The Warrior's Princess

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The Warrior's Princess Page 46

by Barbara Erskine


  ‘OK. I found him.’ Carmella came through from the kitchen. ‘He is on his way.’

  ‘How long will he be?’ Jess stared up at her in a panic.

  ‘Not long.’ Carmella sat down beside her. ‘Don’t worry, Jess. You will be all right. Dan can’t get to you now. We are all here.’

  ‘No! You don’t understand. It’s not Dan. It’s just –’ She clutched at Carmella’s arm. ‘Please, you have to look for me. Now, before he comes. What happened? What happened to Eigon? Did she escape? Where are your cards? Did you bring them?’

  Carmella shook her head. ‘No, Jess, I didn’t bring them.’ She scanned Jess’s white face. ‘Leave it now, eh? You’ve done as much as you can. You know enough. Protect yourself, Jess. Leave Eigon to the past.’

  ‘I can’t! Don’t you understand? I need to know. It would only take you five minutes. Please.’ Jess snapped her fingers suddenly. ‘I know!’ Before Carmella could stop her she ran through into the kitchen. Margaretta was standing at the table chopping zucchini. She looked up in astonishment as Jess erupted through the door.

  ‘Please, I’m sorry. Can I have a bowl of water? Here, this will do.’ She seized the empty salad bowl off the table and ran to the sink. Half filling it with water she carried it back next door, leaving her hostess open-mouthed, staring after her. ‘Here. Look in here. You said water would work as well as your sfera di cristallo.’ She put the bowl down on the table, slopping water over the polished walnut surface.

  ‘Jess –!’

  ‘Go on, quickly before Will gets here. Just look. Please.’

  Behind them Margaretta appeared in the doorway, drying her hands on a cloth. She looked mildly put out at having her bowl snatched from under her nose.

  ‘Carmella?’

  Carmella glanced up. She muttered something quick and incomprehensible. Jess ignored it. ‘Go on. Look. Please.’ She glanced up. A taxi had pulled up outside the house. ‘Two minutes. Before he comes in. Please, Carmella!’

  Carmella sighed. She leaned forward over the bowl, pushing her hair back from her face with one hand as she leaned closer looking deep into the water. She was there. The enigmatic face from the past, staring back. She could see the woman’s features, the veil over her hair, the bright intelligent eyes, watching Carmella as Carmella was watching her.

  Jess had scrambled to her feet and ran to the door as Will appeared. ‘Wait. One second.’ She put her finger to her lips. ‘Just one second.’

  Will stared over her shoulder at Carmella. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘She’s just checking something for me.’

  Carmella sat back abruptly. Whoever this was, it was not Eigon. She shook her head. ‘It’s no good, Jess. I’m sorry. I can’t do it like this. I can’t concentrate. Nothing is coming.’

  ‘But I have to know.’ Jess could hear herself. She sounded more and more pathetic.

  ‘I will look when I go home, Jess. I promise you.’ Carmella climbed to her feet. She walked over and put her hands on Jess’s forearms, holding her firmly. ‘Now you go with Will. I will ring you, I promise. As soon as you get home we will be in touch. I will do this tonight when it is peaceful and safe and I can concentrate. Now go and get your things.’

  ‘Have you told him where to go?’ Jess said wearily as they settled into the taxi.

  ‘I’ve told him.’ Will sat back with a sigh. He closed his eyes with a groan. ‘I thought I’d lost you again.’

  She bit her lip. Part of her was still in the front room at the pensione peering over Carmella’s shoulder into the bowl of water. There was nothing there. Carmella was right. Just a swirl of restless patterns.

  ‘I rang the airline this afternoon,’ Will said as the taxi hurtled through the streets. ‘We have seats on the last plane out to Stansted tonight.’

  Jess gave him a wan smile. ‘I’ve been a pain, haven’t I. I’m so grateful, Will. You’ve been my knight in shining armour.’

  ‘Have I?’ He shrugged.

  ‘You know you have. You put your life in danger for me.’ She reached across and kissed him on the cheek.

  He put his arm round her. ‘Glad to have been of service.’

  He left his arm there as the taxi wound its way through the suburbs. ‘Have you thought what you are going to do when this is all over?’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t see beyond it somehow.’

  ‘We can’t just leave it. We must go to the police The man is a serious menace. He’s dangerous, Jess.’

  She bit her lip. ‘There is no proof, Will. None at all for any of it. Even if you tell them what he did to you, I bet there isn’t any evidence. Your bruises – you could have got them by falling, just as I could. No one saw it happen, did they. And the drugs he gave you. Have they left any traces? Even if they are still there in your hair or somewhere, you can’t prove he did it, can you? And the worst I could claim is that he has been stalking me. I suppose you could all be witnesses to that. But even then there are no CCTV pictures, or phone calls. Nothing. He only has to deny it.’

  ‘Are you going to let him go back to school next year as though nothing has happened? You expect me to work alongside him?’

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  ‘So, what can we do?’

  ‘I don’t know, Will.’ Their faces were very close. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. ‘Jess.’ She didn’t move so he kissed her again more firmly this time. ‘I was such a fool, Jess. We should never have broken up.’ He reached to cup her face in his hands, staring deep into her eyes. ‘Jess?’

  She shook her head, drawing away from him. ‘I’m sorry, Will. I can’t. Not at the moment. Not after everything that’s happened.’ She turned away from him, staring hard out of the window at the blur of passing lights. The sun had set and it was growing dark.

  He sat back with a sigh. ‘Of course. I’m sorry. Stupid of me.’

  ‘No!’ She turned back. ‘No, Will. It’s not stupid. It’s wonderful of you. It’s me. I just can’t respond at the moment. I’ve switched off somewhere deep inside me. I’m sorry!’ She was fighting tears.

  The taxi driver glanced in the rear view mirror and pouted sympathetically. He had seen it all before so many times. Didn’t matter what nationality, what age. Not even what sexes these days. L’amore was hell! ‘La Via Appia Antica,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘See? Ancient Roman road.’ He said it to every tourist leaving Rome on this route for Ciampino.

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to love anyone ever again.’ Jess had turned back to the window, her voice tight and painful. ‘Not after what he did.’ The straight narrow road between high walls was floodlit by the taxi headlights. She shivered.

  Will’s face set in a grim line. ‘He’s going to pay for this, Jess. One way or another, I swear it.’ He reached for her hand. ‘I’ll still be your knight in shining armour. Don’t ever think you’re alone, will you.’

  She gave a wistful smile. ‘I know. Thank you.’

  They checked in and made their way straight through into the departure lounge. Only once they were there did Jess stop glancing over her shoulder at the teeming crowds, expecting to see Dan at every moment.

  Will managed to find them somewhere to sit. ‘Are you OK?’

  She nodded. Exhaustion was beginning to take over. Her eyes were closing and the sounds from the TV monitors mounted below the ceilings had faded away. She was still in Italy. Why in God’s name wasn’t she trying to contact Eigon? She glanced at Will. His eyes were closed. She could do it now. Summon Eigon from the past. Ask her what had happened. Closing her lids she took a slow deep breath, trying to relax. Nearby two people were laughing loudly. She half-turned away from them, hunching into the chair. ‘Eigon?’ she murmured. ‘Where are you?’ She screwed up her eyes, looking inwards, searching the darkness inside her head for pictures, but nothing came.

  ‘Eigon?’

  She sat up suddenly and stared round. Had she called out loud? She glanced at Will. He seemed to be
soundly asleep. Settling back again she closed her eyes once more. She tried again to picture the house, the bright sun-filled rooms around the various atria, the sound of tinkling water from the fountains; Drusilla’s bright laughter, never intrusive, never insensitive after the terrible events that had passed but so much a part of her personality that it seemed to follow her wherever she went; Eigon discussing with her and Peter the route they were to follow; Commios busying himself with arranging the passes and collecting the money they would need for the journey, the items to go in the panniers of the mules they would buy once they landed in Massilia.

  They would have spent a long time praying with Peter. They would have sat at his feet and listened to his instructions and his wisdom and his stories about Jesus. Jess scrunched up her eyes even tighter, trying to conjure them from the darkness. Nothing happened.

  She dozed.

  It seemed like only seconds later when she was woken by Will. He was shaking her shoulder. ‘Come on, Jess. They’ve called our flight.’

  ‘No!’ She stared round. ‘I can’t go yet.’

  ‘What do you mean you can’t go?’ He had stooped to pick up his rucksack. He turned on her. ‘Please don’t do this, Jess.’ He sounded very weary.

  ‘I don’t know what happened to Eigon –’

  He groaned. ‘If I never hear that name again it will be too soon. Forget it, Jess. You’re coming with me now.’ He picked up her bag and held it out to her. His face was thunderous. She took the bag meekly. ‘I should go to the ladies.’

  ‘Wait till you’re on the plane.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘No buts, Jess. This is it. We’re going back to England.’

  Dan stretched out on the bed and opened his eyes, slowly taking in the room with its torn ugly wallpaper, its cheap battered furniture and the threadbare towel hanging on the rail. He’d had to pay extra for that and soap. He had checked in late last night in the cheapest hotel he could find near Termini. All he wanted was a good night’s sleep on a horizontal bed. He scratched reflectively. He had been bitten by something in the night. Serve him right for not being more choosy. He glanced at his watch. It was early still but the noise from the street outside was growing louder by the moment. He could smell the traffic fumes through the crack in the window which he had left open last night as he tried to clear the fug of cigarette smoke from the room. He washed, redressed and left.

  He found a café open. A black coffee and he was beginning to feel more human. He sat back in his chair and stuck his legs out in front of him. What to do next? Go and find Jess. He pictured her in that cushy little pensione with its beautiful antiques and its rooftop bedrooms and he scowled. Whatever it was she had summoned to chase him out he would be ready for it this time. It wasn’t real. Titus could deal with it. He sighed and ordered another coffee. He was a fool to have left her and now he had to move fast before the police got the chance to interview her. Mind you, she had no credibility left anyway. They wouldn’t believe her. But they might just wonder. If there was some bloody female feminist person interviewing her they might decide to follow it up just because they hated men. And whatever they did, it was going to damage him. He gave a tight determined smile as he stood up and headed for the door. Time for Jess to give way to her paranoia and top herself. Walking out into the sunshine he gave a snort of amusement. Where was Titus when he needed him? It was time to work out just how she was going to do it. He and Titus could discuss it on the way back to the pensione.

  Titus was waiting for Lucius. The man was late. He stamped his feet a couple of times, walking up and down the room slowly, growing more and more impatient. Surely he’d got the message? He needed him this morning, not next month. He swung round and did another length of the room, aware that some of the other officers were eyeing him warily. They were distancing themselves more and more from him, he knew that. And he knew why. Word of the massacre at the farm had spread. Not that anyone cared one way or another about a bunch of renegade Christians, but the way it had been done seemed to have shocked them. It had been a private matter, a vicious, very personal vendetta but it had involved the killing not just of slaves, who loved this new religion, but also of women and children and several Roman citizens and that made it different. He wondered if he was going to be interviewed by a tribune praetor. If so he would bluff his way through it. In the meantime there was one more person to catch. The only person he really wanted. And he knew where she was. All he needed was for Lucius to call at the house, speak to Drusilla, who, wonder of wonders turned out to be a distant cousin, and he would be in. But Lucius still hadn’t come.

  ‘Sir.’ A timid voice at his elbow stopped him in his pacing. He swung round. ‘Sir, a message.’ It was a boy, one of the stable lads. He proffered a tablet on which was scribbled a note. Sorry. Can’t make it. On leave until calends next month. L

  Titus swore viciously. He aimed a kick at the boy and hurled the tablet into the corner of the room. ‘Bastard!’ Lucius had double-crossed him. He didn’t want any more to do with him. Leave, indeed. He had no leave planned. He must have gone to the legate to swing this one. Well, he would pay. He would see to it that every person in that house was arrested. Including Drusilla! He looked round for the boy. He had fled. The other men in the room strode purposefully one by one towards the door and left. Yet again he found himself alone.

  The raid was carried out by a cohort of the Praetorians. Titus did not go with them. They returned to their camp disgruntled. They had found the house empty. There was no one there, not even a slave. They reported to headquarters that they had been given duff information and moved on to scour another quarter of the city. The trail had gone cold. Titus walked down the street looking thoughtfully up at the shuttered windows. He had to find her soon. He did not have long. If she told her story to anyone it might get out. Whoever and whatever she was now, she had been the daughter of a king. Interest would be directed towards him. He sent a spy out to the villa to see if she was there. The place had been left empty. Aelius and Flavius had taken anything they could carry and disappeared into the night. The Emperor’s men had taken everything else. The horses and anything else saleable had been put up for auction. The rest had been taken away on carts. The house was awaiting a new tenant. The gardens were growing over with weeds, the orchards were bare, in the autumn winds the fig trees had shed huge flabby leaves all over the courtyard.

  Titus sat for a long time after he received the report, deep in thought. Then grimly he rummaged in his money chest and drew out a bag of coins. He took out a handful, thought swiftly and added some more, before throwing a cloak over his uniform and striding out towards the city centre. He was going to find Marcia Maximilla. She was clever; she was beautiful; she was greedy; she was famous. She was a seer. She could, if she chose, find Eigon for him without moving from her couch.

  29

  With a jolt Jess awoke. She clutched the armrests in a panic, wondering for a second where she was, then reassured by the drone of engines remembered. She glanced sideways at Will. His seat was reclined, his eyes closed. Looking down out of the window she could see nothing.

  Closing her own eyes again she sighed. In barely another hour they would once again be back in England and her chance to follow Eigon’s story would be over.

  Unless.

  She willed herself back into Eigon’s past, picturing the house in Rome, its peaceful atmosphere, its warmth, its elegant shabbiness, the people around her, the gentle kindnesses of Drusilla, who made sure she was alone when she needed peace to pray, and that she had company when she needed to talk, the fierce determination of Peter as he rallied them from their misery and led them in their communal prayers, the decision to leave Rome, the hasty procurement of passports, the raising of money to pay their way. But the detail wouldn’t come. The pictures had stalled. The characters waited for her to put words into their mouths. Turning her head to stare once more out into the darkness she felt herself near to tears. ‘Where are you?’ she whisper
ed. ‘Please. Show me.’

  As waves slammed against the decking, soaking the hard-reefed sails, the passengers huddled below decks in terror. Some dozen people had taken passage with the trader, laden with supplies for the occupying legions, heading for Massilia in Narbonensis on the southern coast of Gaul, little realising that they were heading out into the first of the autumnal storms which had suddenly out of nowhere raked across this narrow stretch of sea. Drusilla was prostrate, groaning with the others over evil-smelling buckets. Commios looked round searching for a sign of Eigon.

  He found her on deck, clinging to the shrouds, staring out across the white-topped rollers. Her eyes were shining, her hair, torn free of its combs, whipping round her head like so many ebony snakes. He came to stand beside her. ‘The captain has commanded everyone below deck.’

  She turned to him. His words had been snatched away and she couldn’t hear them above the roar of the waves. ‘Isn’t it wonderful? I didn’t know anything could be so exciting!’ Water streamed down her face; her clothes were soaked, clinging to her like a second skin. He grinned. He couldn’t hear what she had said, but he got the gist of it. It was wonderful and wild out here, away from the stench and the wails of the other passengers, and if the boat foundered it was better surely to be up here under the sky, part of the storm, rather than below, trapped in the wooden box which could so easily turn into a water-logged coffin.

  ‘How far now?’ she cried.

  He shrugged. Either he hadn’t heard her or he didn’t know. They had been out of sight of land for so long it was impossible to gauge their progress. For all he knew they were drifting backwards towards Ostia, or heading out across the Mare Tyrrhenum towards Carthago or Hippo Regius. The journey was supposed to take two days, two and a half at most. He tried to count the number of times the sky had gone dark and gave up. Just so long as they did not end up back where they had started. He had seen the weight fall from Eigon’s shoulders as they left the Roman mainland behind. With it went her fear of being pursued. He and only he had been told by Peter of Titus’s single-minded vendetta. He had sworn to keep it to himself but it meant he would keep an eye out until they were truly safe. Her excitement was infectious and he found himself laughing with her as a fresh smack of water hit the deck near them and they were soaked yet again.

 

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