Shadows in the Night (46 page)

“But you’re cleverer than that,” Quintus countered, almost teasingly. “There are times when the masked chief has been seen and yet it couldn’t have been you. At the Druid ceremony, for instance. We saw you there in your Druid robes, and simultaneously we saw the Shadow of Death in his mask.”

Felix said seriously, “It wasn’t I in the Druid costume; that was a real Druid. True, I impersonated him when I came to the mansio to talk to Aurelia, but I wouldn’t dare do that at one of their ceremonies. It would be blasphemy.”

Blasphemy, indeed? Yet this was the man who had ordered two corpses to be placed in a sanctum dedicated to Jupiter and Juno!

Quintus was looking deeply impressed. “But there were other times—the masked figure has been seen often in this area, far oftener than you could have managed by yourself. Did Vitalis wear the mask sometimes too?”

Felix nodded. “We wanted to give the impression that the Shadow of Death could appear anywhere at any time. So sometimes he impersonated me, yes. But usually it was me. I was there the night you were attacked, Delfinus; and I was there when a certain message was painted on your stable wall, Aurelia dear. I even returned the cloak you’d so carelessly lost the night before. And of course I saw the attack on the Oak Tree. I wouldn’t have missed that for anything.”

“I’m surprised the Shadow-men didn’t realise that the masked figure wasn’t always the same person,” I said. “But if you never spoke…and then, you and Vitalis are alike in build.”

“Naturally,” Felix agreed.

“I’m sorry?”

“Like father, like son.”

I just sat staring. Had I heard him right? Had I understood what I’d heard correctly? I said at last, “You’re telling us—that you are Vitalis’
father?”

He gave a gleeful hoot of laughter. “I can’t blame you for not knowing. It’s been rather a closely guarded secret.”

“But how…I mean when….All right, both stupid questions. But tell us what happened.”

“Publius’ wife and I had a bit of a fling shortly after I arrived in Britannia.” He got up and started pacing about again. “Twenty-two years ago. I got to Oak Bridges the year that clod Vespasian became Caesar, after several other clods had tried and failed. She was a pretty little thing, but
very
provincial, whereas I was the Roman man of fashion, a courtier who’d lived with an emperor. Publius had always wanted a son, but they’d never had any children. However, she fell pregnant soon enough when I arrived on the scene! Poor Publius was mortified when he found out.”

“You mean he
knows?
”

“Oh yes, he knows. If his wife had lived, it might have been difficult, but she died when Vitalis was born. So Publius and I agreed the boy should be brought up as his. One or two servants knew, inevitably—we sold them. Nobody else has any idea. Except Vitalis himself of course, now.”

His pacing took him into a shadowed corner of the cave, and I looked at his dark figure, feeling a sudden stab of anger at the thought of how completely poor Silvanius had been betrayed.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” I said. “You’ve betrayed a man who thought of you as his best friend. Not content with stealing his wife, you’ve turned his son against him; and now you’ve given his enemies every last one of his secret plans.”

He smiled. “Shocking, isn’t it?”

“Actually, yes, it is,” I snapped, anger making me incautious. “When I think of all of us at Clarus’ meeting, believing we were among friends, taking our oath to keep our plans secret—and you broke your oath, and told everything to Vitalis and the natives.”

He was still smiling. “My dear, you cut me to the quick! I broke no oath. I’m a Cornelius, and in the Cornelius family we don’t break oaths. Especially when it isn’t necessary.”

Quintus said, “Then tell us how you got round it. You did take the oath of secrecy, didn’t you? If you didn’t betray the meeting, who did?”

“It’s not so very hard to work out.” His cat-eyes narrowed as he gazed at me. “You were there, Aurelia, after all.”

I cast my mind back to the scene in Silvanius’ sitting-room: the beautiful décor, the wall lined with scrolls, and all of us sitting round the fabulous citrus-wood table, solemnly planning how to defeat the Shadow of Death. We’d taken our oath of secrecy at the beginning of the meeting, we’d had our discussions, made our plans, then chosen our password.

“But we weren’t overheard,” I said. “We checked. Well, you did—you went and looked to see…oh, Jupiter’s balls! You went to the sitting-room door, because you had someone listening just outside, didn’t you? That bit of nonsense where you stuck your head into the corridor, you were actually making sure there
was
somebody there.”

He nodded, and sat down again. “You see? I knew you could work it out.”

“No, wait,” I said, remembering, “Silvanius left the room after you’d looked outside, to fetch the statues from the shrine, before we took the oath. Why didn’t he see your eavesdropper?”

“I expect he did. What he saw was one of Vitalis’ slaves with a broom in his hand, in the act of sweeping the corridor floor.”

There was a sharp tap on the cave wall, and Vitalis himself pushed through the heavy curtain. He was in his warrior gear. Behind him loomed Felix’s giant slave.

“Vitalis,” Felix smiled. “You’ve taken your time. Everything ready now?”

“Sorry, Father. Yes, all set now.”

I noticed they were speaking in British; and I also saw that Quintus was looking puzzled, as if he couldn’t understand what they said. Yet he spoke the British language fluently, despite an execrable accent.

“Good. Then I’m afraid, Antonius Delfinus, this is where we say good-bye for a while. Vitalis and his friends want to ask you a few questions. I advise you to answer them, otherwise they’re likely to become rather insistent. They’ve got a good hot fire going, some pincers, a saw….What else, Vitalis?”

“Chains,” Vitalis answered, looking Quintus up and down as if measuring him, “with spikes in them, hammers, nails….”

“So you see, you’ll have to tell them what they want to know. Make it easy for yourself, I should.”

There was a pause, and then Quintus said in Latin, “Sorry, I don’t speak your barbarian grunt-and-spit talk. Would you mind repeating all that in a civilised language?”

Felix laughed, and said, still in British, “So the great investigator came to Britannia to find the Shadow of Death, and can’t even understand the local language!” Then he switched to Latin. “Go with Vitalis, dear fellow. That’s all you need to know. The rest will come as a lovely surprise.”

But I couldn’t just sit by. “No!” I cried out. “You’ll get nothing out of him. He doesn’t know anything worth passing on. Well, you’ve just seen why. Haven’t you realised it yet, Felix?
I’m
the investigator here; I work with my brother Lucius, and I’ve sent him all the information he needs about the Shadow-men. So if we’re considering answers to interesting questions, you’d better tell your savages to talk to
me
.”

Felix sighed. “Isn’t it romantic? A girl defending her lover. Almost like a play! Well better, because I’m the writer and the director of the show, so I can decide on the ending. Off you go, Vitalis.”

“I’ll see you soon, Aurelia,” Quintus called, as Vitalis and the big slave began to march him out.

“Very soon. Love you!” I shouted after him.

I sat listening till their footsteps were lost in the flute music that was still incongruously filling the cave. Quintus was gone; I might never see him again. I’ve never felt so completely alone.

Chapter XXXI

What I did then is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I smiled and made a joke.

“Alone at last! Is that how the next line goes in your play? Or is that too corny for you?”

He smiled in return. “Oh, the odd cliché never hurts. How about ‘Now I’ve got you in my power’?”

“To which I answer, ‘You surely know you can’t get away with this.’”

“But I can, and I will.” He stood up and walked towards me. “And that’s quite enough bad dialogue for now.”

He put his right hand on my shoulder; with his left he brushed back some locks of hair that had strayed over my face. “You’re beautiful,” he cooed in my ear. “So very beautiful. I want to touch you, to hold you, to….”

I’ll leave out the rest of his wish list; some of it was quite flattering and some of it plain embarrassing. Eventually his tone became sad. “But you’ve always treated me as a joke, you’ve never even considered loving me. Now, I’m going to
make
you consider it.” He kissed me. I wanted to pull away but he held me close until he’d finished.

My mind was whirling. Perhaps if I offered him what he wanted…if I went to him willingly….

“Well,” I said, “there’s more to you than meets the eye, Cornelius Felix Shadow-of-Death.” And I stood up so that I could press my body against him. The pain of my ankle was excruciating; the hatefulness of what I was doing was even worse.

“I want you, Aurelia.” He kissed me again. “Surely you know how I feel about you? Surely you’ve guessed?” He touched my cheek, and gazed into my eyes. It was disgusting, but I kept still, and let him kiss me again. He murmured, “Well, you’re here now, and I shall have you.”

So, I thought, it’s time for the final throw of the dice. I leaned in close to him, and said softly, “I can’t stop you. We both know you can do what you like. But I don’t want to make love under duress. I want to enjoy it. And if I do, you’ll enjoy it much more too. Won’t you?” I kissed him hard, just for a heartbeat, then I pulled back.

He kissed my face and my neck, and I didn’t stop his hands from exploring my breasts. I let my own hands do some exploring too. He said, “Now who’s full of surprises?”

“That’s just the start, as you’ll find out if you put me in the right mood.”

“But what about your handsome investigator? I thought he was the man to put you in the mood.” There was more kissing, and his hands went lower.

I let him play awhile, then I said, “Forget about Quintus Antonius. You’ll find he knows nothing worth knowing, so stop wasting your time on him. Just let him go, and once he’s safely away, well, he’ll be out of sight, out of mind, won’t he?”

“You’d give yourself to me to save that oaf Antonius Delfinus?”

“There’s an easy way to find out.” I pressed my body hard against his.

He stepped back, and his sudden laughter rang out, peal after peal of it, and I knew I’d lost my final throw.

“My dear, you still haven’t learnt to take me seriously, have you? Why in the gods’ name should I release Antonius? I can have you in my own way, in my own time, as many times as I like. Perhaps I’ll even let your precious Antonius watch us. That’s after he’s told us everything we need to know.”

I moved away and sat down again. He came and stood over me, smiling, gloating. He didn’t need to say anything; he’d won, and I’d lost. We’d both lost, Quintus and I. We were without hope, finished. I felt cast down and defeated. And then I thought of last night’s sacrifice in the clearing, and I had a sharp memory of the Druid raising his dagger and killing a thin red-headed boy, and of Hawk’s haunted look as he confronted us afterwards. The two visions made me angry, and anger gave me strength. Hawk was our only hope now. I wouldn’t give up. I’d try, and I’d go on trying, to keep Felix talking, and reinforce his sense of security. If I was right and his men hadn’t dared to tell him of Hawk’s escape, then it might be a false sense of security.

I picked up my glass, which was empty, and held it out. Felix fetched the jug and refilled it automatically, and I took another drink. I said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you like, dear heart.” He sat down on the purple-covered throne, and took a drink himself. Good.

“I can see why the natives will follow you and Vitalis. They want to be free. But I’m puzzled how you got Marius to help you—a loyal Roman tribune. How did you manage it?”

He swirled the wine in his glass so the light made it sparkle. His insufferable smugness was back. “Yes, Marius was under my control for some time. Doing whatever I told him—and doing it well. I thought I’d get Junius too, but the fool fell in love with your precious sister. Love!” He sneered. “I ask you,
love!
They could have had power and wealth they’d never even dreamed of, those two. I told them, as Roman generals in our native army, they’d have been chiefs in our new free province, rich and powerful and…and Junius threw it all away for love! Ridiculous! And then he started trying to talk Marius out of helping us, making him doubt what he was doing. Sadly, I had to finish them both.”

“Junius never believed the Shadow-men would succeed,” I said. “I spoke to him, you know, when he was dying. It was thanks to him that we found your hideout here. Your native poisoners slipped up there, Felix. They didn’t kill Junius outright.”

Yes, I know, not the wisest of remarks. But the look of fury on his face, though it was alarming, was also wonderfully satisfying. He must have realised it, because he deliberately relaxed, and smiled.

“It makes no real difference,” he said. “The Shadow-men and the other Brigantian war-bands are on the move now. We shall frighten the Romans out of this area, and when the tribes further south see how easy it is, they’ll flock to join us. The rebellion will engulf the whole of Britannia, and in a year from now, two years at the most, we’ll be free of Rome.”