After the Fall (22 page)

Quietly closing the door behind her, Gigi left the room. Looking both ways, heart thumping, she picked up a tray, a flagon of wine and cups and two loaves of cooling bread, then headed for the palace. There were several dozen slaves sweeping the huge terrace and stairs, and a few looked up with curiosity as she hurried past, but they made no move or comment before returning to their chores.

The guards at the main entrance waved her through, and once in the great hall, Gigi got only cursory glances from others as she moved purposefully, remembering only too well the route she had to take. When she reached the corridor leading directly to Honorius’s rooms, her knees started to quake. The big Germans were there, but they hardly took notice, until one, nearest the double doors, blocked her way and glowered.

“What is your business?”

Gigi kept her eyes downcast and smiled, trying to ignore her pulse-pounding fear. She bobbed a curtsey. “Our most worthy emperor requested I bring a late night snack when I was done with my chores. He promised he would wait for me, and, er, I have bathed as he asked.”

“He didn’t speak of it to me,” the guard countered. “Besides, he has received another, uh, guest, and I’m sure he does not want to be bothered. Be gone.”

Pouting, Gigi looked up at the man and blinked several times. “It was an order, and I would not care to ignore such a direct request. If he doesn’t want to see me anymore, I’m sure he’ll say so, but please, I don’t think either one of us should presume to know his mind.”

He hesitated, looking uncertain and uneasy, and Gigi’s thoughts veered to what might be happening behind those doors.

“Go on then,” the guard huffed, letting her pass. “Be it on your head alone if he takes it ill!”

Gigi headed for the second set of doors, where a pair of bored-looking sentries stood. Through the walls, she could hear yelling and laughter and recognized Honorius’s voice at once. Her arms started to shake, but she put her chin up and forced her gaze down.

“At the emperor’s request,” she said, holding up the tray.

To her relief, the men stood aside and let her in, and the doors shut behind her. Honorius was across the room, pacing, ranting, paying no attention to her, and Magnus was on his knees before the emperor, bare-chested and bloody, head bowed, arms bound behind his back.

Gigi gulped back a cry and crouched behind the large bed. She put the tray on the floor, then pulled off the
palla
and drew out her dagger and Magnus’s short blade. Just as she was about to rise, she heard footsteps approaching from the opposite side, and something heavy landed on the bed. The footsteps receded, and Gigi rose slightly, to see what was going on.

Honorius’s clothing was in a heap on the bed and he was naked, standing before Magnus with a barb-tipped leather whip in his hand.

Horrified, Gigi looked at Magnus and suddenly realized he wasn’t kneeling on purpose, and it wasn’t just a bloodied nose he’d suffered, but much, much worse. There were open, bleeding cuts across his chest, shoulders, and arms, and he was tied against a column to keep him upright. She cried out. Magnus was unconscious!

Honorius spun around and Gigi saw expressions of fury, then shock, and finally delight pour over his face as he moved toward her.

Then she saw the bastard’s erection.

Enraged, ready to kill, she leapt to her feet, holding both blades in front of her.
“You sonofabitch,”
she said in English,
“you’re going to die for this!”

She stepped away from the bed, making sure of her surroundings, always keeping him before her, as Athaulf’s boys had taught her.

“Gigiperrin,” Honorius cooed, swinging the whip back and forth, his cock whipping side to side as well, “we should have known you’d come running to save your lover, although we’re afraid there’ll not be much of him left when we are done. For all we know, he’s dead already.”

Suddenly terrified, Gigi glanced at Magnus again. Was he breathing? She couldn’t tell.

As if in response, he moaned just as Honorius lunged, snapping the whip at her head, but she leapt away just in time. She thrust one of her blades toward him, but missed by several inches and he laughed at her efforts. She pivoted and faced him again, heart pounding.
Get closer next time,
she told herself.
Draw him in.
She swallowed hard, quelling her instinct to run.

Honorius grinned. “So, the whore-slave has yet to learn humility, but we shall see what we can do about that.”

With a flick of his wrist, he sent the tip of the whip flying at her again and Gigi heard herself scream as she raised her arm defensively, then scream again as pain ripped through her senses. Not only had the thing cut her forearm, she was surprised to see the thin leather braid had wrapped around her elbow. Furious, she jerked the whip as hard as she could and glanced up when she heard Honorius cry out.

She had pulled the handle right out of his hand. It fell to the floor, scudding on the tiles, and she shook off the leather strips encircling her arm. A look of bewilderment crossed Honorius’s face, then wrath, and he lunged for his sword and swung violently.

Gigi barely avoided him, and, with her mind screaming in terror, she darted closer. Squeezing her eyes shut in the last instant, she madly slashed and sprang away.

Breathing hard, she opened her eyes to see Honorius blanch, then touch his bloodied cheek, his face contorted with rage.

“You bitch!” he said, baring his teeth in a seething, angry grin. “You shall be the first to die. Once you weary from this man’s sport, Gigiperrin, and you will tire, we assure you, you will long for the sweet release of a blade, but it shall not be quick in coming. Oh no.”

He moved around her slowly, going in circles, waving the tip of his blade at her, trying to make her dizzy. But Gigi knew the tactic, had fallen for it too many times with the boys in camp, and she knew she could not wait for him to make a move. She had only two real choices: attack or run.

She leapt toward Honorius when he was between steps and slightly off-balance, flailing with her arms, hoping to land a blow serious enough to take him out of the fight, if only for a moment.

Honorius backed away in time, but he stumbled into Magnus and fell flat on his back, his sword clattering across the floor. Gasping for breath, he struggled to get up.

The bump brought Magnus out of his lethargy, and Gigi quickly cut his bonds. Weak and unfocused, he fell forward once his wrists were freed, and Gigi moved to catch him, but Honorius found his footing in the next instant and came at her. She let Magnus fall and tried to spin around to face her enemy. Too late! Honorius was on her, grappling for her knives, then punching her in the stomach.

She doubled over from the pain and they crashed to the floor together, but Gigi had the sense to fling her weapons as far as she could, knowing he’d overpower her in hand-to-hand combat and use them against her, hoping he hadn’t seen the sword still tucked into her belt and digging into her back.

They struggled and Gigi tried to claw at his face, twist free, anything, but he was agile and strong, and suddenly, in a brutal flurry of movement, Gigi’s arms and legs were pinned — she couldn’t move.

Honorius looked down at her with a triumphant grin, then lay on top of her, grinding his hips against hers. “You shall be sweet to taste, slave. We can hardly wait.” Arching up, he rocked back and forth over her, playfully thrusting his re-engorged cock toward her face.

“Ah,” he murmured, his face so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, “this is a fine gift, Gigiperrin, and we must thank you for the interesting foreplay. It is what we have dreamt of since last we met, since you kicked our royal person … a chance to put you in your place.” He paused and glanced at Magnus. “And now it is even better than we imagined, for Magnus is here to watch, coherent enough to realize, but too incapacitated to act. We drugged him, you see, with a highly concentrated feverfew potion we’ve been brewing for days in anticipation of your arrival. It will keep his blood from clotting. Do you see how it continues to seep from his veins? Of course, we also gave him just enough belladonna to keep him manageable, and now he shall watch while we fuck you and fuck you, and he’ll know, but he won’t be able to do a thing about it.”

Honorius ran his tongue along Gigi’s neck, then looked at her and grinned again. “You taste like you’ve been living rough, Gigiperrin. Mmm, delicious.” He licked her again, this time across her face, and she heaved up, trying to unseat him, but he laughed, and continued, “Magnus’s blood will empty onto the floor eventually, but not so soon that he won’t first see you die some sort of hideous death, perhaps whipped like him, until your flesh hangs in tatters. Or, or, perhaps, after your branding. Ah, we see your fear! We may even do it ourself, just for fun, and then, hmm, should we execute you in the arena, or the parade ground? Indeed, a very public death could be just the thing. But how, how shall we … ?”

Gigi tried again to wrench free of his grasp, but he grit his teeth and seethed, his intense physical arousal clearly driving him mad. He forced her arms over her head, pinning them together with one hand, and pulled at her smock with the other. Gigi screamed, but he was unfazed, his gaze intent as he uncovered her legs, her thighs, her hips, her —

He moved on top, his legs straddling hers. Balanced on his free forearm and knees, he had his chest raised, his hips poised over her, and she was able to look down her length and see him hovering above her, stiff, horrible, ready.

Shaking with revulsion, she tried to squirm away, but he held her fast.

His gaze followed hers and he laughed. “Ready yourself, slave. And when we are done with you,” he looked over at Magnus and grinned, “he’ll be next.”

She spit in his face, but he merely licked his lips and laughed again. Tensing, her whole body trembling, she writhed, trying to find Magnus, but Honorius blocked her view. She couldn’t bear the thought of —
oh, God help us! Please, this can’t be happening!

Out of nowhere something black crashed against Honorius’s ear, crossing his eyes and sending him sideways, out cold. Unsteadily, Magnus raised his arms again, ready to crush Honorius’s skull, when Gigi felt something inexplicable, a presence so powerful it caused her to glance around to see if someone were actually watching them.

Suddenly, the instinct for self-preservation enveloped her, willed her to action, and she scrambled up and grasped Magnus’s arm, pulling him away from Honorius.

“No, Magnus, no!” she urgently whispered in his ear. “We don’t have time. We have to get out of here — now!”

She gathered the two weapons she’d thrown, and handed the dagger to Magnus, but just then he reeled and dropped what he had used on Honorius. Gigi put a shoulder under his arm, bracing him, and looked at the bloody object on the floor. It was a … a …
Oh, my God!

Sickened, she turned away and helped Magnus to the bed, then held his face up and forced him to look at her. His eyes seemed unfocused, but he asked, “Did I kill him, Gigi? Did he … ?”

“I don’t think he’s dead, not quite,” she said, “but don’t worry about anything else. I’m all right. You stopped him.”

Nodding, Magnus looked like he was about to pass out again, and she wondered how she was going to get him out of the palace. The balcony, of course, but Magnus was so woozy.

An idea struck and Gigi pulled the sheets off the bed. She cut them into wide strips and knotted them together, end to end, then tied the end to her
palla
and tied the
palla
around Magnus’s bare chest, securing it under his arms. Then, supporting him, they moved onto the balcony.

He shivered and Gigi stopped. What was she thinking? He needed clothes, something warm — then she saw torchlight in the garden. Soldiers! She pulled Magnus into the shadows, watching until the light faded and they were gone.

She glanced back and then dashed inside for one final item. Stepping over Honorius, who was still out cold, she rummaged through his clothing and grabbed his lavish, purple cloak, then ran back and threw it off the balcony.

Carefully easing Magnus over the balustrade, Gigi spoke softly, soothingly, explaining what he must do. “Hold onto this. Don’t let go until I tell you.”

Standing on the outer edge, his eyes cleared and he nodded. He gripped the stonework, but then his eyes grew unfocused again, his legs wobbly.

Frantically, Gigi tossed the other end of the sheet strips over the same branch she had used to escape once before, then jumped for it herself and scrambled to the ground. Holding the other end around her back and leaning against it to take out the slack, she looked up at Magnus and swallowed, hoping her plan would work, hoping her sailing knots would hold.

“Magnus,” she whispered up to him, “let go and fall backward on three, do you understand? One, two … three.”

There was a slight hesitation, but then he let go, and she could see him falling, dropping, and suddenly the sheet went taut and nearly jerked her off her feet. Catching her breath, she couldn’t help but grin as Magnus swung easily on the other end of the line, looking pleased and bewildered. Then, gradually, Gigi let the sheet play through her hands until Magnus’s feet touched the ground.

She untied him, pulled the cloak over his head, and tossed the
palla
over her shoulders, then wadded up the sheeting and hid it behind a bush. With one shoulder propping him up, Gigi and Magnus made their way through the grounds, heading for the garden, and hopefully, the horse would still be tied there, waiting to take them out of town.

Whenever she saw guards, Gigi hid with Magnus until they passed. Twice she had nowhere to hide and was forced to pull Magnus against her in an embrace, so the guards would only see the cloak. Both times, they started to ask questions, but as soon as she giggled and manipulated Magnus’s hips, they backed off quickly, full of apologies to the emperor.

Exhausted and worried Honorius would sound the alarm at any minute, Gigi and Magnus moved as fast as possible, heading for Venus’s garden — and freedom.