Maybe not, as Claudia first said, an innocent man. But a reformed man, who'd dedicated himself to ridding Gaul of rebels with the same passion he'd used to incite them. A man who regretted his past and wanted to make amends.
What I want is my life back.
Instead, she took it away…
Her finger went to her mouth, to the place where Manion had wiped away the drizzle of honey, and as she felt once more the sensuousness of his touch. While in her hand, a carved scorpion burned 'Listen, lady, if you're going to stand around in the rain, have the decency to do it out of sight of my cave. Moping depresses the patient.'
She stared down at the malevolent scowl and hoped no one would tell him what a good soul he was, it would kill him.
'Yes, how is Pod?' she asked.
Gurdo grunted. 'As far as the College is concerned, it's a fever, but ifyou think I'm going to catch pneu-bloody-monia talking about him in the rain, think again, Lofty Legs.'
Grabbing her arm, he dragged her along the path to the cave.
'Pod'll be fine.' He had to shout over the howl of the wind. 'He hardly knew Sarra, it was more puppy love, he'll get over her, given time, though between you and me, Lofty Legs, that boy had me worried. First Clytie, then Sarra.'
When he shook his head, drips flew off his ponytail, splattering Claudia's arm.
'I don't know what happened to the lad before I found him wandering the reed beds, but it was nasty, that much I can tell you. Enough to wipe his memory clean and trigger a breakdown when he found those poor cows, but — ' he shrugged — 'could have been worse, I suppose.'
So that was what put a spring in his step. Knowing Pod wasn't a killer.
'Here.' In the cave, he threw a blanket round Claudia's wet shoulders and shoved her without ceremony towards a heap of blankets piled in the corner. The blankets smelled faintly of nutmeg. 'Now say you're sorry.'
'Sorry? What for?'
'For not learning anatomy,' Manion croaked from the covers. 'That was my rib you jabbed with that blade. But not, thank the gods, my black heart.'
Thirty-Two
After the rain comes the sun, and with the sun came the heat. Steam rose from the paths like tropical jungle, birds bathed in the puddles and cows munched on grass flooded by rivers that broke their banks in the surge.
Beneath the dripping oak, Swarbric flourished his short sword as though he'd never been parted from it at a flaxenhaired trio, who squealed as they pulled out their skirts from their knicker cloths and promised never to do it again.
At the gate, Gabali lifted Mavor into his arms and threw her, laughing, into his gig.
Pod laid white roses in a glade for his true love.
Fearn broke her heart as hers drove away, and with that fat redheaded wanton as well.
In the Voting Hall, two new priestesses were sworn in at the pentagram.
In the kitchens, Ailm picked up a heather broom and started to sweep, defying with a glare any one to speak of her fall.
While a young girl with blonde, almost white hair, mixed scented oils in the Hall of Purification and dreamed of smuggling out a fuzzy-headed young slave under cover of night. If, of course, Connal would have her.
And a young man with a wound in his chest and seascape eyes took the first step towards getting his life back.
'You could have told me Gabali was working for you,' Claudia snapped.
They were standing by the cascade, which, swollen by the storm, came roaring out of the rock, its droplets making rainbows in the midsummer sun. Above the pool, swallows performed acrobatic parabolas and high overhead a black kite cast a silent shadow.
'Yes, I could,' Orbilio said quietly. He was no longer in shirt and pantaloons, but wore his long patrician toga that smelled faintly of rosemary, and his feet were encased in patrician boots. 'But you don't stop, Claudia. You continue to perpetrate these crimes and the bottom line is, people suffer.'
'Rubbish. No one gets hurt by my odd… indiscretion.'
'Fraud is never a victimless crime, because someone somewhere always loses out, and even if the victim can afford it financially, there's an emotional price to be paid. You have to learn the difference between right and wrong.'
'This was to teach me a lesson?'
He spiked his hair out of his eyes. 'It's not as though you need the bloody money-'
'I'm broke.'
'You're irresponsible, Claudia, that's why! A good accountant, some sensible policies and-'
'Oh, well, if you're going to start talking about being sensible-'
'Stop it.' He spun round to face her and his face was carved out of stone. 'You can't go on making a joke of it,' he said brusquely. 'Sooner or later you have to face up to the fact you don't have the skills to manage a business of this magnitude. Claudia, you have to start trusting people.'
Trust is when the same man is always behind you, to catch no matter how often you fall.
She stared into the torrent. He had always been there. He had always caught her…
'Once you accept that you need help and put some faith in your accountants, your scribes, your agents, your managers, your business will boom.'
What? And have them screw fifty per cent of the profits? Did she look like she had the word lunatic tattooed on her forehead?
'I'll think about it,' she said.
'Don't think too long,' he growled. 'I can only protect you so far, and believe me, the army is full of hungry young lions eager to make their first kill. That's why I decoyed you out here to Gaul. It took several weeks before I found an excuse in the form of poor little Clytie, but knowing about your mother's suicide, I knew you wouldn't resist the challenge.'
'Gabali phrased the word challenge somewhat differently, as I recall.'
'Between you and me, I think he rather enjoyed that.' Marcus flashed her a grin. 'But the point is, you and I have to make a decision. We can't go on as we are, and now that you said outright that you love me-'
Something flipped over beneath her ribs. 'I explained that.'
'Yes, you did.' He rubbed his jaw for a count of ten. 'You know your problem?'
'No, but I have a feeling you're going to enjoy telling me.'
'You like being broke. You enjoy living on the edge. You're totally addicted to the thrills.'
'So?'
'So-'
He leaned down, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her until she could hold her breath no more and was forced to kiss him back.
'So take the biggest risk you've ever taken in your life,' he rasped. 'Marry me. What do you say?'
She looked at him, dark and strong, always there, always capable. An honest man, a good man, a man she could trust and rely on. Life in the marriage bed would always be fun, he was handsome and passionate, and sweet Janus, she loved him with every aching beat of her heart.
'What I say is go to hell.' Disentangling herself from a thorn bush would be less painful than disentangling herself from his arms, but she managed. 'You deceived me, you lied to me-'
'I explained why.'
The burn of his lips almost undid her. She scrubbed the memory off with the back of her hand, while her soul had turned to lead.
'Orbilio, if you think the means justifies the end, think again.'
'Sometimes it does, I needed to force your hand, so help me, there was no other way.'
She smelled the sandalwood of his skin, tasted his fresh minty breath. Wanted to die in them both.
'No alternative to lying and cheating? Go to hell!' 'Claudia, no. Don't go-'