Guardian of Rome (#2 in Gladiator Series)

Bonus Chapter - Frieda and Leonidas

Bonus Chapter – Frieda and Leonidas

Oceanus Britannicus

The shores of Britannica loomed large and magnificent in the distance. Through the fine spray of sea air Diomed calculated that they would be upon those gleaming shores within the day which, after weeks of travelling through Rome, Germania, the Rhine and Gallia, Diomed and Frieda had finally reached their destination.

It had been a tempestuous journey of secrecy and even with the parchments in their grasp that declared their freedom, neither Diomed nor Frieda trusted the guards enough to paid heed to such an object so they journeyed further until the ports became less fortified and the only question put to them was the one of payment. Their motives and pasts were allowed to remain hidden. 

However, upon breaking port and entering onto the Oceanus Altanticus Diomed saw a swift change in Frieda's demeanour. Her boisterous behaviour had subsided, her hunger waned and she locked herself away below deck for the better part of each day. She only surfaced with the setting of the sun to reacquaint herself with the world and even then her footing trembled and her fingers clasped her sword, more for reassurance than fear.
Even now, as he gazed out across the rolling waves, towards the outline of the cliffs, Diomed could sense Frieda's inner quarrels. He sensed the bond between Frieda and Krista, their pasts so similar it was hard for them not to become entwined, however they had now parted ways. Krista had placed her past to rest whilst Frieda's still remained to be conquered.

The ship dipped below him, lurching his body forward slightly, before they were just as quickly lifted up once more on a sharp wave. Turning from past thoughts, Diomed clasped the water skin in his fingers and disappeared below deck, his eyes immediately adjusting to the low light as he unsteadily progressed down the steps and through the lower deck.

The ship swayed from side to side but after so long at sea, and surviving many a storm, Diomed had gained his 'sea legs'. Frieda was reluctant to gain anything other than dehydration as she squirrelled herself away in the corner, nothing but warm memories to keep her company and Diomed feared they were few and far in between. 

"Here," Diomed rapped a single knuckle against the beam of wood on which her hammock hung to announce his arrival. A single eyelid lifted and glared up at him.
"Drink," Diomed held out the water skin, filled with fresh water.

Another eyelid opened and a deep sigh broke forth from her lips before she sat up and took the water skin from his fingers. Waiting for her to take a few sips, Diomed perched himself upon a small crate behind him and regarded Frieda in the low candlelight. The ship gave another sharp dip and Frieda flinched as if something had stabbed her in the gut. She took another quick swig, imaging that it was something stronger, before she clasped the lid shut and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

"Frieda?" Diomed called her name but she didn't respond.

Frieda had heard nothing but his voice for weeks and she wished to escape it. But if she was honest with her herself, Frieda did not want to escape Diomed, she wanted to escape the ship and swim back to Gallia. She had not been aboard a vessel since she was sold to pirates at the tender young age of eight and since that journey had ended Frieda had stayed fervently upon land. Too scared to walk on a deck, Frieda locked herself away in her memories, praying for the quick arrival of land, rock and stone. But her memories only provided a small measure of comfort, the pleasant ones greatly outnumbered by years of pain that were too quick to rise to the surface the closer they got to Britannica.

"We shall be arriving in Britannica by the end of day," Diomed told her softly, warning her.

Frieda took a breath to steady herself, once they exited this ship Diomed would be looking to her to guide. A native of Italia, Diomed depended upon Frieda's knowledge of the country and yet Frieda could only remember a few passages around her village. Taken from such a young age, Frieda's memory of Britannica could barely rival the memory of a brief traveller that had walked its plains for a day. The truth was Frieda felt more at home in Rome than she did in her own motherland, but she had to place all of this aside if she was to find her sister. The odds were stacked against her and yet Frieda had to prevail. The odds had been stacked against her her entire life and yet here she was.