“On my life, I will do it,” he promised.
Taking Placidia by the hands, squeezing them to get her attention, Gigi leaned in and spoke forcefully, “Listen to me! We can’t stay here. We have to go to the children. Sergeric is behind this and he will kill them next.”
Placidia’s eyes went wide and Gigi yanked her away. Together, they ran to the nursery, arriving to find the door open, the room empty. Where were the kids?
Placidia just stared, her eyes vacant.
Gigi turned at the sound of hurrying footsteps and brandished her gun. Vana! She quickly put the gun away and hugged her. “Where are the children?”
“I heard the commotion and got them to the chapel for safety. The bishop was there, and he took them inside.”
The three women hurried to the chapel and found the entry barred. Gigi banged on the door and yelled, “Bishop, it is Gigi. I’m with Queen Placidia and Vana. You must let us in. We are not safe out here.”
The screech of the iron latch brought Gigi profound relief. The door swung open, and she hustled Placidia and Vana inside. As the bishop bolted the door once more, the children started screaming at the sight of Placidia’s blood-soaked dress.
The queen burst into tears as she looked down at herself. Vana ran to hold the smallest ones, who were hysterical.
Gigi did a quick head count. Seven kids. Thank God!
• • •
Frantic to reach the king, Magnus could not get the upper hand against Africanus. The man was his equal in strength and fighting prowess.
Victoria, I beg you! End this now!
He adjusted his grip on the knife and stepped sideways, keeping Africanus watchful, uncertain.
“Victoria strengthens this arm!” Magnus bellowed, desperate to get to Athaulf. He drove at Africanus again, this time connecting solidly with the man’s thigh, just as Africanus reeled and hit the side of Magnus’s skull with the flat of his blade.
Stars erupted before Magnus’s eyes. Dizzy and breathing hard, he collapsed, but immediately started forcing his mind, arms, and legs to obey. He rolled onto his side, and then struggled to his knees, commanding his eyes to focus, to no avail.
Africanus’s face was deathly pale, and he whimpered in pain. His leg wound was deep, blood spurting from a huge gash.
Magnus rose and stumbled toward Athaulf’s chambers, not caring that Africanus would soon bleed out, if he wasn’t already dead.
He felt nauseous and weak, his vision blurry. Too much time had passed. He knew he had failed to save the king. Gigi, where are you? He stumbled on.
He reached the corridor leading to the royal chambers. It was empty, the door open. There were no guards. Where in Hades was everyone?
Holding his knife before him, Magnus blinked hard, trying to clear his sight. He moved inside the anteroom, then through the door to the bedchamber.
Ye gods. Gore was splattered, pooled, and smeared all over the floor, Athaulf’s bath red with his life’s blood. Unsteadily, Magnus stepped to the balcony and was relieved to find it empty. He turned and tripped over an empty bucket, then stumbled forward.
Cursing, he spotted something he’d not noticed before, a trail of blood going out the door.
Fear pulsed the air, shook him to full attention. He gathered himself and followed the trail, hoping he would not find Gigi at its end.
• • •
It took several minutes before Gigi and Vana could get the kids quieted. The whole time, Placidia stood mute, still as a statue, and clearly in shock.
Gigi heard the bishop ask, “Your Majesty, are you injured?”
When Placidia didn’t respond, Gigi looked at the bishop and said, “That’s not her blood. There’s been fighting, and … ”
Placidia opened her arms wide. “Oh, my babes! Please hold me. I need you all in my arms.”
The children hesitated, staring at her blood-stained gown.
“Mama, I’m scared,” Marga whimpered.
Vana slipped her outer tunic over her head. “Please, Your Majesty, cover yourself with this.”
Gigi and Vana quickly slipped the garment over her head and soon the kids started inching forward.
Weeping softly, Placidia sank to her knees and gathered them to her, rocking, moaning, and drawing comfort.
Moved, Gigi wondered if the queen would be able tell them about their father’s death. She couldn’t imagine a more horrible task, and turned way, steering Vana and the bishop to one side. “This is not over. We are still in grave danger, especially the children.”
Vana gripped Gigi’s arm. “Tell me how I may help. I will do anything for them.”
“Right now, I think we should guard the door and wait for Magnus. I won’t trust anyone but him.”
The bishop stared hard at Gigi. “You’d not trust the king?”
“No one will ever hear his voice again.”
Vana’s eyes filled with tears. The bishop made the sign of the cross over them and began to pray. After a moment, grieving, Vana moved off to comfort Placidia and the children.
Grim-faced, the bishop glanced at the queen. “She was able to be with him … at the last?”
Gigi nodded. “They prayed together. They were able to say their last goodbyes.”
Wails suddenly erupted from the children, raising the hairs on Gigi’s arms. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes. The poor kids. How would they go on without their father? Who would protect them?
Magnus. Where was he? Oh, God, please …
Suddenly, Gigi heard running outside, then frantic knocking.
“Help, help, they’re after me! Help!” a woman pleaded.
The bishop moved to lift the latch, but Gigi stopped him. “Only Magnus, trust only Magnus!”
He looked at her, incredulous. “Can you not hear? It is a woman’s voice. I cannot allow some innocents to be saved, while others are sacrificed.”
He indignantly pushed Gigi aside. Startled, she toppled, hitting the ground hard. The latch went up in a flash, and someone dashed in, wielding a blade. Gigi reached for her gun just as the intruder’s blade came down on the bishop. Blood sprayed, and Gigi fired, sending the assailant sprawling.
Gigi’s ears rang, but she could still hear everyone’s screams. Heart thudding, she scrambled to her feet and checked the bishop. The gash on his head didn’t look serious, only a glancing blow, but it was bleeding profusely, and he was out cold.
She turned to inspect the assailant and recognized the mimi. Furious, Gigi swore at their stupidity. Miserable bastard! A large pool of blood was spreading from underneath his body, every ounce he’d possessed draining onto the floor.
Eyes wide with terror, Placidia scrambled over to the bishop. “What just happened?” she asked Gigi.
With complete clarity, Gigi realized exactly what had happened. This guy would’ve been the children’s murderer — not Sergeric — regardless, she’d just changed history.
She raised Placidia to her feet and looked her in the eyes. “Never mind what I did. Please, you must listen to me. It’s Sergeric’s mimi and he came here to kill the children. I told you before, Sergeric wants to wipe out Athaulf’s bloodline.”
Placidia gasped. “We must get them out of here — get them to safety!” Taking Gigi by the shoulders, she frantically added, “We must run! We must save the children.”
“Placidia!” Gigi sensed she had a small window of opportunity to get this right, and needed a moment to think. She wrapped her arms around the queen and pulled her close, rocking her, as Placidia had rocked the children. “I think if we run now, somebody is sure to track us down. We’d only be putting off the inevitable. We have to make them think they’ve succeeded. Do you understand?”
Gigi felt the slightest nod against her shoulder.
“There’s enough blood to convince anyone,” Vana quietly offered. “Do you think if we hid the dead man, perhaps — ?”
“Oh, Vana, that’s perfect!” Gigi said, grasping at the edges of a plan. “If we get him out of here, and take the children with us, they’ll be safe, but someone has to tell the bishop they’ve been killed, their bodies disposed of. I know it will be horrible, but Placidia, to save the children you must stay behind and tell everyone they were murdered.”
The queen blanched at this, but Gigi shook her head. “Only you can do this.”
Placidia stared at Gigi, and then took a deep breath. “I understand.”
Gigi hugged her. “Take off Vana’s tunic. It’ll be more believable if they see your bloody gown.”
After this was done, she and Vana moved to the grizzly body. Vana grabbed the legs, and Gigi grabbed under the arms. When they lifted him, more blood poured out. Vana slipped in the gore and crashed to her knees. As she struggled to regain her footing, Gigi wondered how they would accomplish this. The mimi was surprisingly heavy and would be awkward to carry any distance.
Gaila hurried to their side and pulled off her palla. “Wrap him in this, like a shroud. It will be easier to carry him,” she said, then turned to her older brother. “Beremund, you are the strongest. You must help.”
Gigi glanced at him and saw the frightened fourteen-year-old shake his head and try to look brave. “I’ve been in training, and I’m nearly a man. I’m staying to fight.”
Before Gigi could say a word, Placidia was holding his face in her hands, her voice shaking with intensity.
“My sweet boy, you are brave, a good son. Your father would be so proud of you, but you cannot stay! They are killing your father’s bloodline, and that puts you at the top of the list! Please understand, you must be alive to avenge your father. You must go, for now, and live to fight another day.”
Beremund bowed his head, his expression bitter but resigned.
After kissing his brow, Placidia took each of Athaulf’s children in turn, speaking to them, hugging them. While the queen did this, Gigi and Vana worked furiously to wrap the assassin’s body. When they were done, Gigi looked up to see Placidia holding little Marga in a fierce grip.
Gigi went over to them just as Placidia said, “I love you, my Margareta. Remember that always. Every night, I shall give you a thousand kisses in my … in my dreams.” Her voice caught and she looked up at Gigi, her eyes welling. “Promise you won’t let her forget Athaulf and me. Promise.”
Gigi nodded, realizing Placidia had already guessed she might never see the children again.
“Tell her about me every day,” the queen insisted. “And … do you recall what I told you about burning of letters?”
She nodded. “I will have Marga write them to you, and I’ll send them on, Placidia, I promise,” she said, without adding the rest about death, smoke, and heaven.
“Be happy, Mama,” Marga said, touching her mother’s tears, then hugging her tightly.
Placidia tried to smile, but her face crumbled. “Oh, Marga, my sweet babe!” She broke down and sobbed. “Return to me! You must, you must … ”
Marga started to wail, and Placidia hugged her until the little girl finally quieted, exhaustion setting in. “Keep her safe,” the queen said as she tearfully handed Marga to Gigi.
Holding the child, Gigi barely held herself together as Vana and Beremund picked up the corpse, as Gaila herded the younger kids out the door. They passed through the bishop’s rooms and out his private exterior door, leaving Placidia to play her part.
Before the door closed, Gigi heard the queen’s voice rise in wails of anguish. She knew Placidia wasn’t playing a role for the sake of the bishop, or anyone else.
Gigi wished she could tell her grieving friend what the future held, that she would find a reason to live — two reasons to be exact — but this was not the time or place for such a revelation.
Once outside, she, Vana, and the children moved as quickly as they could, keeping to the darkest shadows of Barcino’s back alleys.
After a few blocks, breathless and exhausted, Gigi gave Marga to Gaila and panted, “We must stop and think.” She glanced at the corpse, the wrapping stained with blood. “Put him down.” She needed to figure out a way to get rid of the body without anyone being able to trace it to the kids’ whereabouts.
She turned to Vana. “What do we do now?”
Vana’s eyes brightened. “What about the man we met at market, Lucius? Would he help us?”
That was it! “Vana, you’re brilliant! I’ll go get him.”
“No, I’ll go. You stay with the children.”
“He’s got a ship. You will find him at the docks.”
Gigi watched Vana leave and waited. Before long, she was surprised to see the dim light of a veiled lantern, Vana and Lucius coming up the alley.
Looking grim, Lucius was carrying a heavy tarp under one arm, and protectively holding Vana’s arm with the other hand. He tossed the tarp on the ground, and then hugged Gigi.
“Young man,” he said to Beremund, “unroll it. We’ll wrap the body in that, so the blood won’t soak through and arouse suspicion.”
“Thank God you’re here. Can you get rid of it for us?” Gigi asked.
“I can do better than that,” Lucius replied. “I can take all of you onboard my vessel and keep you safe at sea. We’ll dump the body there.”
Gigi’s mind hadn’t gotten that far, and she threw her arms around him in thanks.
“Vana has told me about the king,” Lucius said, extricating himself and stooping to wrap the body. “Is Cousin Magnus — ?”
“No!” Gigi replied, suddenly realizing she couldn’t know for sure. “No. But I cannot go with you. Take Vana and the children for now. I’ll go back to the castle to be with the queen. I don’t think there’ll be any more killing, but it won’t blow over, either. A rival, Sergeric, has taken over, and the children are in grave danger while he is in power.”
Lucius took Gigi’s hand. “I will keep them safe. There’s a cove northeast of the port. I’ll put in there and wait for you. If there’s trouble, I’ll leave with them and we can contact one another through my mother.”
“Give us a week,” Gigi said, remembering her history.
Lucius nodded, and Gigi hugged Vana, then kissed the children. She watched them leave, hoping she’d done the right thing. Once they were out of sight, she turned and ran back to the castle.
Chapter 17
Initially following the trail of blood, Magnus encountered a contingent of Visigoth warriors, along with their chieftain, Wallia. He told Magnus what he knew of the king’s death. He reassured him the body was well guarded, although he had no specific information about Gigi or the king’s family, other than that Gigi and Placidia had left the bedchamber.
Magnus prayed to Victoria and all the gods they were safe.
Word was starting to get out about the king’s murder and the corridors were filling with panicked people.
Several servants hurried toward them.
“Is it true? Oh, Lord have mercy, tell us it isn’t true!”
Magnus shook his head, but before he could speak, someone grabbed his arm.
“Why have you ordered the chapel barred to us? We would pray for our king’s eternal soul.”
Magnus exchanged a look with Wallia and together they took off.
As they approached the chapel’s closed door, no one stood guard. Magnus tried the door, but it was bolted from the inside.
He pounded on it and shouted, “Bishop, it is Quintus Magnus. I am accompanied by Wallia and his loyal troops. May we be admitted?”
He heard footsteps and waited as someone on the other side worked the bolt. The door swung open and Leontius stood there, gripping a short sword.
Before entering, Magnus turned to Wallia. “Stay out here and guard the door.”
Magnus went inside and secured the door, then surveyed the chapel. His guts twisted — the floor was covered with blood! The queen, on the floor, her gown blood-soaked, too, sobbed in Elpidia’s arms. The bishop sat on a bench, his head covered with a bloody bandage. There was no one else in the chapel.
Gigi!
But for the queen’s lamentations, there was a chill silence in the room. “Where is everyone?” Magnus demanded.
“Gone,” Leontius sadly replied.
Placidia began to wail. Stunned, Magnus fought for control. “What do you mean?” he shouted. “Be clear, Leontius. Where have they gone, and where is Gigi?”
“She is alive,” he replied, his voice low and for Magnus’s ears alone. “Vana is alive as well. The queen has assured me that when last she saw them, they were unharmed — all of them, and that you would understand the import of this message.”
Leontius held Magnus’s gaze in a hard stare, and Magnus released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He nodded.
Leontius nodded back. “No one else must ever know.”
“Agreed.”
Magnus unbolted the door and looked at Wallia. “They were murdered,” he said, letting all of his emotions pour into the lie. “All of the children were murdered.”
The soldiers standing behind Wallia bellowed in protest.
“Luifs Guth!” Wallia swore. “Who would do such an evil thing?”
Without waiting for an answer, Wallia, looking grim, motioned his men inside.
Magnus went to Placidia and knelt before her. He bowed his head. Leontius’s news was beyond his greatest hope, but grief still hung heavy. “My queen, dearest Placidia, I … ” Words failed him. He cleared his throat, struggling for control.
Placidia looked at him. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes swollen and red with sorrow. He glanced at Elpidia. The woman glared back. No overt signs of grief. He wondered if she knew, also.
The queen raised her arms and Magnus gently lifted her to her feet. He held her, rocking her, caressing her hair. He had known her since she was a child, had spent a lifetime protecting her, shielding her, and yet, in her greatest moment of need, he had been absent. He had failed. Her husband was dead.
Return to Me Page 15