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for they were gesturing toward the Queen and talking rapidly. Jilana looked to Catus Decianus and was revolted to find him laughing, obviously relishing Boadicea's futile attempts to rise.
    Of their own volition, Jilana's legs carried her forward and she rudely shouldered people aside until she stood in front of Boadicea. The Iceni Queen slowly raised her head until her brilliant, blue eyes locked with Jilana's violet ones. For a long moment they stared at each other, Boadicea awaiting the fall of yet another Roman insult and Jilana searching vainly for words to express the sorrow which filled her heart.
    "Jilana, nay," Marcus whispered, somehow knowing what his daughter would do.
    Augusta had seen her, too, and she lunged forward. "Marcus, we must stop her!"
    Marcus caught his wife before she had taken two steps and held her firmly in his arms. In a horrified voice he told her, '"Tis too late, Augusta. The gods must protect her now."
    Caddaric, unable to see what was taking place because of his position, had had his fill of Roman abuse. "No matter what befalls me, Heall, return to the others before the gates of the town are closed. The Queen's chieftains must be told what has transpired here today."
    "Caddaric!" Heall lurched forward but the young warrior was far out of his reach.
    Unaware of the tumult, Jilana extended a slender hand to the fallen Queen. "Come, let me help you." Boadicea eyed her warily and, in spite of the insults her fellow Romans were shouting, Jilana bent and drew one of Boadicea's arms around her shoulders.
    Boadicea came to her feet with a small cry and Jilana struggled under the woman's weight. The crowd refused to yield and Jilana, a grim set to her jaw, pushed at the human wall with her free hand. Vile epithets followed Jilana's every step but she ignored them as she doggedly cleared a path for herself and her awkward burden. Though she was tall by Roman standards, Jilana was far smaller than the Iceni Queen and Boadicea was forced to bend in order to accept Jilana's aid, an action which caused even greater pain to her raw back.
    "Let me go, child," Boadicea groaned softly. "When he has humiliated me to his satisfaction, the Procurator will have me carried inside."
    "Nay," Jilana panted, shuddering when a glob of spittle splattered against her toga. "I would have you know at least one Roman here today is not lacking in courage."
    They had advanced only another few inches when the crowd abruptly quieted and parted, and Jilana stared straight into the narrowed eyes of Catus Decianus. "You flaunt Nero's will, woman," the Procurator said in a menacing voice. "This Iceni is bound for Rome, to serve the Emperor himself. Nero will not take it kindly when he learns of your interference."
    "Will he take kindly the fact that you allowed his newest slave to wallow in the dirt so that her wounds became infected?" Jilana retorted, although her heart thumped wildly in her breast. Lucius stood at the Procurator's side and Jilana avoided his censorious stare. "Only a fool would allow Caesar's prize to court destruction, Catus Decianus."
    The Procurator's face turned an ugly shade of red and Lucius hastily stepped forward. "Jilana, your concern for this woman is misplaced. Her wounds—"
    "You know this woman, Tribune," Catus inquired angrily.
    White brackets appeared at the sides of Lucius' mouth, but he answered steadily, "Aye, Excellency. She is my betrothed."
    "Ah, I know her now. You are the daughter of Marcus Basilius, are you not?" Without waiting for Jilana's reply, Catus added, "You are young and therefore allowed a mistake in judgment. Leave the barbarian and return to your home. We will see to her care."
    Jilana's violet gaze did not waver. "Will you give the order now, Excellency, within my hearing?"
    For a moment it seemed Catus would strike her, and Jilana braced herself for the blow. Catus raised his hand but then, apparently, changed his mind. Glancing about the crowd he spied a grim-faced legionary