One With the Darkness (16 page)

Claudius put aside his plate hastily and rose. “J-just what I had h-hoped to p-prevent.”

What did he know of this? Maybe he knew about it because he had arranged it. She did not share Rome’s view that he was stupid. He might be just the one to work in secret to support his cousin. Would Claudius try to prevent the assassination that would free him of a persecutor? Blood was still thicker than water. Did that mean he might be an ally? She couldn’t make out her way here. Now that the adrenaline of the attack had subsided, she was left feeling dislocated and stupid. “We were attacked by brigands. How could you have prevented that?”

He chuckled and looked down for a moment before he peered into her face. His expression had none of its usual vacuity. “L-let us not d-dissemble, good lady. You were attacked b-because you are a c-catalyst.” He glanced to Jergan.

Claudius knew! She managed not to blink an eye. “My bodyguard is privy to all my affairs, Consul. It seems I must keep him by my side constantly.” She motioned Claudius to sit. “Take no offense at that, I pray you.”

Claudius settled himself gratefully. “I do not. You m-must have a b-bevy of bodyguards to have survived the n-night.”

“Just the one.” She took her seat on an adjacent chaise, trying to compose herself. He
knew.
Then why was he not talking to his cousin, instead of here tonight?

“R-r-really?” Claudius examined Jergan more closely. “If w-word of that r-reaches my cousin’s ears, he w-will have him in t-the arena.”

Livia hadn’t thought that she might be putting Jergan in danger by making him her excuse for surviving, but that had been brought home to her twice tonight. She should take him and run from the city. But she couldn’t. Not before her plot had been consummated.

You can’t leave the city. There is something here, something you need.

It was as if a voice inside her shouted at her. An unwelcome, anxious feeling settled in her breast. What could she not leave? She shook her head to clear it. She needed her wits about her when dealing with Claudius.

Claudius might be enemy or friend. Even if he was her enemy, she might be able to hold him off long enough to execute his cousin. If Claudius was her friend, he might be able to tell her the answer to what puzzled her. Because he was dismissed as negligible, he was privy to the innermost chambers of the palaces. But first she must see where he stood.

“Rome is rather thin of company these days,” she remarked. “They retreat to their county estates even in winter to escape the arrests, the disappearances, the confiscation
of property. Did you know the phrase ‘summoned to Rome’ has become synonymous with death? People say of a dead man that he has been summoned to Rome.”

“My c-cousin has c-created a … t-tense atmosphere.”

“Yes. For you, too. How do you bear it? Don’t play stupid with me, since we are not dissembling tonight.”

“Have you ever n-noticed how f-few of my astute and ambitious r-relatives are alive?”

She could not help but smile. “A disguise then?”

“M-made easier by the c-cursed infirmity of my b-body.” He gulped his wine.

“So the question is, Consul, are you here representing yourself, or the imperial family?”

He did not answer. “I think my c-cousin has done R-Rome a favor. J-Julius and Augustus c-cloaked their absolute p-power in b-benevolence, so Rome would forget the v-value of what it had l-lost. But Gaius r-reminds us why giving absolute p-power to anyone is f-foolish.”

That still might mean Claudius was using her future actions or her future death by brigands in some deep intrigue of his own to garner power. It didn’t prove he hadn’t ordered the attack.

He saw he hadn’t convinced her. “T-There are w-whispers in the Senate today. W-whispers of the advantages of a r-republic. You p-play a bold game. T-too bold.”

Ahhhh. He might want his cousin dead, but Claudius didn’t want a republic. Perhaps he wanted a chance to cloak his power in honey like Julius and Augustus.

Claudius must have seen her wary expression. “N-n-no, no,” he sputtered hastily. “N-no p-power for me. Th-that’s why I came. T-to assure you of my s-support.” He realized what he’d said and looked around as though his cousin might leap out of some vestibule and skewer him. He reminded her of nothing so much as a hunted hare.

If it was an act, it was a good one. Of course, this man had been putting on an act for years, at least since puberty. “Who do you think is behind the attack, then? It isn’t your cousin.”

“If it w-was, you’d be d-dead.”

“Yes.” Well, no, not dead. But her plot ruined, her servants tortured or dead. She raised her brows to repeat the question.

“I d-don’t know who it is.” Claudius looked thoughtful. “Or how l-long whoever it is will w-wait to tell Caesar a-about you. I w-would move q-quickly for m-many reasons, Livia Q-Quintus.” He looked around again. “I m-must go.” He rose and she rose with him. “I would s-say stay indoors, b-but that will do you no g-good if my c-cousin finds out about your p-plot.”

With that, Claudius hurried away, limping slightly, without a backward glance.

Now the question was, how had Claudius found out about her little plan? Had one of her trusted conspirators leaked her role? By the gods, everyone seemed to know. Or maybe only one person knew and Claudius was the one who had arranged the attacks on her.

Livia let the air from her lungs, close to collapse.

Jergan was at her side in an instant. “Lucius,” he called.

The majordomo appeared, looking surprised at who had summoned him.

“My lady requires wine.”

Lucius swallowed once at being given orders by a slave. Livia nodded to confirm them. Lucius hurried away. Jergan glowered. He was used to being obeyed in another life. How hard for a man like this to be a slave.

He pushed her gently onto the chaise again. “Rest.”

“Thank you for tonight. I hadn’t realized the danger into which I put you.”

He chuffed a laugh. “You didn’t seem to need me. Why did you buy a bodyguard?”

“For appearance’s sake. If I had to defend myself, I wanted someone else to get the credit.” She ran her hand over her forehead, then looked up at him. “But I
did
need you tonight. I’m not sure I could have taken—what were there? Eight? Nine? Someone wasn’t taking any chances.” She couldn’t have died unless they knew to decapitate her. But she could have been wounded, taken prisoner when she was weak. Then she would have had to escape and leave her household at the mercy of her enemies, and Rome at the mercy of its emperor.

“You should leave the city,” Jergan said in a most unslavelike manner.

“I can’t. Titus and the others will lose their nerve if I am not here to prod them. And …” The anxious feeling rose up and almost closed her throat. “And I’ve been having the strongest feelings that there is something here I cannot leave, and something I must do.”

“What?” he asked, frowning.

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.” A thought occurred. “Maybe it has to do with these dreams. The attack tonight occurred exactly as I dreamed it. It’s as though I’ve lived this all before.” She looked up and saw the doubt in his eyes. “I know it sounds mad.”

9

J
ERGAN LOOKED DOWN
at her, her brown eyes big with doubt, and wanted to protect her from the danger that was so clear around her. “You are not mad. Just tired.”

He hadn’t been sure she needed protection before tonight. He thought she’d bought him just to make him suffer. But he believed it now. And in spite of her strength, in spite of the things he had learned about her tonight and the fact that she was a witch, he wanted to protect her. Her honor demanded she free her people from the capricious evil of the emperor. Rome was worse than Jergan had imagined.

Or perhaps it was much better. It held women such as Livia Quintus Lucellus and the men of honor who plotted with her.

At that moment Lucius announced another visitor. “Titus Delanus Andronicus.” Lucius hardly got the name out before the man himself pushed past him.

“Livia Quintus, are you well? I came as soon as I heard.”

Jergan stepped behind her, making his face a mask.

“Yes, Titus.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I am fine. Jergan here fought like one of those Pictish berserkers our spies tell us about.”

Titus looked up at him, surprised. “Nine bodies were found in the Via Apollonia.”

“And there was no one in the streets at all to witness the attack. It was very strange.”

“Not when you know that the Praetorian Guard had blocked the side streets for the passage of Caligula.”

Jergan frowned. If the emperor didn’t know of Livia’s plotting, why was his Guard involved in the attack, even if peripherally? Or maybe someone took advantage of the situation, someone who knew the emperor’s route in advance.

“Never mind that now. How goes your effort with the Senate?” Livia asked.

“We need more time. They waffle. They delay. No one wants to commit.”

“Just tell them. We don’t need commitment, good friend. Plant the seeds. When you are done, the deed itself will water them.”

To Jergan’s surprise, the old man knelt at her feet. “You are wise, Livia Quintus, beyond your years and your sex. If we could be ruled by an empress, you would have my full support.”

“Never say that, friend,” she said. Jergan swore there were tears in her eyes. “Only free men of goodwill can give Rome the governance she requires. Now go, before you are seen here without the protection of a general audience. Send a slave to let me know when you and the others have talked to all the senators. Then it will be time.”

He rose. “We will be quick. Two days … three, and we will have managed to see everyone.” He took her hand. “Stay well until then.”

He turned and was gone.

Livia’s shoulders sagged. “I feel old, Jergan,” she
whispered. “What if the tool I have selected for the deed fails in his task? All the talk of a republic will be linked to the attempt. Caesar will hunt out those who spread the rumors and kill all my friends.”

Jergan came around from behind the chaise and lifted her chin, not caring that it was not slavelike behavior. “And you of course. He would kill you.” That would be the greatest tragedy.

“The world moves forward,” she said, examining his face as if she could read salvation there. “No matter what you think of Rome, it brought all those Greek ideas to the world. Rome actually achieved men governing themselves in a republic.” She sighed. “But then the world takes three steps back into despotism and cruelty. I must try, at least, to preserve the light.”

“You have great courage.” He meant that.

“I don’t feel up to it. Not tonight.”

“You were attacked and hurt tonight. That’s all.” He looked at her face. There were no traces of the bruises he thought would bloom there. “Speaking of which, we should tend to your arm.” He glanced to the smear of dried blood across her fine, fair skin.

“Oh. That. It was not my blood. I wasn’t cut.”

And now that he looked closely at it in the light, he saw that there was no wound, just the dried blood. He could have sworn … “Perhaps a bath would refresh you, my lady.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “A bath. And one for you as well.”

“Yes, my lady.” A heat started to glow somewhere below his belt.

She made as if to call her maid.

“No, my lady.” He stayed her hand. “I will attend you in your bath. After what happened this night, you will not dismiss me again and leave yourself unprotected.”

“But …”

He frowned at her. He knew now just how much protection she required. Who knew how many they might send against her? He would not back down, whether he angered her or not.

She sighed. “Very well. I am too dispirited to argue with you. If you will permit me to have Catia bring us towels and bath supplies?” She raised her brows at him, mocking.

It felt strange to have her ask him for permission, yet natural. They had progressed to some new understanding that was barely related to her stern speeches of just the night before last. He could hardly repress a smile. He hoped his nod was gracious.

It must have been because she smiled at his audacity. He liked her smile. It was the smile of a generous woman, a passionate woman. He wondered if she had ever been a carefree girl, if she had ever loved anyone, if she had married and lost her husband to war or assassination.

When Catia had disappeared to get their supplies, Livia rose, gathering the torn blue fabric around her. She looked like an empress in spite of the dirt and the blood that smeared her. Her black hair hung in heavy waves down her back, intermingled with the small braids now, the pins of its intricate arrangement having deserted their posts.

He had never seen a woman he thought more desirable. It wasn’t just her beautiful, delicate body. It was her courage and her honor, her self-doubt. All monsters should be that noble in spirit. In fact, it didn’t matter that she was probably a witch. If this was what it felt like to be bewitched, he only wished he had discovered it years ago. He followed her outside. She did not hurry, in spite of the light rain. The breeze off the Tiber cleared out the aromas of a
city of a million people from among the olive trees that dotted the garden. Instead, it smelled like growing things. Different smells from those of his Centii. Sage, rosemary, olives. But still the scents reminded him of mown hay and wet grass. Outside the grotesque marble city was this land so different from his own?

She paused once before a vine-covered rock wall and peered around her as though searching for something. Tension sprang into her shoulders. He fingered the pommel of his sword and glanced around.

“What is it, my lady?” he whispered. Did she sense something he could not?

She shook herself. “Nothing,” she said. “A feeling I have. It is just nonsense.” She gathered her skirts and moved on.

Inside the bathhouse, she turned her back on him and began unwinding her
palla.

“Let me remove your sandals, my lady,” he said, and knelt. She lifted her tunic to allow him to untie the delicate leather strips painted in gold at her calves. The curve just at the back of her knee made his breath catch and his fingers clumsy. Above him, her breasts would be pressed against the light fabric of her tunic—the one that was almost invisible beneath the windings of her
palla.
Would he be able to see her nipples, their erection a sure sign of growing desire? She slipped out of the delicate sandal and he turned his attention to the other one. A pin from her hair dropped to the mosaic of the floor.