From force of habit, Helena started towards the door. She trusted Aunt Flavia’s judgement.
‘She will learn the truth soon enough, if the goddess does speak to her,’ Zenobia replied.
‘What do you mean…problems?’ Helena stopped and turned towards Flavia. She trusted Aunt Flavia to tell her the truth, however unpalatable. She had never flinched from her duty before. ‘My mother’s death was an accident. You told me that. She chose to go out in that storm. Didn’t she?’
‘She did not want to accept Kybele as the new chief goddess.’ Flavia gave a weary shrug and collapsed into her chair. She motioned for Helena to come and sit next to her. ‘When your mother discovered she was pregnant, she refused to go into the goddess’s lair. She wanted to do everything in her power to keep you safe. She preferred Aesculapius anyway, but we were attacked and lost several triremes. To make peace, Lichas agreed to marry Zenobia.’
‘The sibyl needed a stronger goddess to protect this island,’ Zenobia interrupted. ‘Flavia accepted my sensible suggestion to change the temple’s allegiance to Kybele. Her predictions became accurate and the house of Lichas went from strength to strength.’
‘We quarrelled, Helena. That is why your mother went out in the storm, and I have always regretted it. It is the reason I took you in when others would have left you.’
Zenobia’s cheeks coloured. ‘We have discussed this enough. I accepted your decision. The goddess spoke through you.’
‘Jupiter spared you, Helena. The goddess Kybele protected you that day. She has chosen you for my successor.’ Flavia’s cool green gaze met hers and seemed to bore into her soul. ‘Such a responsibility is not tossed away lightly.’
Helena bowed her head. She could not desert her aunt now. There had to be another way. She had to follow the path she was born for. Too many people depended on her. She shuddered to think what would happen if Zenobia chose another woman. There had to be a way of defeating her and the seafarers.
‘If you say that I am the next sibyl, then so be it.’
‘We must speak, Marcus Livius Tullio.’
At the sound of Helena’s voice, Tullio turned from the window. His heart leapt. She looked as lovely as she had earlier. But rather than rushing into his arms, she stood beyond his reach and retreated as he stepped forward.
He searched her face and saw a new dignity there. Instead of her usual robes, Helena wore the white robes of the sibyl. Her hair flowed down her back and a gold belt was looped about her hips. But even with such authority, she seemed uncertain.
‘What has happened?’
‘My aunt’s illness was discovered.’ She inclined her head but her big eyes looked luminous. ‘I have agreed to become the sibyl.’
A wealth of meaning was in that simple statement. Tullio’s heart contracted. She could not leave the people of this island. Silently he cursed. He should have known that on the turret. It hurt that she had chosen glory. He wanted her, not the symbol. He knew what this could mean for Rome, but selfishly he looked for any sign that she regretted giving up her earlier promise.
‘Does the old sibyl live?’
‘She lives. Aunt Zenobia has insisted on looking after her in her illness.’
Again, Helena spoke in an almost toneless voice, but Tullio knew what such an occurrence must mean to her. For one wild instant, Tullio completed storming the palace, then he rejected it as being suicidal. He needed men and arms. There had to be something he could do. Some way he could help.
He reached out to touch her face, her shoulder, but she moved neatly away as if she were frightened. Tullio’s hand hung in mid-air for a heartbeat and then he returned it his side. Helena’s action told him far more than he wanted to know.
‘Do you need protection?’ he asked in a low undertone. ‘Tell me what you want my men to do. Rome can help.’
‘Rome, it is always Rome. Whenever is it anything else?’
‘My duty lies with Rome.’
‘And my duty lies with my people. It always has done. To think any other way was misguided. I’m sorry. It should never have happened.’
Tullio peered deep into her eyes, trying to understand what she was saying.
‘The offer is there. I want to help you, Helena. Let me protect you.’
‘I have all the protection I need. Androceles has helpfully stationed some of his seafarers here to aid in the transition process.’ She shook her head and indicated the shadowy figures standing behind her.
Seafarers. Pirates.
Tullio’s guts twisted. She’d made her choice. She’d avoided them for so long and now this. She had been content to go with him when she had thought there was no hope of advancement. But she had embraced the seafarer’s offer very quickly.
He had trusted her, and she had betrayed him. He refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much he was hurt. All he knew was that she had spurned his offer and him.
‘I wish you all the joys of your new post. You are well suited for it.’
‘It is something I trained for years for. I hope to be a credit to my people.’
‘I am sure you will be.’
He wanted to crush her to him, and ask if last night’s promise meant nothing. His hands clenched as he hung on to his temper with the narrowest of threads. He had lost her. He had never really had her. There was a great gaping hole in his middle. He wanted to think he could survive this, but he knew his life would never be the same again.
‘My formal investiture will be in forty days on the Calends,’ she said with quiet certainty.
‘Why so long?’
‘It will give me time to prepare, to ensure that I am properly ready to meet the goddess.’
Helena watched for signs that Tullio understood what she was saying. But he stood, forearms crossed, the very picture of the immovable soldier. She wanted him to take her in his arms. She wanted to go back to the closeness they had shared, but it was impossible to speak freely.
She had to trust that he could understand her coded words and that he would help her, but his face looked remote.
She wanted to tell him how she needed him. How much she wanted to leave with him and turn her back on this island but, in the end, how she couldn’t. She had to try to save her aunt and everyone else’s life. She had to try to prevent the seafarers from attacking the Italian coast and harming women and children.
The very walls of the temple had become spies for Androceles and Kimon. Helena knew if she made one mistake, she would be killed before her reign could even begin.
There was no choice. To keep Aunt Flavia alive, she had to become the sibyl. Then to save both their lives, she had to hope that Tullio understood what she was trying to say to him, that he could look beyond her rejection of him to the wider stage and see what had to be done and why.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the seafarers with their crossed arms and curved swords hanging from their belts. She had very little time. He had to understand what she was telling him.
‘I wish you good fortune for that day.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate that. Please think of me then.’
‘If that is what you want…’He bowed stiffly. His voice was colder than the snows on Mount Olympus itself.
Helena’s heart plummeted. He had not understood. He thought she wanted this.
‘I refuse to abandon my people in their hour of need.’
Don’t abandon me, Tullio, her heart whispered. Find a way to rescue me.
‘Easy words.’
Helena stamped her foot slightly. He was deliberately choosing to misunderstand her. She might not have another chance to speak to him in private. He had to understand what she was asking.
‘I wanted to thank you for all your help.’ She emphasised the word help and did not dare look into his increasingly cold eyes. ‘The chiefs of the seafaring houses will be impressed when they arrive for the investiture.’
No response from him. Helena bit her lip. There was no point in making a stand no
w, but surely he could see what she wanted him to do.
A long low blast on a cornu filled the temple and he tilted his head.
‘Another of the seafarers arriving? With goods that don’t come from pirate raids?’
Helena winced. She longed to tell him that she believed him now. She was certain of everything, but there was no time for explanations. The Fates had run out of wool on this particular spindle.
‘The tribute ship has arrived. I hope that all the money will be there.’
‘Down to every last as. My men and I hope to spend no more time than is absolutely necessary on this rock.’ He bowed again. ‘You will give me leave to depart. I must tell them the good news.’
Helena watched him go. She had to hope that when he got beyond the pain, he would see what she had asked.
‘I hope we will meet again. Some time in the future,’ she said, making one last attempt.
‘That, my lady, I sincerely doubt.’
Tullio thanked Jupiter for the familiar weight of his mail coat and helmet. Things to remind him who he was and why he was here. His men were all assembled on the quayside. Not much remained to do and then they’d set sail for the nearest Roman port.
He stared at Androceles with intense dislike. The pirate’s mood had lightened considerably since he saw the strongboxes being unloaded off the trireme.
Helena, with the gold mask firmly in place, stood next to the pirate captain. The wind ruffled her gown, moulding it to her legs. She showed no sign of nervousness or regret.
Tullio regarded her. Why he had thought she’d be different, he didn’t know. She had made her choice. It was quite clear where her sympathies lay.
‘You are free to leave, Tribune,’ Androceles said, testing a final denarius with his teeth and throwing it on the pile with the rest of the tribute.
Tullio raised his hand and started to give the order for his men to embark.
‘Halt! We have a traitor in our midst.’ Helena’s voice cut through the quayside sounds and made every nerve in Tullio’s body tense.
Had she changed her mind? What was her game now? She had played him expertly, but what did she want?
Tullio motioned for his men to keep quiet.
‘You wish to say something, Sibyl?’ There was a contemptuous curl to Androceles’s lip. The respect of a few weeks ago was gone. Tullio could almost bring himself to feel pity for Helena, but she had chosen this life.
‘Yes, I have something to say. Here is the traitor.’
She snapped her fingers and two guards dragged her maid out. Galla’s wrists were chained together and her face bore the bright red mark of a slap. She gave a terrified shriek as the guard made her kneel before Helena and Androceles.
‘I have discovered this woman has betrayed us. She fed the Romans special food, gave them medicine. She has gone beyond what was required by Kybele.’
‘And what do you propose to do about this?’ Androceles asked.
‘I will allow no treachery on this island. No one who fraternises with Romans shall remain here while the purification ceremony takes place.’
Tullio lifted his head and met Helena’s eyes. There was more to this. She was up to something. Why was she getting rid of her most staunch ally? Then he had it. The terrible noble thing she was doing. His insides twisted. She was not trying to punish Galla. She was trying to save her. He grabbed Quintus’s elbow and held him there, preventing Quintus from moving and alerting Androceles.
Galla fell to her knees. ‘No, I beg you, my lady. I repent of my mistake. I swear it. I will never betray you again.’
‘Get up.’ One of the seafarers prodded her. ‘You should have thought of that earlier.’
‘There are other ways of punishing the maid.’ Androceles licked his lips.
‘She goes with the Romans. I will not have her on this soil…not when there is an investiture to plan for.’
Tullio reached out and touched Galla’s arm, raising her to her feet. Her icy hand clutched his.
He glanced at Helena and saw her eyes held a satisfied look before she turned her head.
Utter despair washed over him. He had wronged her. Helena was sacrificing herself to save Galla, to save her aunt. He should have seen this before. What had she tried to tell him before? He winced. She had tried and he had not wanted to listen. He had been so wrapped up in his pride and hurt that he had not paid attention to the hidden meanings.
‘We will take the woman and gladly. Rome does not forget its friends.’ Tullio plucked a handful of gold coins from his arm pouch, and tossed them at Helena’s feet. ‘That should pay for her with interest. Does that satisfy you, Captain?’
‘I’m impressed, Sibyl, at your negotiating skill.’ The pirate captain picked up the coins and ran them through his fingers. ‘Profit before revenge. We will get on well.’
I will return, Tullio vowed silently. I’ve wronged you, Helena. There was much I should have said when I had the chance.
Tullio jammed on his helmet, saluted Helena and marched on to the ship. He did not trust himself to look back.
Helena reached the top of the turret in time to see the last of the trireme disappear over the horizon. She raised an arm and waved.
He was gone. Truly gone.
Her insides were hollow, a great black hole in her middle.
On the quayside she had been tempted to give in to her desires and run to him, cling to him and beg him to take her with him. But she had held back. A coward. She should have declared herself the traitor, and departed.
Tullio looked so different and remote in his armour. If only she had had more time.
Helena swallowed hard. The scene swam before her. She blinked once. Twice. Three times. She refused to cry.
The shouts and sounds from the quayside floated up. Somewhere a goat bleated and a goose honked. Normal sounds. Helena choked back a sob growing in her throat. Nothing would be normal again.
She had never felt so alone, not even when she faced the goddess. Then, there had been hope, expectation. Now there was nothing.
She closed her eyes and thought of Tullio’s last blazing look. Did it mean something?
She made a line on the stone. Day one.
Forty days until her investiture and her next trip into the black cave. Her mind shied away from the black mist. This time, the pirates would surely guess. Fortunata would fail her.
There would be no Tullio to rescue her.
Did he understand the message she had tried to send him?
She had to trust him and to trust Galla. She hated how she had treated Galla, but, if she had known, the maid might have objected. She had had to get Galla out of danger. The Roman centurion would look after her. He had said that he wanted to buy her. Galla was better in Roman hands when the seafarers discovered how much Helena had duped them, when it became apparent that the goddess did not speak to her.
She drew a shaky breath.
Forty days. It wasn’t much time. Helena tried to think how long it would take to get to the nearest Roman settlement and to get the men Tullio would need. If he understood the message. If he would come back to her.
It wasn’t enough time.
It had to be enough.
Helena went down on her knees and prayed for a miracle. On the floor next to her hand a silver disc lay. Helena picked up and turned it over. It was a medal stamped with a laurel crown. Tullio’s? She tucked it into her pouch. This was her new talisman.
She had to believe help would come.
Chapter Seventeen
‘You want to do what? Marcus Livius Tullio, you have lost your mind!’ the tribune shouted.
Tullio tightened his jaw and stared straight ahead, ignoring the receding-chinned tribune. It was just his luck that the prefect for the garrison was away and he was left with this imbecile. He had explained the situation three times already.
There had to be something more. Something he had forgotten. He had to find a way to save Helena and her aunt. He had gone over and over t
he clues that Helena had given him. He should have listened. He should have asked questions then.
‘The pirates are massing for the investiture of the new sibyl.’
‘Are you sure of your information?’ the tribune asked with an arched brow. ‘It hardly seems credible.’
‘I know it for a fact. We can strike a blow at the heart of the pirates’ enterprise.’ He waited for a breath. ‘It is for the good of Rome.’
For the good of Rome. Tullio hated that he had to lie. This was no longer about the good of Rome. It was about rescuing Helena, pure and simple. It was about asking her to take another chance with him. His pride had got in the way. He wanted to rectify his mistake.
There were things he had to tell her. If he had said that he loved her, he was certain it would have made a difference.
‘Tell me the true reason, Marcus Livius. Why do you want to commit the men and the ships? It is not in Rome’s best interest at the moment. There is unrest on the Spanish peninsula, we have problems with Mithridates in the near East. Why should Rome care about the riff-raff?’
Tullio spotted an amphora standing in the corner. From where he stood, he could see a distinctive blue patterning on the top.
He nodded, understanding. The mark of Androceles’s house.
‘Rome does not take kindly to those who traffic with known pirates.’
‘I…that is to say…’ the tribune’s ears grew red ‘…by Hercules, Marcus Livius, everyone does it.’
‘Not everyone, and not everyone trades with a senator’s murderer.’
‘He murdered a senator.’ The tribune’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He bore a distinct impression to a fish gasping for water.
‘I need men and ships.’
The tribune was silent. He made a notation on his papyrus scroll. Tullio forced his body to stay rigidly to attention.
‘I will think about it.’
‘You will do more than think.’ Tullio grabbed the stylus out of the startled tribune’s hand, and forced him against a wall. ‘For six days, you have been telling me that you will think, consider and I need to come tomorrow. But tomorrow never arrives. Guess what? Tomorrow has arrived!’
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