Lucilla--NaNoWriMo2014

Chapter Eleven

Three days later Mark and Lucilla were again aboard a submarine between enemy - held Sicily in the Mediterranean and the toe of Italy.

They wore wet suits that US Navy "frogmen," as the called them, and their necessities were packed in rubber, water - proof bags. Their bicycles were secured to the outside of the submarine because their wheels were too large to carry inside the submarine. Simple repair tools and tire repair patches were in a hanging bag under the seat and small hand air pumps were among their baggage.

The submarine surfaced just after dark so as to give Mark and Lucilla plenty of time to reach the shore, which was about one mile away.

The navy provided them with two rubber dinghies tied together so as to hold all their equipment and both bicycles. They carried no firearms but commando knives, shovels for burying their dinghies, and unneeded equipment, and finally their weapons.

Lucilla was surprised at how much her life had changed since Petronius, her lover on Capri. Now her life was in the hands of the man who had saved her life more than once. Nerve was right about her new world being more dangerous than her life in Ancient Rome. There were so many more ways that she knew how to kill besides the poison she gave the man who stole her youthful innocence.

There were so many more ways to die in this new world. In a way she was happy that the Roman Legions of her time had no knowledge of firearms, planes bringing death from the sky, and bombs that fell from the sky or exploded under vehicles.

Lucilla looked at Mark as she struggled with her paddle against the rough waves. Here was the man who was making so much difference in her life. The harder Mar had made her on the outside, the softer she was becoming on the inside--for him.

Lucilla so wished that she could have met such a man in her own time. They had to have existed. Lucilla's father was such a man. In his reluctance he had ruled an empire. He had done what a ruler ought to do. Be ruthless toward his enemies but just to the poor. She was proud that her father had been a warrior and a learned scholar.

As they paddled closer to shore, Lucilla thought how ironic that Mark had been a gentle professor of ancient history and languages. Now he was an expert at making war. Mark was so much like her father. Not ambitious in his private life. Yet he would risk his life for her.

What was keeping Mark from just lying with Lucilla again like that magic night she had slept with him? What kept him from saying to her what she so wanted to hear?

That Mark loved her like she loved him but could not say it to him.

Why could she not have put aside the need for power in her time and had found a man like Mark to love in her own time?

Would such a love have caused her to suppress her driving ambition in her time?

Would Lucilla have been content to have given her body to one man like Mark instead of those others she used because she had not really known real love until now?

Waves became rougher as she and Mark drew closer to shore. There were rocks ahead, and a surprise wave overturned their rubber rafts. They struggled in silence to turn their load right again.

All of their equipment and bicycles were safe. The only thing missing was Lucilla's paddle. But she and Mark with time dragged their load ashore.

There was no time for modesty. In the half light provided by the moon Mark and Lucilla had to take off their rubber suits one at a time for security reasons. She rather enjoyed seeing Mark bare all as she stood by with his shovel and ready to surprise an intruder.

Then Lucilla enjoyed the pleasure of taking off her clothes for Mark. Of course, he had to keep his eyes open and could only glance her way now and then.

She had her shoes and riding skirt on and was taking her time to put on her bra, hoping that Mark would enjoy enjoy her breasts in the half light.

The she heard a rustling sound as strangers were approaching. There were two soldiers, one German and the other Italian. As they shined their flashlights on Lucilla she almost froze but kept her composure.

"What are you doing here?" the German soldier asked in German.

Lucilla lowered her bra so as to reveal her full breasts as the Italian soldier said, "Seniora, what have you been doing here."

"I have been Making love, but my partner has left me here for the moment."

Lucilla took her time placing her breasts inside her bra, but the German soldier shined his flashlight on the rubber rafts. He turned to his companion .

"She is a spy. Shoot her," he commanded.

The Italian was reluctant, so the German pulled his Walther pistol from his holster man took aim.

Mark then bashed his shovel against the back of the German while the startled Italian turned away for the moment . But for an instant he forgot about Lucilla.

The last thing the Italian saw before Lucilla she killed him with her commando knife was her bare breasts.

As the Italian bled out, Mark finished off the German with his shovel.

"That was fast thinking, Lucy." Mark gave her a hug.

"Oh, father!" Lucilla said with tears. "Thank, Jove, I'm safe with you!"

"Father?"

Lucilla felt safe for the first time in years. Mark's embrace felt so much like once night when Marcus Aurelius came to comfort his daughter, not just a future Roman princess. How Lucilla loved those powerful arms around like his once more.

"Lucy, are you all right now? " She nodded yes. "Get dressed because we now have two bodies to bury."

They worked fast, within two hours they had buried the bodies and their equipment, including all the weapons. They no longer carried commando knives.

After Mark brushed the area of all traces of their landing and struggle, he threw his shovel into the water where it sank.

After adjusting their clothes, checking their papers and seasonal Italian rail passes, the assumed their new identities as Giuseppe and Helena Carabeta. Their address was a safe house in Rome.

So they took up their bicycles and began to ride over the jarring stone Italian roads.

"Giuseppe," as Lucilla now addressed Mark, "My father once rode in a chariot over this very road. It's so remarkable that it's in such good condition after another seventeen hundred years! " She smiled. "Rome and everything about it is indeed Eternal."

"Helena, we say 'all roads lead to Rome.' "

"Oh, Giuseppe, " Lucilla said, "My father said the same thing." Lucilla was so delighted. "Have you read his writings too?"

"Helena," Mark said, "the works of Emperor Marcus Aurelius are now known the world in many languages. He is or was a remarkable scholar, a Stoic much like Seneca."

"You know of him too?"

Lucilla was excited as they walked their bicycles up a steep hill.

From behind an Italian military vehicle with armed guards pulled up beside them.They smiled and we're polite but firm.

"Senior and Seniora, show us your papers, please."