by Marilyn Todd
In the Voting Hall, two new priestesses were sworn in at the pentagram.
In the kitchens, Ailm picked up a heather broom and started to sweep, defying with a glare any one to speak of her fall.
While a young girl with blonde, almost white hair, mixed scented oils in the Hall of Purification and dreamed of smuggling out a fuzzy-headed young slave under cover of night. If, of course, Connal would have her.
And a young man with a wound in his chest and seascape eyes took the first step towards getting his life back.
'You could have told me Gabali was working for you,' Claudia snapped.
They were standing by the cascade, which, swollen by the storm, came roaring out of the rock, its droplets making rainbows in the midsummer sun. Above the pool, swallows performed acrobatic parabolas and high overhead a black kite cast a silent shadow.
'Yes, I could,' Orbilio said quietly. He was no longer in shirt and pantaloons, but wore his long patrician toga that smelled faintly of rosemary, and his feet were encased in patrician boots. 'But you don't stop, Claudia. You continue to perpetrate these crimes and the bottom line is, people suffer.'
'Rubbish. No one gets hurt by my odd ... indiscretion.'
'Fraud is never a victimless crime, because someone somewhere always loses out, and even if the victim can afford it financially, there's an emotional price to be paid. You have to learn the difference between right and wrong.'
'This was to teach me a lesson?'
He spiked his hair out of his eyes. 'It's not as though you need the bloody money—'
'I'm broke.'
'You're irresponsible, Claudia, that's why! A good accountant, some sensible policies and—'
'Oh, well, if you're going to start talking about being sensible—'
'Stop it.' He spun round to face her and his face was carved out of stone. 'You can't go on making a joke of it,' he said brusquely. 'Sooner or later you have to face up to the fact you don't have the skills to manage a business of this magnitude. Claudia, you have to start trusting people.'
Trust is when the same man is always behind you, to catch no matter how often you fall.
She stared into the torrent. He had always been there. He had always caught her ...
'Once you accept that you need help and put some faith in your accountants, your scribes, your agents, your managers, your business will boom.'
What? And have them screw fifty per cent of the profits? Did she look like she had the word lunatic tattooed on her forehead?
'I'll think about it,' she said.
'Don't think too long,' he growled. 'I can only protect you so far, and believe me, the army is full of hungry young lions eager to make their first kill. That's why I decoyed you out here to Gaul. It took several weeks before I found an excuse in the form of poor little Clytie, but knowing
about your mother's suicide, I knew you wouldn't resist the challenge.'
'Gabali phrased the word challenge somewhat differently, as I recall.'
'Between you and me, I think he rather enjoyed that.' Marcus flashed her a grin. 'But the point is, you and I have to make a decision. We can't go on as we are, and now that you said outright that you love me—'
Something flipped over beneath her ribs. 'I explained that.'
'Yes, you did.' He rubbed his jaw for a count of ten. 'You know your problem?'
'No, but I have a feeling you're going to enjoy telling me.'
'You like being broke. You enjoy living on the edge. You're totally addicted to the thrills.'
'So?'
'So—'
He leaned down, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her until she could hold her breath no more and was forced to kiss him back.
'So take the biggest risk you've ever taken in your life,' he rasped. 'Marry me. What do you say?'
She looked at him, dark and strong, always there, always capable. An honest man, a good man, a man she could trust and rely on. Life in the marriage bed would always be fun, he was handsome and passionate, and sweet Janus, she loved him with every aching beat of her heart.
'What I say is go to hell.' Disentangling herself from a thorn bush would be less painful than disentangling herself from his arms, but she managed. 'You deceived me, you lied to me—'
'I explained why.'
The burn of his lips almost undid her. She scrubbed the memory off with the back of her hand, while her soul had turned to lead.
'Orbilio, if you think the means justifies the end, think again.'
'Sometimes it does, I needed to force your hand, so help me, there was no other way.'
She smelled the sandalwood of his skin, tasted his fresh minty breath. Wanted to die in them both.
'No alternative to lying and cheating? Go to hell!' 'Claudia, no. Don't go—'
His hand lashed out, but she was faster, and although he raced up the path after her, she once was a dancer, remember.
'N-o-o-o,' he screamed as she ran inside the gate. 'For gods' sakes, Claudia, don't do this to me. Don't, please don't, do this to us.'
But she was inside the precinct, where no man may tread. With her hands clamped over her ears.
Around the cave, the spirits hovered like invisible bees, and the bees made honeycombs for young men so that they might wipe off the drizzle from the lips of young women, and then lick their thumbs slowly.
The house of Rumour buzzed with their sound.
