Air and Darkness (32 page)

Hedia crossed her arms before her.
Perhaps he and the snake will kill each other.
But she was between them, and there was no escape regardless of what happened afterward.

The clouds shattered into bright sunlight and a pair of chariots drawn by leopards. Behind followed an entourage of humans and not-humans of scores of types: beasts and satyrs, centaurs and fauns.

Bacchus had arrived with his followers, and the grassland swelled with vines and fruit trees along the track they had made.

Hedia recognized the man driving the left chariot as the leader of the army that had swept into Polymartium. At the time, she had thought she was seeing Bacchus himself.

Bacchus drove the other chariot. He was more beautiful than the sun, and his slender body was the source of the light that had suffused the clouds in which he and his followers swept across the plain. The cyclops turned to face them.

“Stand aside, brute!” said the human in the left chariot.

“You cannot order me, Ampelos!” said the giant. He lifted his staff again. “No one can order me!”

Bacchus hurled his thyrsus like a spear. The pinecone smashed through the cyclops' chest; his skin cape bulged outward in back.

Hedia dodged to the side so as not to be crushed by the huge corpse as it toppled into the ravine. The fennel stalk quivered in the middle of his chest.

“I greet you, Lord Bacchus!” Hedia said, and threw herself prostrate.

Things were looking up. The young god was a
very
handsome figure.

*   *   *

A
LPHENA STOOD BESIDE
L
ENATUS.
She would rather have gathered her force in a more private place, but the only space in Saxa's town house large enough to hold thirty-odd large men was the central garden on to which virtually every room in the building opened. Any member of the household could inform the authorities about what the master's daughter was planning.

“All right,” said Lenatus, addressing the men sitting or squatting at the back of the garden. It was late afternoon, the hottest part of the day, but that couldn't be helped if they were going to arrive at Sentius' villa during the third night watch: the three hours after midnight. “The first thing is, Lady Alphena is in overall charge, but if
I
tell you to do something, you'd bloody well better hop it. Got that?”

Men nodded, clapped, or—in the case of the two Armenians—bowed with their palms flat on the ground. Every member of the three escort squads had volunteered for the business.

Alphena had suspected that there'd been threats against anybody who wasn't keen on going along with a plan that involved magic and rebellion against the Emperor as well as the normal risks of an armed attack. Lenatus had assured her that all the escorts were enthusiastic; in fact, other members of the household had tried to join also.

“We'll be going through the city by squads,” Lenatus said. “Lady Alphena will take her own people.”

“Hey, we can handle it all ourselfs!” said Rago. “None of you rest need to come!”

Alphena opened her mouth to speak, but Lenatus snarled, “Shut up, Rago, or you'll get a trip back to Dalmatia in chains! You're not soldiers and I don't expect you to be soldiers, but you
can
hold off acting like bloody trash-talking gladiators while you're under Her Ladyship's command!”

Rago hung his head, but his cousin said, “Sorry, headman. Sorry, lady.”

“Right,” Lenatus said mildly. “Then in ten minutes by the water clock, Charias goes off with Lord Varus' squad.”

There were nods and smiles, but none of the men made a loud demonstration this time.

Lenatus had kept the force in individual squads so that they wouldn't march through Carce looking like a gang of cutthroats off to launch an attack. Alphena smiled at the thought. That was particularly important since they
were
a gang of cutthroats planning an armed attack.

“Now, some of you may think Charias is a pansy and wouldn't know which end of a sword to hold,” Lenatus said. “Personally I think you're wrong and that's why I chose him, but the truth is that I don't bloody
care
what any of you think. You'll take his orders like they were my orders, or else I'll crucify you when things settle down. Is
that
understood?”

Charias stepped forward. Alphena hadn't expected that, and she didn't think Lenatus had, either.

“Your Ladyship?” the understeward said. “Master Lenatus? I've spoken with the men I'll be leading. I can vouch for their understanding. We won't do anything that will jeopardize the return of Lord Varus and his mother.”

“Right,” Lenatus repeated. “I'll take the third squad myself; that's Lady Hedia's crew. We'll meet in the stables outside the Tiburtinum Gate where Pulto is waiting with the wagons and the equipment. Which brings me to another point.”

Lenatus paused. Alphena glanced at the man she had thought of as her trainer, a free citizen but of less importance in her father's household than an understeward.

She was seeing a different man now. Lenatus was a veteran legionary, a man who had spent twenty years guarding the frontiers from German raiders—and raiding into Germany whenever somebody in authority decided that it was time to teach the barbarians another lesson.

He's probably killed as many people as he's talking to now, and he's willing to kill a thousand more if I tell him to.

“Now look,” said this new Lenatus. “The hardware will be in the wagons. Everybody'll be issued just what he asked for. You can trust Pulto for that, because
I
trust Pulto. But nobody leaves here with a blade on him. I search each man before he goes out the back gates, and if I find anything the man stays. Caenus? You hear me?”

“I heard you when you said it before,” said the little Greek from Gādēs. His tone was sullen. “Dunno what the big deal is. I always carry a knife—but not today; I heard you.”

“Today we're not taking a chance that some centurion of the watch is going to get stroppy and decide to search a gang of thugs even if they're escorting a senator's daughter,” Lenatus said. “Look, I'm going to turn my back for a minute. If there's something on the ground when I look around again, that's none of my business. Got it?”

He turned. Alphena turned also. Caenus was one of her personal squad.

“Everyone is listening,” she said to the veteran in a low voice. “The whole staff. Anybody could report us to the prefect.”

“Right,” said Lenatus. “And maybe somebody will. The thing is, if somebody does every slave in the staff will be tortured for evidence because their evidence isn't valid
unless
they were tortured. Which means everybody except the informer has a bloody good reason to put a knife in anybody they think is heading out the door to find the prefect. My guess is that nobody is going to leave the grounds until this is all sorted and we're back.”

He grinned at her. “And maybe I'm wrong and there'll be a battalion of Praetorians waiting when we get back,” he said. “We'll deal with that when it happens, right?”

Alphena grinned back. “Right,” she said.

While they were whispering to each other, Alphena had heard occasional clinks as metal fell against stone. Lenatus said, “Anybody need more time?”

After a pause in silence he faced around again. Alphena turned with him. Several daggers and a full-sized cavalry sword—it must have been bound along the spine of one of the taller men—lay on the pavement.

“Right,” said Lenatus. “I think we're ready to start now.”

“One moment,” Alphena said, surprising herself. She looked out at the men she was about to lead against wizardry and perhaps worse.

“None of you have been promised anything except a chance to die,” she said. “I'm promising you now that if we come through this, you'll all get your freedom and passage back to your home countries with enough money to set you up there.”

“Hey, I was lucky to get outa Syria alive the first time!” called one of the men. Along with the general laughter came muttered agreement in a number of different accents.

“Well, I just wanted to say that,” Alphena said. She felt a little embarrassed. “Lenatus, you may take over.”

Minimus, the big Galatian from Hedia's escort, stepped forward. “Ma'am?” he said. “Her Ladyship, she's a great mistress. Everybody makes way for her. We'll get her back for you, and the boy too.”

Lenatus was waiting at the door of the garden. Men shuffled past—and were searched, just as he'd promised. Alphena waited to follow.

Would they be so keen if they knew I was hoping to find Publius Corylus at Sentius' villa rather than Mother and Varus?
she thought. And then she thought,
And would I be so keen if it
weren't
Corylus?

 

CHAPTER
X

Hedia remained prone, but through her eyelashes she watched Bacchus step down from his chariot. His sandals seemed to be made of golden light.

“You may rise, child,” Bacchus said in a light tenor voice that warmed and thrilled her.

Hedia stood with a sinuous ease that came from thigh exercises and a great deal of practice. The real trick lay in making it look effortless, which it certainly was
not
when she had just crawled down a tunnel on all fours.

She stared at the god, only arm's length away from her. “You're beautiful…,” she said. She wasn't certain that the words had reached her lips, though she knew her mouth was open.

Bacchus laughed. The sound was as liquidly golden as every other aspect of this wonderful creature. He said, “And who are
you,
delightful child?”

“I'm Hedia…,” she said, managing not to add,
wife of Senator Gaius Alphenus Saxa,
as she usually would. “I … oh, I look terrible!”

Usually when Hedia said something of that sort, it was to provide the man with an opportunity to disagree with her. Now, facing this
gorgeous
creature, she meant it in all truth. Her garments had suffered during her exertions with Gilise, and her quick passages in and out of the snake's burrow had completed their ruin. Not just her clothing: her knees and palms were gritty!

Bacchus laughed again and ran his right hand through Hedia's hair. “You are very beautiful, Hedia,” he said. “Your soul is truly exceptional, but your body is lovely also.”

“There's a thousand women in our train just as lovely,” said the man from the other chariot, Ampelos. Hedia remembered being impressed when she saw Ampelos at Polymartium, but here he was no more than the god's shadow. “That's if you find women interesting in the first place.”

“I do, dear boy,” said Bacchus, continuing to look at Hedia and stroke her hair. “I find this delightful woman very interesting.”

“I'll leave you to her, then,” Ampelos said.

Hedia had heard
that
tone often enough from the little friends of her first husband, Calpurnius Latus. She could easily imagine the boy flouncing away with a flick of his hips. She didn't bother to glance after Ampelos, though, because her soul was drowning in the god's eyes.

“Come, child,” Bacchus said. “My followers are weaving a bower for us to be carried by a pair of elephants. I think we'll find that more comfortable than riding in my chariot would be, don't you?”

“I would crawl on hands and knees to be with you,” Hedia whispered. She rose on her toes, pressing her body against Bacchus as they kissed.

Golden. A flow of warm liquid gold filling me …

*   *   *

“
I
AM YOURS TO TREAT
as you wish,” Aura said as she watched Corylus approach. “I would appreciate it if you allowed me to fetch one thing from the ravine before you act, though. I won't try to escape.”

Corylus frowned.
What does she expect me to do to her?
Then he thought,
What
do
I plan to do?

Aloud he said, “Go, then.”

Aura slipped over the edge of the trail. She kept her feet on the sandstone slope, but she shifted her grip from one bamboo cane to another to support her weight. She moved deeper into the ravine as she worked back in the direction they had come, but she never disappeared from his sight. The leaves scarcely quivered as she moved through the bamboo.

Corylus breathed deeply while he waited. It had all happened so
fast.
He hadn't been frightened when the monster thrust down at him, but looking back, he saw himself as an image in a mirror—and the mirror shattering into a thousand bits, each one a fragment of the soul of Publius Cispius Corylus.

Why did she try to get me killed?

Aura reached for something Corylus couldn't see from his angle, then straightened holding the orichalc ring he had noticed on the skeletal finger. She slipped it onto her left thumb, then leaned forward again. After a long moment she found what she was looking for and began to climb back to the trail. Her left hand held a belt from which hung a dagger in a scabbard of corroded silver.

“You lost your dagger,” Aura said when she regained the trail. She offered the gear to Corylus, still holding it by the belt to make clear that it wasn't a threat. “I brought you the one Zetes carried. He wasn't as quick as you were. I've never seen anyone as quick as you.”

Corylus held the tip of the scabbard against his staff and drew the dagger with his right hand. The blade was orichalc. He had seen such weapons before: they were as tough as good steel and took a keener edge.

“I would have gone after yours,” Aura said, “but you sank it so deeply into Scylla's skull that I didn't think I could have pulled it out.”