Wayward Rose

The Sacrificial Princess

Summer, 400 Anno Astrum

1

Sabina sat on the ground beside her canine companion, leaning against the half-wall that ran alongside the road and hid them from sight. She panted, desperately trying to catch her breath. Their pursuers had finally lost them. The shouts still rang through the streets, yelling her name, calling to each other, ordering passers-by to get out of the way. Sabina listened. None of them sounded close. "Well, that could have gone better," she whispered.

Dalibor glared at her sidelong, his long tongue lolling out of his mouth as he too struggled to breathe. At least, Sabina thought it was a glare. She wasn't entirely certain how to read the jackal's expressions. There were vanishingly few of the beast people in Italia, let alone New Rome itself, and her father had never allowed her to spend any meaningful time with any of them. They were dangerous, he insisted, every last one. They existed only to eliminate the few humans that remained in the post-Astral world by killing the men and forcing the women to bear their beastly children. He would not appreciate the irony that the jackal beside her was the only thing keeping her safe.

"We've got to keep moving," Dalibor whispered between gasps for breath. "Do you know a fast way out of the city?"

"I've never left the city," Sabina whispered back. She watched him pull the golden, jewel-encrusted rod she'd taken from her father's study out of his bag. "I don't even know where we are right now."

"What do you mean you don't know where we are?" Dalibor asked. "Don't you live here?"

"I'm the imperial princess," she told him. "It's not like my father lets me wander around outside the estate. You know the city better than I do."

"No, I don't!" Dalibor hissed. "I've been here two days! I'm only visiting to try and sell our ranch's cheese." He rapped the rod against his lumpy sack of cheese, bulging now with the fancy stola she'd forced him to stuff inside it.

Sabina groaned and leaned her head against the wall, still trying to catch her breath. "How'd this go so wrong so fast?" she wondered aloud. "First the guards raised the alarm far too soon. Then there were so many more guards in the city streets than I'd ever expected. And now we're lost. That's three things in barely five minutes, Dalibor. If we keep this rate up, we're never going to get away from the city."

"Why don't you stretch it back to ten minutes and include the fact that I got kidnapped?" Dalibor growled. "And then had to run naked through the streets of New Rome!"

Sabina rolled her eyes. "You're hardly naked," she said. She had made him give her his undyed, plebian tunic as a disguise when she shed her imperial stola, leaving him in just his underwear, and getting to see the jackal run through the streets of New Rome in just his subligar was definitely not going to make her list of things that had gone wrong. He was very fit, and she could watch his black-speckled tail swing while he ran all day. His tail and everything around the flap where it poked out the back of his subligar if she were being honest.

Dalibor grunted but did not press the point. He wasn't wrong, though. Why didn't she stretch the window of time further back? Other things had obviously gone wrong or the two of them wouldn't be huddled behind a wall on a side street in New Rome. They wouldn't even have met. Which would definitely be a wrong thing itself, even if it only happened because other things had gone even more wrong.

The day had started out so promising. Her father was finally letting her leave New Rome to make a pilgrimage to the High Temple of the Star in Cibalae. She had stared out the door to her balcony, leaning against the doorframe and trying to contain her excitement. From the top floor of the imperial villa, which sat on one of the hills of New Rome, built itself on the ruins of pre-Astral Rome, she had a nearly unobstructed view of the bustling streets and marble buildings of the city. She wondered what the city had looked like before the Fall of the Star centuries earlier had burned the planet, razing cities, sinking continents, and decimating the population. The seat of the great Caesar Augustus's fledgling empire must have been remarkable, even without the ever-present bands of the Astral Remnants that now split the sky above.

But it wasn't the ancient city that she wanted to see, much less the current one. She wanted to see the waves of the Internal Sea. The mountains of Aquitania. The forests of Illyricum. The deserts of Aegyptus. Anything other than the city which she had never been allowed to leave, surrounded by people she couldn't escape, watched by eyes that never blinked. A city that cared less about her than about her fancy, flowing stolas. Like today's, an ostentatiously adorned getup whose eye-bending white made her braided hair look even blacker than usual and her unblemished skin appear a darker shade of olive than she was comfortable with. An empire whose only interest in Princess Sabina Augusta Poplicola was whose children she would have, how many, and when. And it would be soon. She'd turned eighteen earlier this year, so her father was unlikely to allow her to remain unwed much longer.

Thinking of her father seemed to summon him. He strode across the courtyard below, wearing his richest purple toga over his tunic, the one embroidered with fanciful designs in thread of pure gold. On his head was the golden laurel crown of the triumphant, wrapped tight around his graying temples. With him was Gallius Fasciatus, the leader of the Enforcers who would be her escort to Cibalae. Sabina liked Gallius, and not only because the green-trimmed hamata and leather skirt that were the hallmarks of the warlords of the Verdant Blade looked immensely fetching on him. Though it certainly didn't hurt.

Today, though, his presence with her father set her skin crawling. She rushed to the edge of the balcony and leaned over the marble parapet, trying to hear them. "Have you word from the wolf hunt?" her father asked, barely audible from below.

"The messengers report that the culling goes quite well," Gallius replied, his voice growing fainter as they walked away. "Your people remain very safe from the lupine threat, my Emperor."

And then they passed from hearing. Her chest felt like it was on fire. Something in her heart—or perhaps beside her heart, a warmth behind her ribs and between her breasts—whispered wordlessly at her yet again. She had gotten quite good at ignoring whatever it was most days, but today it was insistent. At least it was bright out. In the dark of night, she would swear that she could sometimes see a dim golden glow within her chest pulsing in time with her heart and illuminating each of her ribs from within. She told herself it was her heart. Her heart just glowed and whispered sometimes. Didn't everybody's?

But even without her heart's unintelligible insistence, she knew she had to hear what her father and Gallius were saying. Not about the wolves. It seemed excessive to send the Legion out to protect a few farmers from wolves. There were always wolves in the hills of Italia, and the people who lived there knew how to protect themselves. No. They were going to talk about her. Why else would they be meeting this morning? Maybe she could get some idea about why her father thought it so important for her to make this pilgrimage.

Not that she cared. She wanted to go, after all. But she had to know.

She stormed to the door leading out of her room and threw it open. The young boy standing beside her door leaped in surprise, throwing his toga askew. "Attend me. I need some air," she commanded, and rushed down the hall. The page scrambled to follow her. He knew better than to disobey, just as Sabina knew better than to wander the halls unattended. Her father had made that quite clear. Who knew what might happen to a princess when she was alone. In the halls of her own home. Which was surrounded by an entire contingent of guards.

They soon exited the villa into the public forum at the front of the grounds. The open courtyard, surrounded by columns and arches, was filled with topiaries, fountains, and statuary to show off the wealth of her family. Since it was Market Day, the plaza was packed with merchants and marketers who wanted to grab the attention of the rich and the powerful of the Empire. It offered the perfect cover to slip away.

Sabina knew she did not have much time. She knew how to eavesdrop on the study her father and Gallius were heading to, but they would get there well before her, and she did not know how much longer she had before she missed them. First, though, she needed to replace the page with somebody she could trust not to report her actions while still giving her the cover of not being alone. She scanned the crowd, trying desperately to find a replacement before the page got suspicious, and soon spotted exactly the sort of person she was looking for.

A lone jackal tried desperately to draw anybody's attention to a large sack of cheeses, but everybody walked by him without as much as a glance. Sabina was struck by how soft his fur looked. His tunic and sandals were undyed and unremarkable, but his fur was enchanting: snowy white under his chin and down his neck, sandy gray along his arms and legs, and shifting black speckling in his adorably fluffy tail. She desperately wanted to rub his belly the way she did with her father's dogs. She wondered if he'd enjoy it as much as they did. She didn't even care how out-of-place a Sabwa would look wandering around behind the villa. He was exotic and beautiful and everything she wasn't allowed to have. It had to be him.

"Boy," she said to the page. "Your toga is dirty. Give it to me and go fetch a clean one."

"It's not that bad," the boy insisted, inspecting his clothes. "And I'll get in trouble if I go inside without it."

"Paullus," Sabina said. "I know full well that this will not be the first time you've lost your toga. I also know your mother works in the laundry and will replace it for you without issue."

"She'll yell at me, though," Paullus grumbled. "And shouldn't I take it with me?"

"She'll yell even more if I tell her you disobeyed the princess," Sabina said. "Now give it here and get moving."

Paullus grumbled under his breath, but he unwrapped his toga and handed it to Sabina before scurrying into the villa. As soon as the boy was out of sight, Sabina strode towards her mark. "You!" she called, pointing at the jackal. "Attend me."

"Me?" he asked, his tail curling into an arc behind him. A single, crooked fang kept his lip from closing entirely, showing off a row of pointy teeth. Sabina thought the jackal's half-sneer was the most precious thing she'd ever seen, enough to set butterflies loose in her stomach, but she refused to let it show.

"Yes," she said. "I require an escort, and you appear unoccupied."

"I'm actually trying to find a trading partner for my ranch's cheese," he said. He held a small wheel out to her. "We're Dalibor's Dairyworks. Maybe you've heard of us?"

"I'll take it up with my father. The emperor," Sabina said, adjusting her tiara. The jackal jerked as if struck. She handed him Paullus's toga. "Now put this on and come. I'm in a hurry."

"Why do I have to wear this?" the jackal asked. "I'm not a little boy."

Sabina wondered briefly how old he actually was. She had no way to judge the age of the beast people. Did they go gray like humans did? "It'll mark you as someone allowed to be around the villa," she said.

The jackal cocked his head. "You really think a poorly fitting toga is going to convince anybody that a Sabwa is allowed inside there?"

"I think I don't have time for this," Sabina said. "Do you want our business or not?"

The jackal bared his fangs, but he draped the toga over his shoulder, shoved the cheese wheel back into his bag, and tossed the whole sack onto his back. Sabina nodded and guided him around the far side of the villa. The guards saw her, of course, but they knew she could go where she pleased so long as she was attended. They would talk, though, and the jackal wasn't wrong that her father would never let any of the beast people this close to the villa, toga or no. Sabina just hoped the makeshift disguise would buy her enough time to hear whatever her father and Gallius were planning before the guards sent somebody to check on her.

Soon she and the jackal were out of sight between the back side of the villa and the estate's outer wall. She counted windows from the corner to determine which was her father's study and prayed to all the gods that he and Gallius would be in there. As they approached, she crouched down and gestured for the jackal to do the same.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" he whispered.

Sabina shushed him as they reached the edge of the terrace outside the study. "I hear them," she said. "Keep your head down."

"…reached the temple in Cibalae," her father was saying, "you'll receive new instructions from the prophet there. You will treat his word as my own, understood?"

"Yes, Emperor," Gallius responded. "Do you have a notion of what those orders might be? Just to make sure he doesn't try to trick us into something you wouldn't approve of."

"I do," Emperor Augustus said. "They will likely need assistance in preparing Sabina's body for transport across the Sunken Sea and into Sarmatia."

Sabina and the jackal blinked at each other. Sabina felt the blood rush from her face, and the jackal's ears flattened against his head. Had her father said body?

"Her body, my Emperor?" Gallius asked.

"Indeed," her father said dispassionately. "Sabina's to be offered to the Star. I don't know if the relic will do it on its own or if you'll have to assist with that as well. Just do whatever the prophet asks. For the good of the Empire and the future of humanity."

"Yes, my Emperor," Gallius said without hesitation. "Your divine will be done."

Sabina's jackal companion opened his mouth, and, terrified that he was about to scream, Sabina clamped her hand around his muzzle to keep it shut. She shook her head at him, eyes still wide. He had the most amazing amber eyes, her brain noted idly through her terror. They froze there and waited, barely breathing, until they heard Gallius and her father leaving the room. After another moment, Sabina peeked her head above the terrace. The study was empty.

Sabina leaned against the wall of the villa and tried desperately to slow the racing of her heart. Her father—her own father!—was planning to have her killed. She couldn't understand why. Had she done something wrong? Or had he known all along? Known the whole time that his only child was to be a sacrifice to the Star? For the good of the Empire. Her heart sang in her chest.

The cheese merchant looked around wildly. "I have to get out here," he muttered.

Sabina grabbed his hand. "You can't leave me here!" she told him.

He tried to pull away from her. "Oh, I absolutely can," he said. "They're going to kill me if they find me here."

"They're going to do the same to me!" Sabina said. "You have to help me escape!"

"You're the princess!" the jackal said. "You want me to kidnap the New Roman princess?"

"Yes," Sabina said. "That is exactly what I want."

"No," said the jackal, shaking his head and yanking his hand from her grasp. "No way."

"Please," Sabina begged. "I don't want to die!"

The jackal turned away but did not leave. He clenched his fists. "Find a guard to help you," he said.

"They answer to my father, not me," Sabina told him. "They'll just hand me over and tell him that I said he's going to kill me."

"Son of the Sun preserve me," the jackal growled. "I hate this." He dropped his sack and turned back to face her. "Is there a back way out of here? Nobody's going to let the princess of New Rome leave the estate."

Sabina squeezed her cheeks with her hands and tried to think. "I need a disguise," she said. "We can leave through the front gate if they don't recognize me." She looked over the jackal. "What's your name?"

"Dalibor," he replied. "Dalibor of Mtskheta."

Sabina raised an eyebrow. "Dalibor? Of the dairyworks?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, somewhat uncertainly. "I run it with my father. You've heard of us?"

She shook her head. "Not before you mentioned it earlier," she said, and Dalibor deflated. "But it's nice to meet you, Dalibor. My name is Sabina. Now give me your tunic."

"What?" he squeaked, perking straight back up.

"Nobody's going to notice a Sabwa in his subligar leaving with a woman in a plebian's tunic. They'll think you're my servant," she told him. She took off her tiara and unbelted her stola. "We can't leave this here or they'll find it and know something's wrong. Is there room in your sack for it?"

He considered her stola. "That looks very expensive," he said. "Are you sure you want to shove it in a bag full of goat cheese?"

She glared at him. "I'm sure I want to live," she hissed. She shoved her tiara into his hands. "Now help me get out of this stola."

The skin inside Dalibor's ears turned a deeper shade of pink once she was in her underwear. He looked away, took a deep breath, then unbelted and removed his tunic. Sabina tried not to stare when she took the tunic from him. He looked so soft, and the white under his chin went all the way down his front and under his subligar. She was surprised to see him wearing the Italian-style loincloth, its long strings and loose flaps all snugly tied and properly tucked. She didn't know why this surprised her or what she'd been expecting. That he, a beast, wouldn't know how to properly tie a subligar? That he'd be wearing something Aegyptian, since the jackals all came from Aegyptus, though she didn't know what Aegyptian underwear would look like? That'd he'd be wearing nothing underneath at all? She realized she was staring after all when Dalibor's ears folded back, so she turned away to get dressed and hide the burning in her cheeks.

Once she had his tunic on and belted, she hopped up onto the terrace and slipped into her father's study. "What are you doing?" Dalibor hissed.

"Looking for weapons," Sabina told him. She swiped a small knife her father used as a seal breaker from his desk. Then she eyed a heavy ceremonial rod, crafted from far too much gold and an obscene number of gems, mounted on the wall. "Can you fight with a rod?"

Dalibor peeked into the study while he struggled to shove Paullus's toga and her stola into his sack. "That seems unwieldy, but yes," he said. "I can make that work."

Sabina tucked her knife into the belt of the tunic and pulled the rod from the wall. "Shove it in the sack for now," she said. "We'll never get away if the guards think we have weapons. Especially one as fancy as this."

"Who goes there?" called a rough voice.

"Shit," Dalibor swore, head snapping towards the direction they'd come.

"Don't let him sound an alarm!" Sabina called.

"Follow my lead," Dalibor said. He flourished his rod with an unsteady hand. "Gods, this thing is heavy," he muttered as he charged towards the guard. Sabina rushed behind him, pulling her knife back out.

Her sudden appearance was enough to put the guard off-balance. "Princess Augusta?" he asked.

Dalibor was upon the guard before the man had managed to get over the shock of seeing his princess charging at him with a knife from behind an alarmingly hostile jackal. He barely had time to bring his javelin to bear before Dalibor was within his reach, knocking aside the weapon. Sabina spotted the opening Dalibor had created for her as soon as he did it. She rushed in behind him and, just as her instructors had taught her, slashed at the straps of the guard's armor before darting away. Her strike was clumsy, but she had still cut through the shoulder of the man's jerkin, tying up his sword arm long enough for Dalibor to come in behind him unthreatened and club him over the head with the massive rod.

"Good teamwork," Sabina said once the guard had collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

"Princess Augusta!" Dalibor spat, his tail curled behind him.

"Uh oh," she said, straightening up. "Am I in trouble?"

"I recognize that fighting style!" Dalibor said. "Why does the imperial princess know the arts of the Sanguine Song?"

Sabina felt her cheeks begin to flush yet again. She did not care for the thought of this attractive stranger knowing what it was she actually did during her secret training sessions with the Sanguine Song veterans. Or how little she was allowed to wear during them. "I was never going to be a soldier, Dalibor," she told him. "But knowing how to incapacitate a naked assaulter or use sex itself as a weapon is useful for a woman in my position."

"I guess that makes sense," Dalibor said, kicking gently at the unconscious guard. "But maybe you should choose an alternative style rather than pursue their more advanced arts?"

Sabina narrowed her eyes. "You're not the only one who recognizes the other's fighting style," she said. "I saw how you tore open that man's guard. What do you know about the Sanguine Song's advanced arts when you're obviously trained by the Verdant Blade?"

Dalibor made a face that looked like he was trying to swallow an entire citron then turned away. "Give me my tunic back," he growled, which jerked her violently from her reverie. He hadn't said that at the time. But now, huddled behind a half wall where they had both finally stopped panting, his ears were folded back again, and Sabina realized that the entire time she'd been reliving the day, she'd been staring at his fluffy, white belly. And maybe a bit lower. "It's your turn to run around in your underwear," he added.

Sabina drew herself up. "How dare you?" she huffed. "I am the daughter of Emperor Augustus Poplicolus, and I will not be spoken to like that!"

"They're here!" a guard shouted over the top of the low wall behind them. Dalibor clubbed him in the face with the rod, and the two of them sprinted off once again.

"You forgot the sack!" Sabina shouted.

"I'm done lugging around twenty libras of cheese!" Dalibor shouted back.

"But my stola!" Sabina wailed. "And my jewels!"

"If you want them so bad, go back and get them yourself!" Dalibor retorted. Of course, she did not go back, which Sabina counted as the fourth thing that had gone wrong. She could only hope, as she watched Dalibor's tail swing as he sprinted between buildings in front of her, that things would get better from here.