Domna: Part Two The Solon's Son: Domna (A Serialized Novel of Osteria), #2

By Tammie Painter

When your destiny has been stolen, it's up to you to make a new one. But first you have to survive the marriage you've been forced into.

 

Having been warned by her guard, Macrinus, that her life depends on being faithful to her new husband, Sofia Domna enters the grand city-state of Vancuse to begin her arranged marriage to Sirius Verus. But when she discovers her former lover serves in her new household, Sofia's resolve is tested at every turn.

 

When she becomes pregnant, Sofia's fidelity is immediately questioned even as Sirius's secrets unravel. Secrets that will turn Sofia's world on its head.

 

With a backdrop of political and marital instability, and Sirius's once-great status quickly on the decline, can Sofia withstand threats, shame, and temptation to guide her husband to the highest role in the realm?

 

Set in the Greco-Roman world introduced in the Osteria Chronicles, Domna is a six-part serialized novel that tells the story of Sofia Domna, a woman whose destiny abruptly changes when she reprimands the wrong man.

 

As Sofia's life moves through the trials of a forced marriage, motherhood, and yearning temptation, she learns that destiny isn't given; it's made by cunning, endurance, and, at times, bloodshed.

 

If you like the political intrigue, adventure, and love triangles of historical fiction by Philippa Gregory and Bernard Cornwell, and the mythological world-building of fantasy fiction by Madeline Miller and Simon Scarrow, you'll love Domna.

 

Grab your copy of Domna, Part Two: The Solon's Son to continue this epic tale of fidelity, intrigue, and deception today.

 

Domna is a six-part serialized novel. The titles include:

• Part One: The Sun God's Daughter
• Part Two: The Solon's Son
• Part Three: The Centaur's Gamble
• Part Four: The Regent's Edict
• Part Five: The Forgotten Heir
• Part Six: The Solon's Wife

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tammie Painter
• Release date: May 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386982685

Tammie Painter

Short Version:  I turn wickedly strong tea into historical fantasy fiction in which the gods, heroes, and myths of Ancient Greece come to life as you've never seen them before. When I'm not creating worlds or killing off characters, I wrangle honeybees to add a little adventure into my non-writing life.  Long Version:  Tammie Painter grew up in the creative world of Portland, Oregon, and she continues to call the City of Roses home. Although she spent years working as a chemist in a behavioral neuroscience research lab, she could never quite tame her passion for writing. Tammie has a knack for delving into and bringing life to history and mythology in her novels. Her fascination for myths, history, and how they interweave inspired the Osteria Chronicles series.  The current titles in the six-book series include *The Trials of Hercules *The Voyage *The Maze *The Bonds of Osteria (coming soon) When she isn't (but probably should be) writing, Tammie can be found digging in her garden, planning her next travel adventure, creating art, or persuading her hive of backyard bees to share some of their honey with her. Find out more about Tammie on her website at TammiePainter.com

Book preview

DOMNA

PART TWO:

THE SOLON’S SON

A SERIALIZED NOVEL OF OSTERIA

BY

TAMMIE PAINTER

CHAPTER ONE

The Arrival

I WON'T RIDE in the litter, I told my escort.

Domna, you said you would, one of them said, having adopted Macrinus’s habit of calling me by my formal patrine title while missing all of Macrinus’s ironic way of using it.

I never promised anything. I won't be seen as some lazy woman being carted about. Sirius has already had one weak wife.

The guards, many of whom were at least twice my size, shuffled on their feet, unsure of how to respond. Macrinus stepped in.

"What Domna means to say is, Sirius will want to see his new bride. After all, who are we to lock away her beauty behind curtains and shades? He hasn't seen her for over a year and will be anxious to set eyes on her. She understands this. How can you not?" The men mumbled to each other in their heavy northern accents. Many pulled disapproving faces, but more shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads until one finally stepped forward and reluctantly murmured the group’s assent.

When they left to continue the preparations for our journey from Surria to Vancuse City, Macrinus tugged me aside. You insult them by not allowing them to carry you in the litter.

I’m not a gift for you to present to Sirius. He balked at my harsh retort. I thought you understood, I said more gently. I want to ride in with my head held high, as an equal to my husband. Would he hide away in a box to be presented by a team of hulking men? I have given up love and position for Sirius Verus and will not be relegated to the role of ‘little wife’ before the marriage cloth is even wound around my hand.

Macrinus’s eyes glinted as the corners of his lips turned up in a knowing grin. I pity Sirius for how little time he spent with you before proposing. He clearly doesn’t realize what he’s gotten himself into.

He wanted a woman the gods said would make him great. That woman isn’t going to be hauled about like a crate of potatoes.

Despite the grumbles from my guards, at midday I entered Vancuse City sitting tall on a chestnut mare. I didn't care if Sirius saw me or not, but I did want a chance to look over the city as I entered it – and I have to admit I wanted to show off a bit.

Saltia had lined my lids with an eggplant-colored pencil to bring out the green flecks in my amber eyes and, while a few strands hung teasingly down the back, she had wrapped the rest of my black hair around my head creating the appearance of a crown. Woven into my hair was a wide ribbon of seed pearls held together by a mesh of gold that enhanced the crown effect. I chose a white tunic draped with a cape of deep red. I had little hope of Sirius ever becoming more than a magistrate, but I looked like a queen.

I was impressed by my new city. I expected a rough network of tents for soldiers, maybe a few quickly constructed houses for the commanders. But this image was the Vancuse of decades ago when Osteria first set up an outpost of legions here. Now, a fully fledged town had arisen in abundant glory. Built on a promontory and surrounded by water on three sides, the city sat like a jewel backed by an expanse of forest and gentle hills.

In the heart of the city, streets ran in a grid formation, a holdover from the orderly arrangement of army tents that were once the only dwellings here. This formality did nothing to detract from the beauty of the city and instead served as a foil for the fanciful architecture and the pockets of color from flower boxes and gardens that filled every corner.

As we made our way to the center of town, we passed by an agora where vendors lined up to sell their wares and a forum where lawyers pleaded their clients' cases. A couple of men jokingly jeered at Macrinus and he retorted with good-humored insults. Narrow wooden houses and shops lined the streets, and temples stood proudly at the edges of town as if the gods oversaw it all. People craned their heads to watch our procession. I had no idea if they knew who I was or why I was here, but they greeted me with admiring smiles and a few cheered. I realized then I didn't know something rather important about Sirius and signaled Macrinus to come to my side.

Are you certain you want me near you? I might detract from your glory.

I’ll take my chances. I’m wondering what Sirius does here exactly. He always writes about Portacean politics and Osterian gossip, but what is he?

Here he's a fiscal procurator to the governor, sort of like a treasurer. It's one of the better magisterial positions. Other magistrates come to him with budgets for projects and he stirs up a way to make those projects cheaper and get them done in a timely manner. How he nabbed this post when, in Orkos, he had moved down the ranks to secretary to the sanitary magistrate is beyond me, but Sirius does seem to have luck at the strangest times.

The ranking system for the climb up the Osterian ladder of success was two-fold: political or military. The aim was to make one’s way through the ranks to become one of the many Osterian Consuls or, better yet, one of the two more influential Solonian Consuls, men meant to advise the Solon and keep him in check.

While maneuvering through either of these routes, if you made a backward slide, it was nearly impossible to recover, gain a new foothold, and continue climbing. That he had done just that made me wonder what influence Sirius had in this complicated game.

And where does he live? I keep expecting him to run out and greet me from one of these houses.

Macrinus grinned in the way he had that made me feel as if I was being made fun of and party to a secret joke at the same time. See that huge house on the hill? I followed his gaze to a gleaming building, almost a palace. My eyes widened. Macrinus must have been waiting for this surprised expression. Don’t get too excited. That’s the governor’s mansion. Yours is the one next to it.

The house adjacent to the palatial building was less than a quarter the size of the governor’s mansion, but was still far larger than the home I’d grown up in, a house considered quite grand by Bendrian standards. We continued to the base of the hill where a retinue of men waited. In the center was Sirius Verus with his rich, dark skin, trim beard, and tightly curled hair.

Behind him, his harsh eyes fixed on me, stood the Hawk. Regardless of his presence, I flicked my gaze casually over the crowd. As if guided like a compass needle, my eyes found Papinias in only two heartbeats. He was smiling up at me, but I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on him or even acknowledge him. Although I could have stared at Papi all day and my heart was hammering just from being near him again, I forced myself to continue scanning the crowd as if taking in all the faces, rather than any particular one.

I brought my horse up to Sirius. He lifted me down, but didn't hold me tightly or try to take me in his arms. Still, I was close enough to see he had aged slightly. Certainly he was old when I met him, but now I could see dapples of grey in his beard and thought to myself he would look younger if he shaved. But smooth cheeks and chins were the fashion of younger men like Macrinus and Papinias, not old men like my fiancé. I reached into a pocket of my cloak and pulled out the figurine.

I believe you left this in Bendria.

Sirius, who had been staring at me sternly, almost scornfully, now burst out with a bellow of genuine laughter.

I'm thankful you made such an effort to return it to me. He lowered his voice, bending down to my ear to speak. I wondered if I would ever see it again and have longed for it since the day I left it behind. As he said this my eyes landed on the Hawk. His icy glare sent goosebumps prickling up my arms. Sirius then spoke to the crowd. What are you waiting for? Let's get this lovely creature home.

We walked side by side and, from the corner of my eye, I noticed Papinias pull Macrinus aside. Whatever Papi had asked, Macrinus was now nodding his head in reassurance, then shaking his head with a shrug and a laugh.

There was such a commotion and flurry of activity, it was impossible for me to take in a single detail of Sirius’s house that first day. We entered a foyer, but I found myself instantly consumed in a rush of bustling and fussing and showing me to my rooms, so I ended up seeing nothing more than the backs of slaves, the hands of servants, my feet going up stairs, and a wide doorway until Saltia and I were delivered to a set of chambers so spacious they must have taken up almost an entire wing of Sirius's home.

I dismissed the household slaves who tried to help me unpack the trunks that had continued on their way to Vancuse City when I insisted on stopping for the night in Surria. I knew I shouldn’t, but I pondered how and when I could see Papinias. I told myself the desire was entirely innocent and practical.

After all, as household medic and Sirius’s secretary, Papi would spend much of his waking hours in this house and surely we would come across one another. The sooner we saw each other, the sooner we could establish our new relationship. I was determined we would be only friends and there was no reason, as long as I was a pleasing and faithful wife to Sirius, that we shouldn't be.

*  *  *

Once he’d heard I was settled and rested, Sirius asked me to join him in his office.

I was surprised to see your baggage arrive before you, he said awkwardly after a slave had poured us each a cup of wine and then moved aside to blend into the background. I was worried you wouldn’t come.

I only wanted time to clean and rest before entering the city. He toyed with his cup, nearly dropping it when some wine sloshed out. Is something bothering you? I asked.

I’d been led to believe it was a sign of your reluctance to come here. He bit his lip like a child being asked to tattle on a friend. I expected conflict from you. I have to say I was ready to be on the offensive when you showed up.

Why would you build an argument like that in your head?

No, not me, he said lightly. It was just Plautinius playing games with me, playing on my anticipation.

Of course, Plautinius. Already sowing seeds against me even before my arrival. No wonder Sirius had had such a stern look on his face when I arrived. And no wonder the Hawk looked so angry when I made Sirius laugh when I’d presented him the figurine.

Well, it was a pointless game.

I should have known better than to believe him. I mean, I’d already gone to the oracle and asked about the best day for our marriage and she told me it should be Herasday. I couldn’t very well marry you if you weren’t going to show up, could I?

I nearly dropped my own cup. "This Herasday?"

Yes.

But that's in only three days, I said with more annoyance than happiness.

Sofia, we've waited over a year now. The calm tides and safe roads have brought you here at a time when the stars state it's fortuitous we marry. You aren't having second thoughts, are you?

Second thoughts? Would it matter if I told him I'd had second, third, even tenth thoughts about this marriage twenty times a day since the betrothal? But I had a duty to