‘You’re telling us you are the son of the exiled Senator Cantalus?’ Cornelius asked.
Fisk nodded, once.
‘Well, why should you give a damn about this?’ Cornelius posed, drinking a large glass of port. Yet he was suddenly very interested in Fisk. ‘Your family is in disgrace, its name damaged beyond repair. You’re lucky the Emperor didn’t have the Praetorians dash your brains out on the ground when you were an infant.’
‘I barely remember Rume, and my father was an arsehole.’ He turned, his eyes fixed on Livia. ‘But I had a wife once, long ago. And a daughter. We lived out on the plains, in the shadow of the Whites. I—’ He stopped and swallowed. Livia’s hands trembled. She looked like she wanted to touch him. ‘I loved them. We had a life.’
The two stared at each other as though no one else was there.
‘We’d see the stretchers moving, but we never had no truck with them. They didn’t bother us. They were like phantoms slipping through the grasses and the trees down by the river. Until that Berith came. Until that red-haired son of a bitch came.’
Fisk’s Adam’s apple moved up and down painfully in his throat. We all watched him. Livia’s eyes were as large as pools and nearly as wet.
‘At first it was the dog. He killed it and strung it up for us to see.’ He breathed deep, his big, rawboned hands clenched.
I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him to reveal all this in front of so many hostile listeners. But he kept on. ‘And then it was the livestock. The bastard took my goats and busted down my corral, setting my ponies loose. I’d chase them down, and he’d let me see him. Smiling big on the rise above the valley, all teeth, a gutted goat slung over his shoulder.
‘So I took up all my possessions, all the gold and silver I had taken with me when I fled my father, and I rode to New Damnation and bought this six-gun and my carbine from an engineer there. Came back home, ready to kill that son of a bitch.’
Secundus poured some port for Fisk but he waved it away and continued, all the while looking at Livia.
‘But he disappeared, for a year or more. And we went back to life as usual and didn’t spend any time counting our blessings.’ He passed a hand over his eyes, and a weariness settled on him like the snow that blanketed the Cornelian. His body shifted and the defiance in him that I knew so well, the hard core of the man that never relented, it was gone. And he just looked hurt, and tired, and full of loss in that infinitesimal shift of his body.
‘She was growing, shooting up like a weed, my Kallie. She had hair the colour of sun on wheat and a laugh like a bell. She loved the animals, feeding and watering them.
‘I was busting sod behind the mule when Lenora started screaming. And there was Berith, holding Kallie like a porcelain doll. She wasn’t crying. She was scared and amazed and confused, but she wasn’t crying. I took up my guns but that son of a bitch just stood there, out beyond the corrals, grinning like a devil and holding Kallie in his hands.
‘When I came near, he danced away. She started crying then.’
Now Fisk accepted the drink Secundus offered, and knocked it back.
‘Ain’t much left to say. He ran the way stretchers do, bounding all around. I chased him. For hours. Farther and farther away from the house while Kallie called out for me, crying. I could never get close enough to him to know I wouldn’t hit my baby girl when I shot.
‘He must have grown bored with the game. He disappeared. I never found her body.’ His eyes were too dry, his voice too steady. If only his voice could break, or if he could cry. Ia pity the man who grows so hard. ‘We tried to have another, but Lenora had trouble with Kallie to begin with, bleeding and the like—’
He looked dreadful, the hollows of his cheeks deep and his eyes sunken. Every cord on his neck stood out, and his arms were tense. His hair had frosted in the time since he had left to reclaim Isabelle; there was more white than black now.
‘I left one morning to hunt and when I returned, she … she was swinging from the rafters. Without Kallie—’ He unclenched his hands and finally looked away from Livia, staring at his palms. ‘I wasn’t enough to make life worthwhile.’
He balled his fists again and stood seething. A more dangerous and pitiable man I’ve never seen.
‘So I will take this Ia-damned hand and do whatever the summoner wants me to do, whatever stain it might leave on my immortal soul. And I’ll hunt for Isabelle until I’m dead. Or she is.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Can’t back out of this, Livia.’
‘It’s an old wound, Fisk. Can’t you—?’ She looked at him, her eyes welling, and the rest of the room fell away, her father, her siblings, the engineer. Everyone and everything. And it was just the two of them. ‘If you go, I go with you.’
‘No.’
‘If you can go and bind yourself to that—’ She gestured toward the severed hand that remained on the table. The grey thing pointed an accusing finger at Fisk. ‘Then I can come too, and there’s no man or woman who will stop me.’ She looked around the room with such a fierce stare not even her father dared speak. ‘And Isabelle will need me when we find her.’
No one said anything.
The silence drew out and I could see Secundus frowning. I almost felt pity for the boy, who now had to put duty to family before his own inclinations. Cornelius looked at his daughter with surprisingly moist eyes, wanting to say something but not finding the words.
Eventually Lupina entered carrying a half-bottle of whiskey – winter rations were in effect – and filled small glasses for everyone.
‘What happened to your father after he left Rume, Hieronymous?’ Cornelius asked, voice catching. He looked a bit embarrassed at the hitch in his throat, so he busied his hands trimming a cigar and lighting it from a match.
Fisk shifted again, slumped, and then sat heavily in one of the cushioned chairs in the small stateroom. ‘He got rich, trading with the Medierans, living in New Cartena.’ Fisk looked washed-out, exhausted. ‘After his exile, he didn’t care much for Ruman influence.’
‘Why should he? He managed to flee Rume with three talents of gold.’ Cornelius gave a sallow grin. ‘The Emperor was absolutely furious.’
‘Sounds like you enjoyed the scene.’
‘Of course. Every senator in Rume loves it when Tamberlaine gets egg on his face, the old goat.’
‘How’s that?’
Secundus said, ‘While the Emperor is feared and obeyed, there’s not a senator, knight, or man in the cursus honorem who hasn’t found himself poorer due to Imperial edicts.’
Carnelia sniped, ‘He’s a greedy old lech, Tamberlaine. Thank Ia he adopted Marcus Claudius, who’s reputed to be as temperate as he is handsome.’
‘Marcus Claudius is a gibbering moron,’ Cornelius said. ‘He can fuck and get children on highborn and servants, but not much else. Another reason this damned abduction complicates things. If I could return Isabelle to the Medieran Embassy at Passasuego, we could spend the remainder of my governorship in Harbor Town or some other cultured city, raking in taxes, and then I could arrange your marriage to him, Carnelia.’
She gasped and clapped her hands, her earlier frustration at being a pawn in Ruman familial games now forgotten. ‘Oh, really, Tata?’
‘Shut up, both of you,’ Livia said, her eyes blazing. ‘This is no time for your frivolities. With Isabelle lost, we are at the brink of war. I’m sorry your whiskey-sodden brain can’t keep that hard reality front and centre.’
‘I say, Livia, you can spend your days running mad among the colonists due to your special circumstance—’
Carnelia gasped. Secundus looked pained. Beleth and Samantha carefully inspected their glasses of alcohol. ‘My sullied name, you mean?’ Livia asked. There was no shrillness, no rise and fall of outraged inflection. Her voice was deathly quiet. But it was as though one of the Gallish double doors to the hurricane deck
had blown open and a spill of snow had frozen the room.
Cornelius harrumphed and cleared his throat. ‘Your special circumstance. But don’t presume to stop the normal flow of—’
‘Father,’ she said, her voice clear. ‘Despite all the love I bear you, stop speaking now. I was once a useful political piece for you to play on the board. You did, even though I begged you not to. And now I am no longer a useful piece for you. My name has been sullied irrevocably. In the forum and the senate hall and the finest tricliniums in Rume, when they speak my name they whisper – matron macula. I will never marry again. I will never be able to appear in any public familial function for fear of shaming the Cornelian name. And why? Because as a strategist, you played me poorly! So do not refer to my downfall as a special circumstance or I swear to Ia and all the old gods that I will chop off your other foot and feed it to the dogs.’
Carnelia clasped her hands to her throat as if choking back some dire exclamation. Cornelius sat back in his chair, his jaw loose and quavering. Before, his whiskers had seemed fierce, but now he looked an unkempt old man. Secundus scowled at his sister and crossed his arms. I tried to keep very still and not draw any attention to myself.
Livia tucked a wild hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. ‘I am sullied beyond repair. But I do not need you, Father. I have my own fortune – my mother made sure of that before you divorced her – and I can make my way in the world just fine. From now on, I shall steer my own course.’
Tears gathered in Carnelia’s eyes as she watched her sister, and I felt a moment of sadness for the younger woman – still bound within the familial games. Still a viable pawn on the board.
‘I … I never knew you felt this way, Livia.’ Cornelius said. He ran his free hand through his grey hair. ‘I want you to be …’
‘Happy? Then you will not hinder me now.’
Cornelius nodded.
Livia sighed. ‘Tata, I love you dearly. But both you and I know there’s no real public life for me back home. And here …’ She gestured to the stateroom, and the movement encompassed more than just the dull wood and silver of the Cornelian hull and planks – it encompassed the vastness of the Big Rill, the White Mountains, the Hardscrabble Territories, and massiveness of this new land. And somewhere in there, I imagine, it encompassed Fisk, too. ‘Here I can discover my destiny.’
Secundus cleared his throat. ‘I’m afraid I can’t allow that, sister.’
Livia turned to him, giving him a cool look that would have made most men tremble. ‘Indeed?’
‘You are still a member of the Cornelian family, despite the unfortunate slanders against your name. I assure you, now that I am …’ He stopped, took a breath. ‘Now that Gnaeus is gone, I have been thinking and planning. I will address the slanders against you by taking Metellus to court.’
Carnelia snickered. ‘For what? Spreading rumours?’
The young patrician shook his head. ‘During your wedding feast I overheard Metellus speaking to one of his cronies about the purchase of a silver mine in Dolia.’
Cornelius shook his head. ‘While it’s frowned upon, senators have been able to join in industry ever since Justininus sat on the stone chair. Anyway, the Dolia silver mines have been exhausted, or so Imperial missives tell me.’ He tapped a finger on the table. ‘Which is why we’re here, at the edge of the Ia-damned world. Silver.’
Secundus nodded. ‘I believe Metellus knew of the impending failure of the silverlode in Dolia and inflated the price of the mine in the last census,’ he said, holding up his hands as if weighing a talent of silver. ‘By a thousandfold.’
Cornelius’ eyes widened, and he whistled. ‘Defrauding the College of the Indemnities! You’ll win no friends in the senate if you don a wolf’s head and nip at one of their own.’ He laughed. ‘Oh, but what a way to enter into the rolls, son! A fantastic way to start a career.’
Secundus narrowed his eyes. ‘I will prosecute him far enough that he fears me. But I would never be able to win. I have not enough clout nor gravitas, and the backbenchers would not support me. I can, however, make a big enough clamour that he might accede to my demands.’
‘Which would be?’
‘A formal declaration that Livia was a good wife, and true, and that all of the slanders against her name were false and propagated by his political enemies.’
Carnelia clapped her hands together. ‘Bravo!’
‘I won’t be there to see it,’ Livia said simply.
‘What do you mean?’ Secundus said.
‘I do not plan on leaving this land for you, little brother. You’ll make no marriage arrangements for me.’
‘Livvie, this way we can arrange a suitable match—’
‘Do what you will, but I’ll not return to Rume.’
‘You will if I tell you, sister.’ He had forced some steel into his voice.
Livia’s eyes blazed and she placed her hands on her waist. I had the distinct impression that she was thinking of pulling her sawn-off from wherever she kept it in her dress.
‘Then I renounce the Cornelian name.’
Carnelia’s glass dropped, shattering on the table. Secundus’ mouth opened and then shut.
But Cornelius, now that he’d had enough whiskey, laughed. ‘You will do no such thing.’ He raised his glass. ‘I am immensely fond of the two of you at the moment, and I would see no ill-will between you.’ He slurped his drink. ‘You, Livia, are free to do as you like. Provided that you remain a Cornelian and do not get killed. For the love I bear you. You, Secundus, will do exactly as you said and bring suit against Metellus.’
‘Why, if you’ll not keep her with us, father?’
‘The Cornelian family can trace its name back three thousand years.’ Cornelius looked serious for a moment, thinking. Then he said, ‘Because no one drags us through the mud and gets away with it.’
‘What about me, Tata?’ Carnelia asked.
‘What about you?’
‘What great plans do you have for me?’
‘It is a shame my blameless child was labelled a whore and deviant, while my – let us say – more amorous one is what I’m left to work with. Be that as it may, I will still try to arrange some sort of union for you with Marcus Claudius.’
Carnelia’s expression became sly and she picked at her fingernails as she said, ‘Say I want to renounce the Cornelian name myself, and find my way in this new land?’
Cornelius laughed until tears streamed from his eyes. Livia kept a straight face but Secundus could not hide a smile.
When he could breathe again, Cornelius said, ‘Ah … daughter, I will miss your charming conversation very, very much. I’m sure we can all visit you at whatever whorehouse you end up in.’
Carnelia blanched. She stood up and left the triclinium.
The laughter lasted longer than you would have expected, coming from a father and brother. Rumans just don’t act like regular folk.
Finally, having regained his composure, Secundus said, ‘Beleth, you stopped speaking too soon.’
‘Uh, yes, er – whatever do you mean, Secundus?’
‘The third way to summon and bind a daemon. Please go on.’
‘Well, er, the third way to summon and bind a daemon is to direct it to possess a human.’ He popped a handful of almonds into his mouth. ‘Very painful stuff and it ends, usually, in death. But a simple enough process – it’s the containment of the infernal that is complex. Marking a vessel for possession only requires a bit of inkwork on the subject—’
‘Do you know these markings?’ Livia asked.
‘Of course.’
‘Fascinating. Did you learn them during your time in far Tchinee, studying with the Autumn Lords?’
He nodded slowly, one eyebrow arching.
‘Might we see them?’
‘Now?’ Beleth was resting his glass
of whiskey on the top of his belly. He brushed his hand on his trousers then dipped it into his shirt pocket to withdraw a thin cheroot, which he lit from a match. All the while ignoring Livia’s stare. Finally, after he was puffing merrily, his head wreathed in dark smoke, he said, ‘It seems my hands are occupied. Samantha?’
Samantha had remained quiet during the whole length of the conversation but now sat forward and pulled a piece of paper from her breeches, laying it flat upon the stateroom table. She scratched an intricate circle with a sharp charcoal pencil. When she was through, she passed it to Secundus, who glanced at it and then passed it around the table. When it came to Livia, she looked at it, and then folded the paper.
‘Interesting. Thank you for the lesson. I hate unfinished subjects. Are there words that go with the process?’
Beleth squinted at her. ‘Why do you wish to know this?’
‘I am curious.’
‘Of course there are words,’ Samantha said. ‘None that should be spoken here.’
‘Ah. I understand.’
Fisk cocked his head. ‘What’s all this about, Livia?’
‘It is nothing.’
Then Livia stepped forward, and despite the eyes of family upon her, she took Fisk’s hand in hers, brought it to her cheek, and said, ‘I go with you.’
He was silent, the muscles working back and forth in his cheek, grinding his teeth. Finally he said, ‘Of course.’
It was only later I realized that Livia had kept the piece of paper.
TWENTY-TWO
‘You really gonna go through with this?’ I asked Fisk and Livia as we lingered in the small stateroom after Fisk’s debriefing. Cimbri had taken Reeve to get accoutred for scout duty – he was replacing Banty for the time being – and we had time before Beleth was ready for the binding.
There was a lot going through my mind then, more than just the consequences of having a daemon invade Isabelle’s hand. The events of the last week living on the Cornelian among the patricians and – worse – performing the grisly interrogator’s duties for Beleth had really disturbed my normal demeanour; I felt desperate and raw. It is easy to tamp away feeling from a remove of many years, but at this point, my chest was a roil of emotion, of guilt and anger.
The Incorruptibles Page 19