He looked down harshly at her then through gritted teeth cursed her and replied, "No."

"Then perhaps they didn't tell you of his escape to afford a few more days with their loved ones," she reasoned.

"Then they've had what they wanted," he said coldly. He looked down at her completely puzzled. "Why do you care? What does their existence mean to you? You are a Celt, born to defy Rome. A Christian, chosen to destroy Rome. Why do you beg for the lives of traitorous soldiers and pray your God for comfort for their emperor?"

"Because God affords all men life and comfort. Who are you to deny them either?" she said. Before he could scream the answer at her he flew right up to her face as she said. "The same was afforded to you, but not the same freedoms."

He stared at her in disbelief, as if she'd lay herself completely vulnerable before him while he was also vulnerable. He raised his brow inquisitively. "What?"

"You bear an empire. They bear their families. Your family is substantially larger. I cannot imagine how difficult each day is for you," she said in a tone that was deliberately so low that only he could hear her. For a second, he reached out to instinctively embrace her. She had just shown him kindness, true kindness. No one in Rome did that for him save his sister and nephew. Before he touched her, he drew his arms back and held back tears. He stood and looked at Quintus.

"Quintus, I am nothing if not a merciful father to my people. Would you agree?" he asked.

"Of course, Caesar," Quintus replied clenching his fist over his heart to his ruler.

"Then what kind of father would punish a man for his brother's sin? Maximus should die, not these men. These men are loyal to the empire. Think carefully before you bring an execution before me next time, Quintus," Commodus said and turned back to Aislinn. She looked at him with admiration, but the skin on her face was raised and bright red in the shape of his large hand. He felt guilt twist in him thinking that this girl who was showing him kindness was doing so after being wronged by him. He grabbed her by the arm and forced her to follow him after ordering the guards freed and sent home. The others were to disperse and go back to their posts. He walked with Aislinn into the outer room that connected to his chamber. He called for Lucilla.

Lucilla came quickly, getting her first look at both a Celt and a Christian at the same time. A duet of trouble for the empire, and she was sitting in the palace. Lucilla looked uneasily at her brother. Her son was in the next room. This girl was dangerous and her brother didn't have any measure of protection around her. She bowed.

"Sister, tend to this," he said motioning to the mark on her face. Lucilla knew in an instant the gist of what had happened. Aislinn had displeased him somehow, he had slapped her, and then he had felt guilty for doing so. But why would he feel so guilty that he would afford her the comfort of being treated by his sister? She shook the question away and concocted a salve of witch hazel and valerian infused with cat mint. She added it to some oil and went to apply it to her face. Her brother stopped her. She handed the bowl to Aislinn and nodded to him before leaving quickly. She had to go and make sure Lucius was safe. After she was long gone, he knelt and jerked Aislinn towards him. He was being rough with her to make a point, she knew this. He took one of the cloths lying near the table and dipped it in the slave, then applied it to the wound. Aislinn winced and breathed sharply. Her eyes were reddened from crying momentarily after he had hit her. "There. Now you won't have an excuse to keep away from practice in the morning," he said, justifying his impromptu kindness towards her.

She turned her head and looked into his eyes. He stared back. In his eyes, she saw a terrified little boy. He was standing at the steps on his first day of tutoring, screaming for his daddy because he was scared. He looked into hers deeply. He saw strange things. Strength in mercy, wisdom in gentleness, skill in peace. These words never existed side by side anywhere, least of all among the Celts. Or at least, that was his understanding of the highland peoples. She reached up and took his hand. He stopped for a moment and breathed deeply. She was sensing his weakness. She removed her hand quickly and turned away. "Thank you, Caesar," she said simply.

"Why do you serve a God like the Christian's Jehovah? I thought the Celts were a warrior race unto themselves? Why settle into a faith that would force you to serve a foreign king?" he asked with true curiosity.

"God didn't send us the favour of Christ so that we could conquer nations, but instead so he could redeem them. We are his children, and he loves us all. He never intended anyone to murder on his behalf or rise against their home for him. He wants us to have the same love for each other that he has already shown," she explained carefully.

He shook his head. None of this made sense. He would have to hear more about this when his spirits improved. Perhaps in a lighter mood, their stories and her explanations would prove most amusing. He stood and lifted her by the arm, but more gently this time. He grasped her face carefully and turned it, looking at the wound. It was calming. He handed her the bowl.

"Go back to your quarters and apply this if the wound feels hot," he instructed. He motioned for her to go. She bowed and turned, waiting for one of the guards to accompany her. Two of them joined her and walked back to her room. Commodus sat down at his desk, trying to breathe a little more calmly. She was vexing, this girl. Infuriating the one moment, then tender and amiable the next. He shook his head, trying to free himself of the thought of her. His father had warned him well about women. Commodus paced back and forth as he remembered the words of his father. "Someday, you will find a woman that will vex your soul night and day, and you will be glad of it," Marcus had said. The young emperor was beginning to see the truth in the old man's words. Aislinn infuriated him and sent him into deep fits of rage, but how he loved it all. Commodus wandered if true love might ever happen to him. He was emperor and in the middle of many enormous changes in Rome. He was feeling desperate for companionship. At least the girl was a momentary distraction from the evils of the empire.