‘I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.’
‘I am not concerned about explanations. You are too lenient with the Romans. That is quite clear. My father and Zenobia agree with me. Measures must be taken.’
‘And what did you do?’
Kimon’s eyes gleamed. ‘I made them fight and when they could fight no more, I beat them. It is what you should have done.’
‘These men can barely stand up.’ Helena gestured to the three would-be escapees. ‘If they are beaten further, they will die.’
‘Let them.’
‘They are human beings.’
‘These are Roman scum.’ Kimon dusted a speck from his cloak. ‘You undertook to keep them safe for my father. Next time, do not make me do your job for you.’
Kimon turned on his heel and left the room.
The groan from one of the bundles brought Helena to her senses. She called for the guards to take the injured men to the hospital. Her whole body felt numb.
How had this happened?
It gave Androceles the perfect excuse to insist on stationing his own guards. How could she refuse now, when the temple guards had proved to be so inept? And once that happened, it would be only a matter of time before her deception was uncovered and the true state of the sibyl was revealed.
What had seemed such a beautiful morning had turned blacker than night within a few breaths.
What had been Tullio’s role in everything? She had trusted him. Had he just used her?
Helena bit down on her fist, willing the cries not to come.
After checking that the escapees’ wounds were being treated, Helena made sure she was occupied with tasks that took her as far away from the Romans as possible. She did not want the slightest excuse to visit them. No doubt she would have to face Tullio at some point, but for now, the sense of betrayal was too new and too raw.
She had to take refuge somewhere and the storeroom stocked high with the seafarer’s tributes appeared the ideal place. Above all, it served to remind her why the seafarers were important to this island and why the islanders could not live without them.
Helena paused in counting the jars of olive oil. They would need more than twice that number if they were to make it through the winter season. She wrote down the number and compared it to last month’s figure. If they went down to four lamps on the main altar, instead of the usual ten, that would save a considerable amount. The amphorae of liquamen, the fish sauce used in cooking, were down as well, but Androceles had had the amphora of Falerian wine delivered. Absentmindedly, she tapped the stylus against her teeth.
‘My lady, a word.’
She turned and Tullio stood in the doorway. He started forward. Helena grabbed the tablets and held them in front of her like a shield. She contemplated skirting around the large amphora of oil and making a somewhat undignified exit.
He shut the door to the storeroom with a quiet click. His face had more planes and hollows than this morning. She remembered the taste of his lips, his skin.
She closed her eyes.
All the time he was kissing her, his men were escaping. It was nothing but a sham. He had used her.
An awful thought struck her.
Had Pius been bribed? Was the whole seduction an excuse to betray her trust? She had thought he wanted her and all he had done was cynically use her. Aunt Flavia was correct. All men, seafarer or Roman, were alike.
He took a step closer and his sandal crunched a piece of pottery. Her eyes flew open to see his hands were outstretched. She stepped to one side, bumping the top of her legs on the rim of an amphora.
‘How dare you! I gave strict orders!’
‘We need to speak.’ He continued his advance. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Her treacherous body delighted in it. ‘I want to explain. You should hear me out.’
‘Explain what? Your men escaped.’ She forced a harsh laugh from her lips and turned away, rather than look into his eyes. If she looked there, it would be tempting to look for some reason to forgive him. She refused to forgive him. ‘You gave me your word, Tullio.’
‘Are you saying that I had something to do with what happened out there in the harbour?’
His hand grabbed her shoulder and attempted to turn her around. She shrugged it off.
‘Encouraged them, led them. Those men are soldiers, Tullio, they do not act without orders.’ She slammed her fist down on the amphora’s cork lid and enjoyed the thump it made. ‘I know that much about the Roman army and its ruthless efficiency.’
‘Will you listen to me! I knew nothing about the escape attempt. If I had, I would have stopped it.’
‘Why should I believe you?’
‘Because, unlike the pirates, I don’t lie.’ Tullio pointed to the amphora of Falerian wine, his eyes narrowing to slits of molten black. ‘You asked for proof that the seafarers raided. There it is. That Falerian wine bears the mark of my ex-wife’s husband. It was stolen the night of their murder and none has appeared on the market.’
‘We’re not discussing raids. We’re discussing your men.’ Helena crossed her arms in front of her. Her stomach turned over. She had no doubt Tullio told the truth about the wine, but that did not excuse his behaviour. She refused to be distracted.
‘I’m asking you to believe me.’
‘Are you asking me to believe that your being away from the temple had nothing to do with the escape? You kept me in that cave for a purpose. You seduced me for a purpose. Now I know what that purpose was.’
She heard the sharp intake of breath. If she listened, she could hear his heartbeat. Every nerve tensed. She wanted to hear that she meant more to him than a diversion, that he had spent the night with her because he had wanted to.
‘What do you take me for?’ His hand closed on her shoulder, refused to be shrugged off and forced her to face him. ‘More importantly, what do you take yourself for?’
A terrible coldness filled Helena. Tullio had betrayed her. He had given her his assurance that his men would behave. He had given her his word, but he was a Roman like any other. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, and it took all her hard-won training not to collapse into a heap of tears.
‘What did you hope to gain with this sort of behaviour?’ she asked in a low whisper.
He held out his hands, palms upwards. His face was the picture of injured innocence. Her heart twisted. She had believed him. She wanted to believe him now. That was what hurt. If he could give her an explanation and tell her it was a terrible mistake, she’d run to his arms.
‘Jupiter’s beard, are you saying I had something to do with this unholy mess?’
‘They are your men, and you knew they had escaped.’ Helena forced the words from her throat. ‘You knew before Kimon came here. You knew when you took me into your arms.’
The room went still and cold. Helena fought to draw another breath. Silently, she urged him to tell her that he had known nothing, that it had been as big a surprise to him as to her, that he would never have sanctioned such a foolhardy mission, that he’d waited to see if they’d return. That she meant something more to him than a conduit to the sibyl.
‘You knew,’ she repeated.
‘Yes, I knew they had escaped.’
The chasm between them opened. She felt alone and cold. She drew her shawl tighter about her. This was the end.
A look of anguish passed over his features. He reached out towards her and then changed his mind, raking his hand through his hair.
‘I swore that I would not lie to you, Helena. Before Kimon arrived with my three men, I did know they had made an escape attempt, but—’
Helena covered her ears with her hands. She knew he was still speaking. That did not matter. What mattered was that he had not sought to warn her. He had come back, taken a bath, come to her room and taken her in his arms, never saying a word about the escape. He had known.
No matter how he tried to portray it, he had betrayed her. She had
believed in him, and he betrayed her.
‘I warned you what would happen if they tried to escape.’ She poked a finger at his chest. ‘Do you know what danger these men have put the temple in? Everything my aunt and I have worked for over these past years gone!’
His hands drew her into his arms, held her against his chest, his strong arms like bands of iron. She struggled briefly, then stood still.
‘I was trying to tell you what had happened when we were interrupted,’ he said into her hair. ‘If the guard had not called you away, I would have told you. I wanted to make sure you heard the news from me first.’
Helena shivered. Her body wanted to lean into him. She broke free of his grasp.
‘You should have warned me. You gave me your word. You had a duty to obey your promise.’
‘My men felt they had a duty to escape.’
‘That is no excuse. I trusted you.’
‘And now?’
‘Why should I?’
He gave a military salute. Gone was the man who held her gently, in whose arms she had woken, and in his place was the perfect soldier, upright, unyielding, single-minded in the pursuit of Rome’s glory. ‘I will rejoin my men.’
Helena stared at the place where the men had lain. All she could see was Tullio’s body, broken like those three. Had he known about the escape plan? Was that why he had attempted to keep her away from the temple? And all she could do was worry that one of those bloodied bundles might have been him.
‘You have taken your time, niece. I had expected a report of the damage before now. The wind and rain kept me awake for a long while last night. Tell me what has happened.’
Helena pinched the back of her neck and stared at her aunt, who was seated in a woven chair. Her snow-white hair was gathered at the back of her neck. She wore plain white robes tied with a gold belt at the hips. Other than the slight drooping of her right eye, her aunt looked as healthy as she had the day before Helena had found her. Several scrolls lay by her side. The box containing the sibyl’s mask was on the table in front of her.
‘There were things I had to attend to.’ Helena shifted from sandal to sandal. She did not want to reveal the real reason that she had avoided meeting with her aunt—her aunt’s eyes were too sharp, too likely to guess what had passed between her and Tullio.
‘I understand you spent the night out on the mountain.’
‘I went looking for Niobe. I thought she might have become trapped by the storm. You know how she hates storms.’
‘It is commendable you wish to look after the innocents, but did you ever consider that there are others under your charge? We have had this discussion before. The temple must come first in all things you do. And here you have hopes of becoming the sibyl when my powers desert me.’
Helena traced her toe along the mosaic flooring. Aunt Flavia was right. She always was. Even here, confined to her apartments, she knew more about what was going on in the temple than Helena did. Aunt Flavia already knew about the escape. The way Tullio had duped her. She had given him her heart, her trust and he used her.
He had to have known when he came to her in her room. It was all an illusion. Her mouth twisted. Everything was an illusion.
‘At the time, I only thought of Niobe and the danger she was in. After the thunder and lightning started, I knew I had to take shelter. There was a flash flood and I had to wait for it to subside. We…that is, I came back as I quickly as I could.’
Aunt Flavia inclined her head. She placed her scroll on the small table and raised her gaze to meet Helena’s.
‘At least you showed more sense than your mother.’
‘I trust and pray I learnt the lesson of my mother’s death.’
‘And what was that?’
‘The gods are not to be tempted.’ Helena looked straight ahead at the frieze. The words took her back years. How many times had her aunt drummed that particular lesson in her head? Too many. ‘You should not mock the gods. You must only ask when you can be sure of them answering.’
‘Ah, some things I attempted to teach you have made an impact. There have been times that I wondered.’
‘Uncle Lichas returned just before the storm hit. His trireme is damaged.’
‘Word reached me.’
‘Zenobia would like you to perform a re-dedication service.’
Her aunt sat, her brow furrowed with concentration. Helena waited and willed her to succeed. Her aunt lifted her right hand and tried to make a fist. She allowed the hand to fall back on her lap. ‘Annoying things.’
‘Be patient, Aunt Flavia. You will be able to perform the ceremony.’
‘There is much you don’t understand, Helena.’
‘I’m trying, Aunt. There is much you’ve hidden from me.’
A lop-sided smile crossed her aunt’s face, but her eyes looked distressed. Helena awkwardly patted her aunt’s shoulder. Comforting the older woman was something new. Aunt Flavia had never been one for sentiment or comfort. As a child, whenever Helena had banged a knee or bumped an elbow, she had gone to Galla for hugs and cuddles.
‘I shall have to tell the seafarers of my infirmity. I understand what you have tried to do, but it is the only way. Too much has happened, Helena.’
‘We’ll find another solution. You are too important.’
Her aunt’s smile widened and became genuine. ‘You already have many things to think about. I fear my recent illness has become a burden.’
Helena knelt down and caught her aunt’s hand. So small and frail, more like bird’s claw than a hand.
‘You are not a burden. You are the heart and soul of this temple.’
Her aunt stroked Helena’s head and she started at the unaccustomed gesture. She reached up and touched her aunt’s withered cheek.
‘Aunt, what should I do about the Romans? My uncle and the other chiefs are sure to demand swift punishment, but these men have been beaten and have been returned to the temple’s care.’
‘Your care.’
‘My care?’ Helena stared at her aunt. Those men were not her sole responsibility. They were under the temple’s protection. She had thought that her aunt would have a sensible idea about how she should behave. ‘How can you say that?’
‘You were the one responsible for bringing them here. You are now the one responsible for making that decision.’
‘But what should I do?’ Helena could hear the pleading note in her voice and cringed. Her aunt had taught her to stand on her own feet. And now, facing her first major test, all she could do was beg for guidance and help.
‘Your heart will tell you what to do. When in doubt, I always find it useful to listen to my heart. It is where the goddess speaks.’
Her aunt closed her eyes and Helena knew she had been dismissed. She hesitated, and wondered if she should confide in her about Tullio. She pressed her lips together. This was one burden she would not share.
She waited until she heard her aunt’s soft breath. Then she walked with quick steps towards the hospital and, she hoped, some sort of resolution.
The stiflingly sweet scent of incense intermingled with acetic acid assaulted her nostrils. The three would-be escapees were there, battered, bruised but alive. One of the acolytes glided over and gave her an account of what they had done for the men.
Helena expelled a breath. All the men should live. The question was what to do with them. They had already been beaten. It would be weeks before they would walk properly again, she was certain of that.
Chains?
If they couldn’t walk, how could they escape? She hated the sight of chains, but probably it was the only option. Something to show her uncle and Captain Androceles when they called in the morning.
It was a blessing they had not called before now, but she had to assume checking the status of guests was far down the priority list. But once they had finished assessing the damage, then their attention would turn to the temple. Helena shivered and drew her shawl tighter about her body.
&nb
sp; ‘Helena,’ Galla called in a low voice. Helena turned to see Galla sitting on a low stool next to the most badly beaten of the Roman soldiers. ‘This is all my fault.’
‘How so?’
‘I…I told Quintus to go to the harbour…to look for you and to see what the commotion was about. I showed him the secret way the sibyl uses. I was so worried about you.’
‘Why wasn’t I told this earlier?’ Helena stared at her maid in disbelief.
‘I was afraid. I…I had gone to look for them when Androceles arrived.’ Tears streamed down Galla’s face. ‘If I had told you earlier, then none of this would have happened. The seafarers are going to station guards in the temple, aren’t they?’
Helena felt sick to her stomach. The men were innocent? They had been searching for her? Oh, Kybele!
‘Galla, you should have told me earlier. Something could have been done then.’
‘She lies,’ the figure on the pallet croaked out.
He struggled to raise his body on his elbows. Galla tried to get him to lie back down. Impatiently he pushed her away. Galla gave a little cry and covered her face with her hands.
‘Your maid lies. This was my fault and mine alone.’
Helena moved closer. Her heart started to thump in her ears. She wanted to believe the centurion. She knew she was grasping at slender pieces of wool, but she needed hope.
‘What are you saying, centurion?’
‘I wanted to escape. I thought I could. Galla knew nothing about it. Tullio forbade it, but I would not listen. I planned it. I slipped out and placed that shawl. Your maid has nothing to do with it. We were going to attempt to escape that night. I had it all planned.’
‘Where did you get the shawl?’
‘I stole it when that girl came to see Tullio. He has befriended her and was trying to teach her to speak.’
‘And Galla had nothing to do with it?’
Quintus shook his head, but he reached out, captured Galla’s hand and brought to his lips, then released it.
‘In my stubbornness and pride, I thought that I knew best,’ Quintus said. ‘I was wrong. My eyes were on the grass crown and other honours, not on my duty. If you must punish someone, punish me. Your maid was innocent. I used her. And I cannot let another take responsibility for my actions.’
A Noble Captive Page 20
