Regeane could feel her heart hammering.
“Regeane, if you will not cage the wolf, at least learn to be discreet.” Antonius leaned forward and brought his fist down on his knee. “Too many people in Rome already know.”
Regeane leaped to her feet and stared down at Antonius, fists clenched. “The shepherd boy,” she gasped. “You didn’t …”
Antonius raised one hand as if to quiet her. “No, Regeane, but I was only just able to talk Mother out of eliminating him.”
Regeane turned away, shaking. “What am I that I spread death wherever I go?”
Antonius gave a snort of laughter. “Contain yourself, girl. Death is a part of this game. Death for the great as well as the simple. You will see failure, defeat, and yes, death, around you as long as you live. The boy hazarded his life not only for you and me, but for pearls and silver. Enough to buy a farm. He will have his life and his fine farm, I’ve seen to that. So save your tears and self-reproach for the better cause.”
Regeane walked toward one of the columns supporting the porch roof and set her back against it. “How like your mother you are.”
Antonius laughed. “Yes,” he said. “I’m not only like my mother, you’ll find in time, I’m even worse. But dry your tears because this is your afternoon to be charming.”
Regeane closed her eyes for a second. Her mind drifted. She remembered Maeniel’s hands on her body. That wasn’t love, but it was something. Would the rest be as good? The wolf gave a soft grunt of pure enjoyment. Her desires right now were clear to Regeane. The sun was warm on the woman’s face and its brightness shone through her eyelids. The air was cool, but the stones in the wilderness beyond the city would hold the sun’s heat. The wolf wanted to stretch out on one of those stones and drowse through the long afternoon. She would dream of springtime, of mountain torrents that are frozen all winter and swell to a flood in the snowmelt, of meadows where the delicate scent of new grass and spring flowers madden the senses into ecstasy. Of sun-dappled valleys where birdsong is the only sound and even that turns to silence when the long blue shadows of twilight become a star-filled night.
She opened her eyes and Antonius smiled up at her.
The wolf reached out past the woman. She felt his cold, but sad intellect. This man knew what the world was, but did not glory in his knowledge. Yet beyond the intellect burned the flame of an abiding, gentle love. The wolf gave him her trust.
“Who am I to charm?” Regeane asked.
“First, you will greet the men who are to be your household guard. I entreat you, reach down into that bag of gold Maeniel gave you and give each of them a fine present. They must know who pays them. Also, a hint of ‘I’m so pleased that you strong, handsome, stalwart men are going to stand between my flowerlike beauty and danger,’ wouldn’t hurt either.”
Regeane smiled.
“Oh, my yes,” Antonius said, admiring the smile. “Bestow those beauties freely, also, and they will buy you more than gold.”
Regeane nodded.
“After meeting them, you will see Rufus.”
“Rufus?” Regeane repeated, her brow furrowing. “Who is …?” then she remembered. “Cecelia’s Rufus?” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” Antonius answered. “You recall Cecelia.”
“Yes,” Regeane whispered. “How could I forget her? But how did you know about Cecelia? I met her at the convent. They say she never leaves.”
“You are a child, Regeane.” Antonius shook his head. “True, she never leaves the convent, but she has an almost constant stream of visitors. Often very aristocratic visitors, I might add. Both you and Dulcina have received her approval and her accolades. She says she found you sweet, compassionate, passionate, ingenuous, and charming. Not to mention attractive.”
“Only attractive?” Regeane said. She was a little disappointed.
Antonius lifted one hand in a graceful gesture and mimicked Cecelia. “A beauty, my dear, which does not stun, but compels. One that will not fade with time, but increase into a magnificent presence.”
Regeane dimpled and curtseyed.
“Be that as it may,” Antonius continued. “Her accolade came to the ears of Rufus. He begs that you intercede with her for him.”
Regeane looked away from Antonius at a moss-grown statue of the girl pouring water into the pond. A light breeze ruffled the surface, breaking the sun’s reflection into splinters of light. A carp came to the surface and took an insect skating among the golden reflections, and then vanished with a snap of its muscular body into the depths.
“It won’t help,” Regeane said.
“I know, Regeane, but you need not promise Cecelia will listen, only that you will go.”
“Very well,” she answered dully. “I will go.”
“Good,” Antonius said. “Rufus’ lands are very close to Rome. So far he’s persevered in his loyalty to the Lombard duke. But if Mother and I can persuade him to throw in with us, Basil will find himself unable to besiege Rome any longer. In fact, he’ll be cut off and operating in hostile territory. Rufus has his own men and they are experienced fighters and deeply loyal to him. Don’t forget, Regeane, this beautiful garden may be peaceful, but outside, the city is in chaos. Only Basil’s fear of attacking the Franks openly protects us right now. So do your best to please Rufus and win him over.”
Regeane nodded sadly.
“Last of all, of course, is Gundabald.”
Regeane’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Your mother made it plain what I was to say to him.”
“Well …” Antonius looked down at his knees with a wry smile on his face. He refused to meet the burning gaze Regeane fixed on him. “Well then,” he repeated. “I believe the less said the better.”
“THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH HER,” GAVIN said as they rode off down the street away from Lucilla’s house. He sounded chastened.
“There is plenty wrong with her,” Maeniel answered. “But I’m not sure what.”
“Maeniel,” Gavin began in a warning tone. “You’re getting on my nerves again.”
“Didn’t you watch her when she touched the jewels?”
Gavin gave himself a little shake, then remembered he wasn’t furred at present. The gesture was one of puzzlement among wolves.
“I’ll put it another way,” Maeniel said. “By all accounts, she’s poor, that girl. Did she act like a normal woman receiving a magnificent present?”
“No-o-o-o-o, she certainly didn’t,” Gavin said. “She seemed suspicious and a bit reserved.”
“She had her reasons,” Maeniel said. “The first necklace I handed her was badly haunted. I’ve never been able to bear the touch of the thing for more than a few moments. She must have seen, as I did, the evil fate of the woman who first wore it. The second belonged to Guinevere.”
“What?” Gavin shouted.
“Guinevere,” Maeniel repeated.
“The Guinevere?” Gavin said.
“None other,” Maeniel answered.
“She was a great whore,” Gavin said.
He hit the ground a second after with a crash. It took him about one dazed minute to realize Maeniel had knocked him off his horse. By this time he was on his feet, reaching for his sword hilt.
Maeniel pulled his horse to a stop in front of him, sidewise, blocking his way. Maeniel laughed. “Want to try your teeth on me, cublet?”
Gavin shook his head as if trying to clear it. “I’ve never seen you like this before,” he said, bewildered. “What has this city done to you? We were happy in our mountains. What did I say? And don’t tell me you’re going to start yammering about how you knew Guinevere.”
“I did,” Maeniel said.
Gavin marched toward his loose horse with an air of injured dignity. “No,” he shouted. “I won’t fight you, you’re much too good. I’m not suicidal. Besides,” he said, stopping and staring up at Maeniel. “It would hurt me almost as much as if I won as it would if I lost. I’ve followed you faithfully since we met in that
Irish wood.”
Now Maeniel noted there were tears in Gavin’s eyes. He sighed deeply. Gavin was chasing the horse around in a circle, trying to mount him. The beast rolled his eyes and kept stepping out of the way, just as Gavin reached for him.
“Stand still, goddamnit,” Gavin yelled.
A small crowd had gathered and some of them were laughing at Gavin’s efforts to catch the horse. Maeniel took pity on him and caught the brute’s bridle and held him still. Gavin pulled himself into the saddle.
“Very well,” he said stiffly, once he was seated and again in charge of the horse. “I take it you believe I insulted the lady.”
“Yes,” Maeniel answered. “I do. She was, as I said, a mighty queen never defeated in battle. But how can I explain to you a world that has long gone? A world that was only a dim memory in your grandsire’s grandsire’s time? I’m sorry, Gavin, sometimes I hate being human. This is one of them. But I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
They were riding away from the populated streets and entering the empty ruins. The sky was a clear bright winter blue and the wind played softly across the green and brown wasteland.
“I never thought,” Maeniel said, “to be so haunted by memory. You’re right, Gavin. The mountains are clean. There, we wander at will and can give free rein to our natures. Here amidst this ancient corruption, I find the face of mankind too appallingly real.”
“I was,” Gavin said, “a man first, but you, the way you tell it, if you’re telling the truth … You were a wolf first.” He seemed shocked, no, worse than shocked, almost shattered by the realization. “I didn’t know that ever happened.”
“It did in my case,” Maeniel answered. “I’ve never asked any of the others. Have you?”
“No,” Gavin answered, his voice was shaking. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Nor I,” Maeniel said. “And I’m not entirely certain I should have told you. Except that you’re the first friend I’ve made in several hundred years. And I have been … lonely.”
Gavin was silent for a long moment. “All wolf and no man,” Gavin said. “Wolf by chance and man by choice.”
“No, no,” Maeniel answered. “Not by choice. Blaze chose for me. God, sometimes I despise you, Gavin.”
“Maeniel,” Gavin said.
“No, not you personally.” Maeniel made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “All your kind. You speak of the wolf as a ravening killer and yet what wolf could ever equal you in cruelty and debauchery? As cowards you are without rival, as killers without peer. Even you run on four legs to find a multitude of loves. Places to lodge your prick and whimper with ecstasy. The shape change to you is the road to abandonment.”
Gavin jumped off his horse and sliced a piece of broken marble at Maeniel. “Down now,” he shouted, “and have at it.”
Maeniel pulled his horse easily out of range of Gavin’s missiles. Gavin gave up, panting, staring at a laughing Maeniel.
“You believe that, you poor damned innocent. Don’t you?” Gavin said. “Now I understand so many things about you. Things I saw before, but couldn’t work into a shape I could understand.
“God, I remember the way you treated Riculf. Christ, he was sent by that Frankish king Martel to hold the pass. He didn’t understand what he was ruling.” Gavin’s voice rose to a shout, “But you and the others treated him like a god. Now I understand why. You have a …”
“Are you going to say something about dogs?” Maeniel interrupted, his voice heavy with menace.
“I was thinking about it,” Gavin said.
“Revise the sentence,” Maeniel said. “Say, ‘You have the ethics of a wolf.’ ”
Gavin’s mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed quickly.
Maeniel threw back his head and laughed. “Animals. We animals don’t need ethics. We are not corrupt. You humans do. You are.”
Gavin grabbed his horse’s trailing reins. “I can’t see how you’ve lived so long,” he complained as he remounted.
Maeniel dropped the horse’s reins across the withers. He sat, hands flat against his thighs, staring out across the tumbled, green-mantled ruins around him. “I can’t understand that very well myself,” he replied. “I remember when this city was very young. Rome eternal. The center of the world, teeming with people. I hated her, but thought her invincible. Now, I find where Caesars ruled, where her patrician nobles betrayed each other and fought for power, nothing. Nothing, but wind and silence. It’s a shock, that’s all.”
Gavin shrugged. “Wolves have no history.”
“No,” Maeniel said. “I think no words can compass the way we get along together and fit into the world. We worked out our arrangements between ourselves long ago. We have words, wolves do—words for love, chase, kill, fight. For snow, mountain, grass, fire, and star. Those and many others. But we have no words for sin, corruption, and evil. Those are human inventions. When I first changed, my mate said to me—frightened. I didn’t change again for a long time. I didn’t change until I saw some girls bathing in a stream.”
Gavin whistled between his teeth. “It’s as the priests say. Women are our downfall. Lust our undoing.”
“Considering how much you like it,” Maeniel replied dryly, “I can’t think you’re entirely against it. I crouched in the bushes and found myself standing up a man—in both senses.”
“Let me guess,” Gavin said, “they all ran away.”
“All, but one,” Maeniel said quietly.
“Did you turn wolf and eat her?” Gavin asked, leering.
“I wasn’t hungry,” Maeniel said. “And, besides,” he directed a cold look at Gavin, “I was a wolf and wolves don’t kill those with whom we share our bodies. She was safe. I was an animal, still. I hadn’t yet learned human cruelty and perversion. I hadn’t yet learned human possessiveness. Our coupling was gentle and yet, fiercely passionate. I left her safe, sleeping contentedly beside the stream bank. I even stood guard nearby in my natural state, until her people, carrying torches against the fall of night, came and found her there.”
“You were seduced by human love?” Gavin asked.
“Yes,” Maeniel said. “So I was drawn away from the innocence of the animal toward the profound tragedy of humanity. Because your love mirrors the paradoxes of your kind. At worst, a cruelty inflicted without a shred of decency. But, at best, something a poor beast … ruled by laws his ancestors agreed to before the dawn of time, at best, a passion of such sweetness as the beast can never understand. As wolf I obeyed the laws of my kind. When I transgressed them, I know not what god gave me the power to so disobey—I lost my soul.
“Over the centuries, Gavin, I have tried to escape the human in the wolf. I have even tried, once or twice, to escape the wolf among humans. I can’t do either one. Now, I’m facing a choice again. And my mind harks back to the laws that rule me.”
“Maeniel,” Gavin said, “you think too much. What choice?”
“Never,” Maeniel said, “in all the centuries I have lived, has a gift like the silver one been offered to me. The girl at the villa back there calls to my loins, but the silver one cries out in my blood. Whatever debaucheries have been inflicted on her as a woman, as a wolf, she is a virgin. I know it. Virgin and ready for the intimate fire that burns in me as man and wolf. I, alone, can be both to her.”
“Christ Jesus God,” Gavin said, “you must be mad. You don’t even know her name. She may be a slattern, a slut. She may have a husband.”
Maeniel smiled. There was nothing human in the smile, rather an enraged baring of teeth. “What care I? Do you think he will wish to face me as man or wolf?”
“No,” Gavin said, staring at the savage expression on Maeniel’s face. “I wouldn’t. Not the way you are now. Hell, man, why not take both of them. Many a husband—many a man—has.”
“That’s just the trouble,” Maeniel said with an ugly laugh. “I’m not a man. I can’t.” With that, he picked up the reins, put spurs to his horse, and rode away at a gallop.
/>
REGEANE WENT DOCILELY FORTH TO DO AS SHE was told by Antonius and Lucilla. She greeted her men, playing the charming patroness, giving the role just the right touch of fragile innocence. She smiled beautifully and innocently at each of them, offered her hand to be kissed, and seemed to blush on cue.
She asked every man’s name and surprised herself by remembering all of them. She finalized the occasion of the first meeting by giving each of them a ring or brooch from the treasure bestowed on her by Maeniel.
When they filed out of the reception room of the villa and the last passed through the curtains that led to the street, she turned to Antonius and asked, “Well? How did I do?”
“Beautifully,” Antonius replied. “Two or three of them look as though they’d been poleaxed, and the rest are thoroughly bedazzled.”
Regeane looked down and smoothed the soft linen of her outer dress with her fingers. The dress was, as Lucilla had said, tastefully understated. Fine Egyptian linen lightly embroidered with silver at the neck and hem. It had long sleeves so deeply cut they almost trailed on the floor. Under it, she wore a thick silk shift with long tight sleeves, and, under that, a sleeveless linen shift. The outfit left a lot to the imagination. It was hot.
When Regeane had first seen it, she shouted, “Good heavens—the expense.”
“Nonsense,” Lucilla snapped. “Your men must know you are a proper wealthy maiden, and modest. Besides, this Maeniel is paying your expenses now. I don’t think you quite grasp how wealthy he’s made you. There was a king’s ransom in that sack. Whole families in Rome live for years on what just one of those pieces is worth.”
Lucilla then tried to foist off on her a heavy body chain of elaborate wrought gold, telling her such burdensome jewelry was presently all the rage in Byzantium. Regeane dug in her heels. The exchange was spirited. Elfgifa contributed her opinion. “It is very ugly.”
Lucilla was infuriated. “Ugly or not, they’re in fashion and I will not be criticized by the representative of a people who believe proper court attire is a shift covered by shirt, long for women, short for men, held in by a leather belt. So keep your opinions to yourself, young lady.”
The Silver Wolf Page 42
