Perfiditas

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Perfiditas Page 19

by Alison Morton


  Silvia touched my arm. She smiled and mimed that we should go.

  Outside in the corridor, she turned to me. ‘Come back in the morning. She wants to see you. Conradus caught her, but she knows it was you who faced Petronax so bravely and led the rescue.’

  ‘I thought I’d killed her. I tried so hard to reason with that madman. But ideologicals are rigid, almost impossible to manipulate—’

  ‘Shush! Stop being so angst-ridden! I know.’

  I gaped at her. She was the mother who’d seen her child on the brink of death, the ruler who’d nearly lost her second heir, but her eyes were full of sympathy for me.

  She looked straight at me, her brown eyes hardened into agate, and lips set straight as a mailbox slit. ‘I am as bound by the covert protocol of Strategy 8 as the operational leader is. If you’d been compelled to let Hallie go, I’d have been compelled to accept it.’

  I swallowed hard. I couldn’t come close to imagining how difficult her life must be on these occasions.

  As if a switch had been thrown, she shifted personas. She smiled warmly and took my good arm. ‘Come on, drink. I certainly need one and you look as if you do, too.’

  She brought over two crystal glasses with generous measures of dark gold liquid. Before I swallowed the first drop, I had to ask, ‘Silvia, where’s Conradus? I must go find him. Climbing along that parapet in his condition must have exhausted him.’ I set the glass down and stood up.

  ‘Sit down, Carina. He’s resting, probably asleep now. I told the doctor that as soon as he’d finished with your people, he was to check Conradus.’ She sipped her brandy. ‘I hope Caecilus gave him a strong sedative. Conradus was an idiot to go up there, but…’ She looked at me gravely. ‘It finished years ago between us, and he is still a good father to the children, but I’ll never be able to forget that he gave me back Hallie tonight.’

  We swallowed the rest of our brandies in silence.

  An attendant came in and whispered in Silvia’s ear.

  ‘Ah! Of course.’ She turned to me. ‘You’re wanted in the Operations Room?’ She raised an eyebrow.

  ‘The Red Dining Room,’ I smiled.

  ‘Well, I hope they haven’t trodden muddy boots all over the Aubussons. The French Ambassador will have my hide if they have! When you’ve finished, go and sleep in the Antonia Suite. They’ll wake you up in good time to see Hallie.’ She smiled in dismissal, lent over and kissed me on both cheeks. I stood up, bowed and set off back into the chaos.

  XXIV

  ‘Glad you could join us.’ Daniel greeted me at the doorway. I saw lines of exhaustion and stress around his eyes, but a certain peevishness in his expression. He leaned in to me. ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘Yes. And?’ I cocked my head and threw some attitude at him.

  He didn’t bite. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Fast asleep, sucking a plush rabbit.’

  We sat around the table in the Red Dining Room. I’d glanced at the floor and seen that somebody had taken the Aubussons up. In real life, setting up a temporary command centre doesn’t happen like in Hollywood films where they all dash in shouting and stomping around. It’s more like a quick and efficient office fit-out. Furniture and rolled-up rugs had been stacked against the walls, utility tables and workstations set up in the required pattern, commsnet installed within minutes by the electronics group. Nobody shouted, rushed or clucked about nervously. The whole machine glided into place, operators slid into their seats and it was all up and running in under thirty minutes.

  Now the Strat8 operation was terminated, natural order was back so, as senior rank, Major Daniel Stern took the head of the table. I sat at his right, ignoring Lurio opposite me, the fit members of my ART clustered around the rest of the table. The guard commander sat on a chair at the side with one of her sergeants, along with a medic of some sorts and a support service staffer. They all looked dishevelled in one way or another, except Flavius who, irritatingly, never seemed to look untidy or dirty, even when crawling around in mud. How did he do that? He’d just shrugged when I’d once asked. He sat there, drawing aimlessly on a clean pad of paper as if he was at a PTA meeting.

  ‘Report,’ Daniel pounced on me.

  ‘The objective is achieved – Hallienia Apulia is safe and under protective guard. She is resting and I will speak to her in the morning. Petronax is dead. No fatal casualties on our side: four injured, three with gunshot wounds, all good prognoses.’

  ‘Very well. Full written report on my desk within forty-eight hours, please.’

  ‘Sir.’ I groaned inwardly.

  ‘Commander?’

  ‘Perimeter held, diversions successful, no casualties.’ Lurio kept his voice neutral. I didn’t know how he had the balls to look me in the eye after trying to blow my head off.

  ‘I would value a copy of your report, please,’ Daniel requested, a distinct frost in his voice.

  ‘Of course, Major, my pleasure.’ Lurio smirked.

  ‘Guard commander?’

  ‘Nothing to add, sir. We’ve stood down to orange level. We’re doubling, but with no known threat.’

  ‘Thank you. Medics?’

  ‘All evacuated and team stood down,’ came a neutral answer.

  ‘Support service, let me know when you finally clear the site, please.’

  A nod.

  Daniel looked round. ‘Any comments, observations?’

  Nobody cared to make the obvious one.

  ‘Very well. Find some food and get cleaned up and rested. Back on duty at 18.00 tomorrow. Thank you, everybody – a good night’s work. Dismissed.’ And that was that.

  I nodded to Paula, Treb, Nov and Flavius to come with me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel watching us. I thought he might come over but I badly wanted to speak to the others alone. Luckily, the support service guy ambushed him.

  ‘Through here,’ I whispered, and led them along a couple of corridors and into a small service room off the atrium.

  I perched on the edge of the table. The others took up position around the walls of the tiny room and waited.

  ‘So what really happened?’ I demanded.

  Paula and Flavius did the obvious thing and exchanged glances. The others looked down. Nobody spoke.

  ‘Somebody draw the short straw and dish, please,’ I said.

  I saw Paula shrug as she volunteered. ‘The boys were positioning the safety net and lifting the platform to snatch the child and bring her down. I was readying the lines and harness at the fourth-floor window for Livius to come in that way if he had to. But the platform held, he reached the parapet and shot Petronax.’ She looked at me, carefully evaluating my reaction. ‘Couldn’t really miss at that range,’ she snorted. ‘Petronax looked stunned already.’ She turned to me. ‘Was that you, Bruna?’

  ‘Yes, I was showing him a new way to breathe directly into the lungs.’

  Good diversion attempt, Paula, I thought.

  But Nov chimed in, spoiling Paula’s hard work. ‘The next thing we knew, he’d lost his balance, landed in the nets at an angle, and flipped off into the garden.’

  ‘Lost his balance? Sorry?’ Livius was one of the most agile soldiers I knew.

  ‘I rather think he was surprised by what he found on the sub-parapet,’ added Flavius.

  ‘In what way surprised?’

  I was momentarily distracted by Paula and Flavius doing that eye thing again.

  ‘It was the legate,’ Novius blurted out.

  Flavius’s mouth turned down in disapproving lines, and Paula frowned at Nov. Silvia told me Conrad had caught Hallie before the shot that killed Petronax.

  ‘What was the legate?’

  ‘Bruna, you’re not going to like this,’ Flavius started.

  ‘Yes, I have that feeling. Just say it. I’m tired and hungry and don’t have the whole night.’

  ‘Very well. The platform lift had taken Livius almost up to visual level, when he suddenly saw the legate on the sub-parapet. He’d crawl
ed out from a service access. Livius signalled him to stay still and silent. But the legate stood up and mouthed “Jump” at the child, which she did.’

  I closed my eyes and nearly stopped breathing.

  ‘He caught her and clung to the building edge. We’d dismissed it as far too dangerous for the child – it’s not even a metre wide. Livius stood, made the shot and crouched down. He was spitting anger like Vesuvius. He mouthed something to the legate, shook his fist and arm. The legate’s arm shot out and, the next minute, Livius was crashing down into the net then bounced off into the roses.’

  I flicked a speck of dust off my arm sling. A mistake. Caecilius’s shot was wearing off. The whole arm was acutely sensitive, and pain washed through it.

  ‘That’s it?’ I asked calmly.

  The four of them looked surprised and relieved. Really, I doubted I could say anything printable at this point, so I didn’t.

  Operating on automatic, I saw the others off on their way back to barracks in the long wheelbase and checked with the medics about Atria, Maelia and Livius. I also had them give me another shot for my arm. Noble suffering is such a crap idea when you can have it relieved. The problem was it made putting one foot ahead of the other in a forward motion a lot tougher.

  At the Antonia Suite, near to Silvia’s own apartments, I fumbled with the silver handle and opened the door. I’d despised the pastel insipidity when I’d stayed before, but tonight it was soothing. Emerging from the short hallway, I heard a background hum but saw the main room was empty. With hardly a moment to process anything, or to decide what to do next, I was interrupted.

  ‘Good evening, lady. My name is Petra. I have prepared a bath for you and something to eat.’ She looked like somebody’s mother – efficient, caring, anticipating. She led me into the enormous, warm bathroom, peeled all the dirty and torn clothing off, not blinking at the knife holsters at the back of my waist or the sharp blades in them. She gently removed the sling and helped me into the bath. She washed me as if I were a five-year-old. The water was so soothing I didn’t want to leave the warm cocoon, but somehow I was sitting on a chair, wrapped in towelled luxury, having my feet rubbed.

  I sagged with tiredness, but I couldn’t give in before I’d seen Conrad. Shuffling along to the third bedroom, I eased the door open, but it scuffed over the thick carpet. Conrad didn’t wake. Lying on his side, one arm, still bruised but now with a few more surface scratches, lay outside the comforter. He was snoring lightly, from the effect of the medication, I guessed. The skin was sunken over his face bones, and brown shadows surrounded his eye sockets. I pulled the cover over his arm, and bent over and kissed his forehead. He didn’t stir.

  Back in the living room, Petra made me swallow some soup but I couldn’t hold up much longer. Half asleep, I was led into another bedroom, fell into bed and dropped into blissful nothingness.

  The next morning, I woke up groggy and heavy-eyed. It felt like emerging from a pit of liquid lead. I wiped my eyes and blinked at the morning sunshine suffusing the room. Who had opened the drapes? I grunted and turned over into the soft, thick comforter. Right onto my shot arm. That woke me fully. I stretched my legs. Big mistake. My whole middle section felt like a soggy, sore lump of wood. Hades.

  ‘Cup of tea?’ Petra stood at the side of the bed, steaming mug in hand. I saw her more clearly this morning. She was all brown – eyes, hair, dress. But the concerned look was the same as last night.

  ‘What’s the time?’ I didn’t have the least notion.

  ‘It’s still early, just before seven. Caecilius will be along in fifteen minutes to see about your arm. I’ll make some breakfast for you in, say, half an hour?’

  I nodded, my head still heavy with tiredness.

  The doctor dressed my arm, gave me a shot and fussed around. He made me drink another cup of the malt and ginger restorative, which I had to admit tasted good. Petra eventually booted him out, gently bullied me into eating a mountain of food, and extracted the infernal dye from my hair. I watched the brown-stained water and solvent foam disappear down the plughole. The final trace of Pulcheria vanished along with it.

  I pulled on a robe, flicked my damp hair behind my ears, and shuffled along to the far bedroom. Conrad’s hair was damp from the shower. He was in his robe eating breakfast at a small table, watching the morning newscast like it was a normal day. How could he sit there so calmly? He looked around slowly, deliberately. His thumb on the remote cut the television.

  ‘Hello,’ he said and stood up.

  I couldn’t reply – I just walked into his arms which closed around me. As I hugged him, he winced. I pulled back and searched his face. He looked a lot better than I felt.

  The bruises had dulled to faint yellow patches; in between, a healthy pink was showing. The puffiness had receded around the eyes – I could now see their normal tilted shape – and his mouth had healed leaving a vertical scar.

  He kissed my forehead and gave me a lopsided smile.

  I couldn’t work out where to start, what to say. I knew he’d risk anything to save any of his children. He loved them all, unconditionally. But he’d risked himself and Hallie unnecessarily, and it was a miracle Livius wasn’t dead. Whatever his feelings as a father, he knew as a commander he’d made the wrong decision to go up on that parapet.

  I didn’t say anything, just looked at him. His smile faded and a dull red spread across his face under my steady gaze. Maybe my expression showed my thoughts. Eventually, I said it. ‘You were wrong.’

  His face closed up and all softness disappeared. He raised his head to look down his nose at me. He looked awkward, caught in an impossible situation. ‘The operation was successful. That’s all that counts,’ he said tersely. ‘How we did it is irrelevant.’

  Crap. He was going to pull rank. I pressed my lips together. I was too angry to speak. He was being incredibly unfair, but I’d have to swallow it. But it didn’t stop me glaring at him.

  The sun was climbing the sky, throwing its bright light into the room, but none into the space between us.

  ‘I’m going to see Hallie,’ I said.

  I paused by the door.

  ‘What really bugs me is that you didn’t trust us to rescue her. You’ve always said to keep the personal out of operations. It’s the Roman way, you said. This time you failed spectacularly. Great example.’

  XXV

  Hallie was sitting up in bed, eating porridge. Eew! Silvia had been raised by a Scottish nurse, then an English tutor, so was happy to indulge in this kind of stomach-churning practice. I would opt for eggs and bacon any day.

  Hallie’s face broke out in a smile when I came in. How glorious to give somebody such pleasure. ‘Auntie Carina!’ she shrieked.

  I was humbled by the intensity of her feeling. I hugged her fiercely. I loved her so much. She was such an open and friendly child, a reflection of her mother’s nature. That she oozed charm came from Conrad.

  She looked me over, disappointment plain on her face. ‘Why aren’t you in your uniform?’

  ‘Well, princess,’ I began. Her eyes rolled at that. I grinned back. ‘I got a little messy, running around the roof garden chasing the bad guys, so I had a bath and a change of clothes.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re wearing a dress!’

  ‘It’s a very nice dress,’ I protested. Dark green silk, shot with gold and a gold belt, gold earrings and fine leather gold sandals. Petra had also part-braided my hair and drawn up it into a chignon. She’d passed make-up brushes and pads over my face in a few rapid strokes and fitted me with a clean white mesh sling. ‘I think it’s one of your mother’s, so it must be all right.’ I grinned.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ she said. Then she went quiet and looked down.

  I looked her full in the face. There was never any point dodging the issue with children. They could always spot a phoney.

  Her brown eyes met mine after a few moments. ‘Thank you for saving me,’ she said in a thin, stricken voice. Juno! If Petronax weren’t alread
y dead, I’d beat him to death for the hurt his vile actions had put on this child.

  ‘Darling, I’d do it again ten times. He was a very nasty man.’

  She looked glum.

  ‘Do you know, Hallie, I was really scared of him, but I kept thinking of you being brave on that ledge. So, you see, I couldn’t let you down.’

  ‘Were you really scared?’ She stared at me with wide eyes.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ I paused. ‘I’m sorry if that’s spoiled any illusions you had about me!’

  I tried to keep it light. And then the surprise in her eyes changed to something else more lively. She winked at me.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘I won’t tell Papa, if you won’t.’

  ‘Phew! That’s a relief – I don’t want to lose my job. Okay, deal.’

  We clasped forearms to seal our bargain, hers barely reaching halfway along mine, but she had a firm grip. She looked at me with a mischievous grin, and we both burst out laughing.

  I registered my exit with the guard commander who gave me a speculative look. I was a little too polished, I guessed. Conrad had gone straight to the barracks, so Silvia arranged my ride back. I would have happily caught a lift with the next vehicle going down the hill into the town, but her new Mulsanne was pretty neat so I sat back and enjoyed its luxury. What would happen if anybody put a muddy shoe on the cream leather seat? Probably have their foot chopped off.

  Driving through the home park and out through the palace gate, I worked out my immediate plan: sneak into the barracks, dive down to the locker room and change, visit the guys in the infirmary, grab a quick meal in the mess room, and start the infernal report. I might even find some time to chew over some of the other problems I had lining up.

  Good plan. Too bad it didn’t reach the starting block.

  At the PGSF barracks gate, I turned my face to the screen, spoke my name and stretched my hand out to the bioscan reader. A tiny beep replied and the gate swung open.

  To my surprise, a full guard complement was on duty. I thought we’d reverted to orange level. Why weren’t they training? They had plenty to do on that front. To my surprise, Lucius the adjutant came down the steps to meet the Mulsanne as it glided to a halt with my door precisely at the midpoint of the lowest step. A guard leapt forward and whipped my door open.

 

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