People stepped forward when the flames began to rise, throwing on branches, oils, wine, scarves. I never felt more of a stranger, an alien, than at this ceremony.
Nonna’s old friend Senator Pia Calavia kissed me on both cheeks and looked me direct in the eye.
‘Never a truer or more passionate servant of Roma Nova,’ she said, her voice breaking. She was accompanied by a tall man with grey curly hair and black brows. His Latin was good but accented. ‘We were friends during the time of the rebellion. And afterwards.’ He took time to scrutinise my face, ignoring the people queuing behind him. ‘You are so very like her.’
Senator Calavia said, ‘Come, Miklós,’ and they went together to throw on their libations. His was a red rose, a colour Nonna had forbidden in her rose garden for a reason I didn’t know until her will was opened.
I was thankful when the pile was burnt down. It was fully dark by now, only a thin sickle moon; the burning ground was lit by flame torches in sconces. We sprinkled wine over the embers, calling out our last farewells. By now, I was certain our faces were covered in dirty smuts; my lungs felt full of smoke, in a way full of the essence of Aurelia. Were my tears from the smoke or grief? It didn’t matter. It was enough appropriate display for people shaking my hand, murmuring condolences as they left.
After the last mourner had gone, and Silvia, Helena and the twins were on their way home, I looked around for Conrad. No sign. I pulled Allegra to me; she gave me a teary little smile. As per tradition, we wouldn’t leave until Galienus’s crew had gathered up the ashes and bones. The cold water sprinkled over us by the old priest to purify us woke me up from my near trance. Galienus solemnly presented me with the urn to be interred with the other ancestors and I carried it to the sepulchre proper, bowed and turned away, not able to bear the finality. We left the priest to it.
At least we had eight more days’ respite until the Novendiale when the cousins, close friends and colleagues of Aurelia and anybody who felt entitled would descend on us for the funeral feast. I was dreading it; the idea of people talking platitudes while stuffing their mouths with food and using it as a networking event.
We passed the intervening days confined to the house, no real hardship as the quiet time let us concentrate on mourning Nonna. Allegra had even been given a reprieve from her community sentence for the mourning period. Junia’s team deep-cleaned the house from attic to basement, the priest blessing the mops, brooms and even the central vacuum system.
I told the children about Nonna’s earlier life and service, the rebellion, and about how kind she’d been to me when I’d arrived sixteen years ago after fleeing the Eastern United States, how she’d supported me in my dark days. But I didn’t know if I was comforting them or myself more.
By day eight, Tonia and Gil were bored stupid, no longer enjoying the novelty of being off school and even Allegra had slipped from her perfect daughter role, flouncing out of the atrium one afternoon after a lame remark by Gil.
The ninth day, we assembled in the vestibule, Allegra firmly holding one hand of each twin. I had hoped Conrad might turn up. I hadn’t seen him since we’d burned Aurelia. Allegra and the twins had had text messages, but nothing for me. The car drew up and as Helena and I got the children in, a motorbike raced into the courtyard, parked, and the tall rider walked towards the car with a familiar cat-like grace. Oh gods! I swallowed hard. Not a scene. Not now. Please.
‘Room for one more in the front?’
The smile he directed at the children faded as his gaze reached me. It was hard, but neutral. I guessed that was an improvement. Under his leathers, he wore mourning dress, so we all set off for Nonna’s tomb like an average unhappy family on their last day of formal mourning. After a brief ceremony where a number of cousins joined us, wine and savouries were passed around. We toasted Aurelia and said final farewells.
Conrad rode back with me, somehow parcelling off the children to other relatives’ cars. I wasn’t going to start anything, so I stayed silent.
‘You can’t sulk forever, Carina.’
‘I’m not the one sulking. You may have forgotten, but I’m mourning my grandmother. I’m entitled to be quiet.’
‘Now she’s gone, we have something more serious to deal with.’
‘How can you be so callous?’
‘She’s gone. She’d be the first to tell you to get on with things.’
I remembered Nonna’s words. All of them. I swallowed hard. We were just coming into the city limits.
‘What do you want, Conrad? You’ve got ten minutes, unless you want to come in?’
‘Don’t you want me to sit by your side during the bun-fight?’
We were expecting nearly two hundred for the Novendiale funeral feast. Normally, I would have dreaded it without him there.
‘Of course, I want you there.’
‘Well, let’s call a truce for today.’
I hadn’t realised we were at war.
XI
Dalina packed up and went home to her own family, the last of the long-distance cousins departed and the house was quiet again. Allegra refused to do anything special for her fifteenth birthday; I asked if she wanted to go out with her friends someplace, but she preferred to read, swim and mooch around the house. She still had a week to run on her community service and said she wasn’t in the mood for celebrating. She showed me a text she’d received from Conrad and later that morning signed for a gift delivered from him. We looked at the box, exchanged glances, then she picked it up, took it to her room and came downstairs after ten minutes without saying anything.
I went back to work a week later. I had to get grounded in my normal life. At least here it wasn’t shifting under me all the time. Or so I thought. I dropped my side arm in at the guard office and got a strange look from the duty sergeant.
‘Something wrong?’
‘Nothing really, ma’am.’ But her eyes said something different.
‘Spill.’
‘Well… it’s just that your access code has been suspended until further notice.’
‘Because?’
‘No reason given.’
‘I see.’ I couldn’t see anything. I was too furious. How dare he?
‘Putting it back in now, Colonel.’ And she tapped on her terminal.
‘Thank you. I think it must be a system error.’
‘I think so, too, ma’am.’
I stomped upstairs, into my office then flung myself in my chair. As the screen flashed up, I stared at my schedule with horror. I tapped frantically and within seconds Lurio’s face looked crossly out of the screen at me.
‘What?’
‘Morning.’
‘Humph.’
‘You still have that little tart there. Nicola Sandbrook?’
‘Ah!’
‘“Ah” what?’
‘You won’t like this.’
I shut my eyes and waited for it.
‘She’s calling herself Nicola Tella. Says her father told her to.’
‘I don’t give a shit what she calls herself.’ That was a huge lie, but I wasn’t going to admit anything in front of Lurio. Had Uncle Quintus approved it then?
‘Her hearing comes up in six days’ time. Apart from the first three days, she’s been a model prisoner. Mitelus has brought in Claudia Vara as her brief.’ He snorted. ‘She’s as bloody annoying as ever.’
So it was for Nicola that Conrad had visited Vara the same afternoon he’d said goodbye to the dying Aurelia. Nice. Vara was hard-hitting and tricky with problems of her own. If I remembered correctly, she’d had two reprimands from the Legal Guild for borderline misconduct plus the complaint I’d made against her seven years ago through the Family Codes Court. That had cost Livilla Vara, her family head, a five thousand solidi fine. So we had history.
‘How long will Nicola get?’
‘Depends on who we get rostered as magistrate, but if proven, I reckon five. That’s what we’ll push for.’
‘Sertorius will s
ort Vara out. See you in court.’
*
Sertorius reassured me and Allegra that it was a formality. He had the girls’ statements, Michael’s affidavit, and the reports from my ART’s surveillance operation. Solid case.
Nicola was escorted to the defendants’ bench by the court officer. She looked around, completely composed, paused at Allegra, half-closed her eyes then passed on to me where she stopped for a few instants. Her eyes were like tiger’s eye stones. Unbelievably, she tipped her chin up at me in challenge.
She took her time walking up to the bar to hear the charges. The demure look on her face made me want to throw up. She looked at the magistrate as if she were a wounded pet, nodded briefly and put her hand to her eyes as if to wipe tears away. But from the side, I caught the tiny smirk. Allegra glanced at me, furious; she’d seen it, too. The magistrate shifted in his seat and coughed. His harsh features softened when he looked at Nicola. It was as if she was running the court – they all seemed in thrall to her. Conrad sat behind her, where he’d supported Allegra a few weeks ago. I nearly choked when he looked across at me; his eyes were so accusing. What right did he have to look at me like that? He was the one that had deserted us.
Vara picked at everything, but couldn’t dent Sertorius’s case. Allegra gave her evidence, hesitating, but not giving a centimetre under Vara’s vicious cross-examination even when Vara tried to make her out to be an unnatural sister. Allegra, her face pale against her black mourning, retorted that no natural sister would try to get the other killed.
Some bad fate had allocated the same magistrate that had heard Allegra’s case, but the evidence was solid. Even he couldn’t dispute that. Allegra’s hand had mine in a steel grip as we waited while he consulted with the two auxiliary judges. Hands flying, head bobbing in staccato movements, he was hammering some point home. They looked dubious, but from his mime he seemed to overrule them. A hard glint shone out of his eyes set deep in his wrinkled face.
‘We find the defendant guilty as charged.’
Thank the gods!
‘But several attenuating circumstances impact my sentence, leaving aside the fact that the chief witness is herself convicted recently of a misdemeanour. Not that that should sway us in this case, of course.’
Sertorius jumped up to protest, but the magistrate waved him down.
‘The defendant is foreign-born, ignorant of what is an offence here, so some leeway must be allowed. Secondly, a guarantor has stepped forward to support and guide her future behaviour. Lastly, unwarranted in my opinion, and possibly illegal, heavy handedness has been used against her by law officers.’
Lurio sat impassively, but the muscles on his face tightened.
‘One year’s community service, level 2.’
A gasp ran through the audience. Then the courtroom exploded; talking and shouting, not least from the newsies, ramped the noise up. Allegra’s face went white; she swayed on the bench. She looked as though all the air had been sucked out of her. I held her for a few moments while she caught her breath and steadied herself. Red hot anger rolled up through me and my head started thumping.
I watched as Conrad guided Nicola out of the courtroom, curtly nodding to Vara on the way. A loud rushing noise filled my ears and I fell back, crashing on to a bench. I covered my face with my hands and cried. I cried my heart out, I cried for Allegra, for Conrad, out of frustration, but most of all for Nonna.
*
I sat in the atrium for a long time after dinner that evening, nursing a glass of Nonna’s favourite French brandy. She would have had plenty to say on the court case, especially about the way Conrad had leaned forward and whispered into Nicola’s ear, put his hand on her shoulder and helped her through the crowd. I wondered for a moment if there was any insanity in his family. Sure, the Tellae had rotten olives like every family, but more the conspiratorial, power-seeking types. Like Caius Tellus who’d married Conrad’s mother and three years after her death launched a coup, overthrowing and killing Imperatrix Severina, Silvia’s mother. I shuddered. Quintus rarely talked about it, too raw, I guessed; Caius was his brother. Within eighteen months, Caius himself had been deposed and executed and Quintus set about repairing his own and Conrad’s lives.
I had Marcella make some discreet inquiries at Domus Tellarum; she had contacts there, not surprising given our families had been connected for over fifteen years. She confirmed my suspicions; Conrad was living there now along with Nicola. Marcella looked at me gravely as I asked her to make a formal request for Quintus Tellus to call on me, one family head to another. I sure as hell didn’t want to go there and run into Nicola. I might not have been able to control myself.
Quintus turned up the next evening, in a black business suit, flanked by two of his family officers, one of them the recorder. No problem, I’d taken the precaution of having Dalina and Crispus Mitelus with me. Quintus limped across the atrium leaning on a cane. I’d seen him at the funeral in a blur along with the other Twelve Families’ representatives. Only two years younger than Nonna, he was the last of old Countess Tella’s direct living descendants apart from Conrad. And she’d been old when Aurelia was a young woman. A strange family in a way, without direct female heirs for much of their history; old Tella had inherited from her father.
I kissed Quintus on the cheek, giving him both hands, then invited him to sit in the one of easy chairs. The others I ignored.
‘I’m sorry for dragging you out in the evening, Uncle Quintus, but it’s very important we talk.’
‘My dear Carina, I’m remiss in not calling on you before to pay my formal mourning visit. A touch of sciatica.’
Some kind of pain in the fundament, I was sure.
‘Aurelia was one of my oldest and dearest friends as well as political colleague,’ he continued. ‘I feel a strong tree has been cut down, leaving less of a shelter in this cold world.’
His face betrayed his age, crumpled almost, cheeks sagging as if the muscles had given up.
I reached out and touched his hand. ‘I know. I do know.’
He gave me a wry smile. ‘It doesn’t make it any better, does it?’
‘Not a stitch.’
‘So how can I help you, Carina?’
‘I need to talk one-to-one. Let’s have my people take yours for a coffee.’
He said nothing for a minute or two. I waited. The only movement was his recorder stepping forward and whispering in Quintus’s ear. Quintus looked up at him, looked at me and shook his head. The recorder tried again and Quintus waved them away. Dalina and Crispus led them to sit at the other side of the atrium, where they could keep us in view and ensure I didn’t beat up on Quintus.
I leaned forward. ‘How is he?’
‘Confused and upset.’
‘I’m not surprised, with that little tart working on him.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you really hate her that much?’
‘Hades, Quintus, she tried to kill Allegra.’
‘Are you sure? I mean, they were stupid and irresponsible, but—’
‘For Juno’s sake, even that malicious little bastard of a magistrate found her guilty.’
He sighed. ‘Yes, unfortunately, I fear you’re right.’
‘You do?’
His fingers travelled up the back of his other hand and played with the silver link in the white shirt cuff.
‘I’ve seen them all in my lifetime; the innocent, the crafty, the triers, the tough, the manipulators and the plain cruel. She’s in a class of her own. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was Caius all over again.’
‘Gods, that’s exactly what Nonna said just before she died.’ The tears welled in my eyes, but I refused them an exit. ‘Tell me.’
‘Caius used his clever manipulation skills in every part of his life. He oozed charm and confidence. His hard work guaranteed our mother’s approval and she was delighted to open political doors for him.’ His fingers curled. ‘I was his victim since we were children. He was only
three years older than me and like many brothers we shared a bedroom. When he started touching me, I tried to keep out of his way. During the day, our tutor was there most of the time. But I was terrified at night. Caius would slip into my bed and—’
Quintus looked away, his eyes seeming to focus on something a long way distant. ‘You can imagine the rest. If I didn’t lie there and take it, he’d thump me and then kiss the place better.’ He flinched at the memory. ‘I pleaded with him to leave me alone, but he laughed. My mother didn’t have a clue. She thought it was boys’ rough and tumble. My father tried to stop him hitting me, but got nowhere. Caius slithered out of every attempt to restrain him.’
He stared down at the coffee table for some moments. A sour taste filled my mouth and I rubbed my throat to try disperse it.
‘I recovered when I ran away at twelve to live with my father,’ Quintus continued, ‘something my mother never understood. She thought me rather dull, a plodder, in comparison. She just shrugged the day the court gave Dad custody ‘for family incompatibility’. He snorted. ‘Dad and I kept out of his way. When Caius started on Conrad years later, I thrashed him, I nearly killed him. I wish I had. He’d married Constantia, charmed her away from Conrad’s father, Richard, who was a good man. She died three years later, “of natural causes” they said.’ He shook his head. ‘She was thirty-two.’
I was riveted; fascinated and repelled at the same time.
‘The public history is well known. I won’t bore you. For some reason, after our fight, he left me alone, even during the rebellion. That was more frightening than being one of his victims; I never knew when, or if, he was going to pounce. But to the day of his execution he didn’t see what he’d done wrong. He was completely amoral. He’d killed Imperatrix Severina Apulia, a nice woman if a weak ruler; he would have got Silvia if the PGSF hadn’t got her away to New Austria. He wrecked the country, brought misery into so many lives. People were starving and terrified, the economy had plunged and the old vigiles police force had become brutalised and corrupted. It was hellish.’
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