'Did you see the way people looked at her?' Candace said. 'That was the drug, and that's why she kept stringing him along.'
Not just Darius, Claudia thought. Larentia had been laughing at her daughter-in-law all along. (And to think she'd actually felt sorry for the poisonous old bat!)
'Goodbye, Candace,' she said, wishing her luck. 'I think you and Amanda deserve it.'
'Actually,' a voice rumbled, 'there'll be three of us.'
Darius stepped out from behind a pillar, something he seemed very good at, and as much as Claudia wanted to remain cross with him, the fire had gone out of her belly.
'Claudia, I don't ever expect you to forgive me, but I do hope that one day you can understand.'
'I already do,' she said softly. 'Tortured by your family's deaths and the injustice of false accusation, on top of being consumed by a feeling that you'd failed everyone you ever loved, you truly believed in your heart that you owed them retribution.'
That gravel voice wasn't the rusty horse razor Orbilio imagined. It really had trod the path to Hell.
'I was wrong, though, that was the point. I brought vengeance on those who didn't deserve it, and… and I cannot ever put that right.'
'No, you can't,' she agreed crisply, 'but none of those involved know that they've been set up, so I suggest you leave the rest of the silver for the families you've destroyed-'
'I can't,' he cut in. 'I've already spent it.'
On expensive renovations to Claudia's villa, among other things, she reflected, but when you're teetering on the edge of ruin yourself, this is no bad thing. Claudia Seferius had never had a problem with hypocrisy.
'Here.' Candace began to remove her welter of bangles and pendants. 'Like we said, my child, love is more precious than gold.' She handed Claudia her rings and anklets. 'I cannot carry Kush on my body, any more than I can carry Kush in my heart. I do not belong there, I have never belonged there. My homeland only brought me heartache and pain.'
'If you can both put the past behind you, you have every chance of success,' Claudia said. 'Once neither of you cared, and Darius, you were dead every bit as much as your father, your mother, Mariana and your child. But now you do care. You've begun to feel again, so for gods' sake don't waste it.'
Second chances are as precious as they are rare, but she couldn't linger with tearful goodbyes. The infirmary awaited and, funny, but inside this artificially lit subterranean warren, it was easy to lose track of time. So much had happened since dawn broke over that enormous pool of blood in the precinct that it was probably no later than midday — yet a lifetime could have passed since then.
Claudia closed her eyes and prayed to the Fates who measured the thread that that lifetime wasn't Orbilio's.
In the House of Shadows, where whispers flitted like gnats round the Runes of Adversity, the Goddess of Immortality lifted the veil from the Mirror of Life. In it, she saw spring blossoms ripen into rich autumn fruits. She saw seeds in the womb grow into man, then watched those same strong, knotted muscles turn scraggy and thin. Everything changed except Immortality herself. But all earthly things must come to an end.
As the last grain of sand trickled through the holed jug that measured the span of human life, the Herald of Death slipped on his silent winged sandals.
'I don't care what the bloody priest says!' Claudia barged past the guard outside the infirmary and flung open the door. 'I have to see him. I have to talk to him. I have to tell him not to go yet.'
'Tell who not to go where?' a baritone drawled from the bed.
Claudia blinked. He was sitting up. Miracle of miracles, he was sitting up, with a bandage round his upper arm and he was smiling. Relief coursed through her veins, and for some stupid reason her legs had gone wobbly. Sitting up. Smiling. With a bandage round his…
Round his upper arm?
And what's this? It's not just one cot that's occupied, but three bloody beds. Orbilio, Orson and Rosenna, all pale, all sporting bandages…
'I'm sorry, milady, it is the Lord Tarchis' orders that no outsider be permitted in the infirmary without his authority.' The guard was one step away from breathing fire. 'I will have to ask you to leave.'
'Ask all you like,' the baritone rumbled. 'I've seen that look in her eye before.'
'What's the matter, guard?' A stocky individual with close-set eyes marched into the room, carrying a surgical box under his arm.
'I've tried to get her to leave, sir…'
'What for? Invalids need visitors.' He deposited the box at the foot of Orson's bed and flipped open the hinge. 'Cheers 'em up.'
'But Lord Tarchis-'
'Gave the order before he went to bed. It was an expedient way to keep order while people recovered from yesterday's revels.' He brought out a pair of sharp pointed scissors and cut through the stitch holding the bandage round Orson's shoulder. 'She can stay.'
'Will someone please tell me what's going on?' Claudia demanded. 'For gods' sakes, Orbilio, I thought you were at death's door!'
'I'm sorry if my good health disappoints you.'
'You do not enjoy good health, young man, so stop bragging. ' The physician waved the scissors with uncompromising menace. 'If you must know,' he told Claudia, unwinding Orson's bloodied bandage, 'the only reason that little hothead,' he pointed to a contrite Rosenna, 'didn't do more damage was because this little hothead,' he tapped Orson's skull, 'got between them.'
No wonder there was so much blood in the precinct! It had spurted out from three different bodies.
'You'll need an abacus to keep count of the wounds,' he said, slapping a poultice on to a neatly stitched cut. 'Apparently, it was some struggle, our little wildcat none too eager to part with her skinning knife, but at a rough guess, our young hero sustained four, the wildcat sustained six — mostly slashes that cost them a lot of blood — while the braggart whose hand you seem to be crushing took a blow to the upper arm, two to the chest, and one in the side that was quite deep.'
Her stomach flipped over. Sweet Janus, if Marcus had done as she had asked, he would have been dead…
'Dammit, Orbilio, don't you ever do anything you're told?' It must be the stuff he'd put on that poultice, because her eyes had started to water. 'I specifically asked you to put Orson under arrest.'
'What for?' The boy's face twisted in puzzlement. 'Oi handed that jewel box in the minute Oi found it there under me bed! You can't go round arresting folks for being honest!'
Or giving civilians medals for being brave, she reflected. Looking at the expression that passed between Orson and Rosenna — a mix of complicity, affection and sorrow — it was obvious that, whether he'd seen her pocket the knife or had just been alarmed by her strange behaviour, Orson had shadowed her during the festival.
'Mind, Oi think you'll be happy with me news, marm.'
Claudia's stomach was still churning. 'Sorry, Orson, what did you say?'
'Oi said, your Flavia don't want me no more. Partly it were coz she thought it were boring, stupid and a complete waste of time, me making toys for them kiddies, but like I told her, if every man were a lord, where'd we be?'
There was merit to that, though Claudia preferred the alternative. 'I think I can guess the other part.'
'Aye.' He nodded glumly. 'It's coz Oi weren't there when she danced.'
That's Flavia for you! While Orson's saving Orbilio from death and Rosenna from herself, the little cow's bitching because her boyfriend wasn't watching her dance.
'You're lucky,' she told him, as the physician stitched up the fresh bandage. 'You escaped. I'm stuck with the wretched girl.'
It was good to see the ugly lug laugh.
'Right, Oi'm offthen,' he told the doctor. 'Oi'm a working man, see, and me hands need to be busy.'