Avaritus was wrathful when the brutal storm blew the Orpheus back to Portus Tarrus. Just as the storm had begun to settle, Avaritus’ ships had swooped upon them within miles of the shore and reclaimed both Pyp and Olympia as prisoners.
The despair of knowing her daughter was dead because she had impetuously longed for freedom and her son had lost liberty after tasting it for only a few moments tore at Olympia, but looking into Pyp’s brown eyes and seeing Lucretius through them, she drew heart.
At Avaritus’ order, she and Pyp stood and watched as the crew of the Orpheus was flogged. Olympia knew that only their patrician breeding had saved her and Pyp from that fate, but she would have willingly switched places with any of those men. As the braided leather whip peeled strips of skin from the backs of the sailors and merchants, Olympia pressed Pyp’s face into her waist.
She gagged into her hand and then gasped as something inside her squeezed sharply. “No,” she whimpered as another, more painful contraction gripped her. She had three more months before her time, but the force of the pains was unmistakable. She knew the danger. She clenched her jaw, gripping Pyp’s hair with such strength that he yelped.
Olympia clutched her stomach covertly, hoping the touch of her hand could settle the child. “Candelifera, help me,” she murmured, invoking the goddess who guided children from the womb.
Avaritus, who had been enjoying the proceedings, noticed Olympia’s pained contortion. Initially thinking that Olympia’s grimaces were in response to the scourging, he did nothing. When he realized that she convulsed with suspicious regularity, he signaled Flora to investigate. “Look at Olympia. Could it be that she is...suffering from pregnancy complications?” He had not even realized the woman had been carrying Lucretius’ whelp.
Flora shrugged. “I will check. If that is the case, shall I take her to her rooms?”
He nodded.
Olympia started when she felt the woman’s hand on her shoulder. She recognized the fiery-haired woman as sympathetic. “I am to have a child,” she gasped. Pyp stiffened against her. She feared that she would be leaving her son an orphan more deeply than she had feared anything.
With half an eye on the whippings, Avaritus watched Olympia lean heavily on Flora as they returned to the villa. Young Nicetius followed anxiously behind them. Olympia’s death would present Avaritus with an obstacle. When Olympia had informed him that Calista had drowned, it occurred to him that marriage to the mother would still cement a link to Portus Tarrus. With her dead…Avaritus beckoned Panos. “Instruct Flora to do all she can to save Olympia.”
If Panos was surprised by the instruction, he showed no sign although relief tickled his expression.