With an irritated flick, he sent the stopper winging over the floor and gulped greedily at the liqueur.
Wrong, Claudia thought. Don’t rub him up the wrong way. We’re being civilized, remember? ‘I can’t condone the loss of two million,’ she said with commendable calm, ‘but after two generations of peace the population is not only back to its original level, numbers are actually swelling. With men at home, instead of off fighting, lands have become fertile and prosperous-’
His fists clenched, and he rammed a punch into a pile of blankets. ‘Goddammit, we’re a vassal state! Don’t you have any conception of what that might mean?’ He shook his silver mane and his anger seemed to fall with it. ‘Well, that’s of no consequence. We need the last piece of the map, Claudia, and I know what you think of me, but I swear, you have my word as a Sequani nobleman, that once it’s in my possession, I shall personally see you to safety. My word.’
A vision flashed through her head. Of him giving his word to Marcus, of their gripping forearm to forearm, staring deep into each other’s eyes as they weighed one another up.
‘Is Junius dead?’ she asked woodenly. And knew the answer.
‘It was part of the plan.’ He shrugged.
Ah, yes. The plan. I was forgetting. Right from the very beginning, Sequani spies must have informed the Spider that Theo was acting for Galba. The Treveri and the Helvetii might not know the senator was about to double-cross them, but by the gods, the Spider did. The rock fall was his signal to swing into action. After that, it was watch-and-wait time. Someone-probably Arcas-would have kept an eye on the convoy, doubtless laying a trail for the hapless travellers to follow which would lead them to the plateau where they’d see a plume of smoke, and in their frazzled state they wouldn’t think to ask themselves, who lights a fire in midsummer?
Guided to the village, it’s plain sailing. From then on, they’re in the Silver Fox’s hands, dancing to whichever tune he pipes. He would be well aware of Theo’s role, and it wasn’t that he mistrusted him. He wanted the lad close to keep tabs on him. For similar reasons, he recognized in Orbilio a man who was not what he claimed to be, and wanted him at the back, separated as far as possible from the man who was collecting the maps.
‘That day the Spider’s war party descended on us,’ she said sombrely. ‘We weren’t in any danger.’
‘None at all.’
‘You signalled the charge by leaning on your sword, letting the sun send out a message.’ Then it was playtime. Lead them a dance. Sow seeds about headhunting Gauls. Sow panic. Pandemonium. Make them trust you.
‘I tried to warn you, Claudia,’ he said thickly. ‘How often did I say to you, trust nobody?’ Almost to himself, he added, ‘But you wouldn’t listen.’
No self-pity, Hanno had said. And no compassion, either…
Claudia thought of the ewe with her lambs, her cut throat pumping blood. She thought of the horse breeder, whose stock Arcas had so heartlessly stolen. Never mind that family might starve, be forced to leave the lands they had worked for, spend the rest of their lives in poverty. This was in the name of ‘the cause’. Try as she might, Claudia could not contain her rage. "What bloody cause? Did Arcas and his brutal leader imagine they could take on the might of Rome? With or without the chaos of the new Republic, did he not know how great the army numbered? How far the Empire stretched? No, of course not! To the Sequani, a few hundred miles was big territory. Oh, you stupid, stupid, ignorant sods! Sending good men into battle when any soldier could tell them, the whole bloody lot would be slaughtered!
Doubtless Theo had tried, but the Spider, in his arrogance, wouldn’t listen.
Double-cross upon double-cross.
Where would it end?
Now, though, one other thing, finally, made sense. Dammit, you silly bitch, you only have yourself to blame for this predicament. You should have been suspicious from the start when it was Arcas acting alone who came to rescue you. Not, she thought, because Orbilio holds a torch for you. No. He’d have tagged along for the simple reason he always had, to play the bloody hero!
She wondered what he was doing. The sun would be shining in Vesontio. The parade would be long over, the banquet underway. Wine would be flowing like nobody’s business, business contacts set up, orders placed as sucking pig and roast boar were wheeled in. There’d be dancing and music, jugglers between courses, acrobats, poets and mime. He’d have gone to the barracks, established Theo hadn’t turned up, and then what? Unable to proceed further on his own, would Marcus have gone to the party? He’d notice her absence. Maybe check up on her lodgings, but she’d checked out, he would find. He’d be cross, call her names, and when he calmed down he would see that she’d simply slunk back to Rome and since he was only concerned with his precious map, he’d be happy knowing it was not in rebel hands. Right now, she thought, he’d be feasting on lobsters and quail, taking his pick of a score of young women He would never know that the Spider, having searched her room, had then arranged her kidnap (no doubt a rebel fed false information to a gullible Junius that the Neptune Gate was perfectly safe). He would never know how, in order to retrieve the final portion of the map, the rebel leader had tested her resolve by trying to unnerve her with Theo’s head-with a whole cavalcade of heads-culminating in that harrowing human sacrifice which was the wicker man.
Marcus Cornelius would never know the Spider’s tactics. How, under torture, some people talk, others never will. How the Spider could tell (from heaven knows how much experience) which type he was dealing with, and having assured himself that tough measures would fail with Claudia Seferius, arranged for Arcas to effect a rescue.
The hue and cry that followed was another piece of theatrical romp. Designed to make her place her trust in her saviour…
With weighted eyelids, Claudia looked around the cave.
At the hams hanging from the beam above. The slimy walls. The Silver Fox whose lair she had been lured to. Where would, could they go from here? The friendship ploy had failed, she had seen through Arcas. Admittedly a tad late, but nevertheless, she knew who he was, as he knew she would not yield to torture. They had reached an impasse, and from here there was no way out.
This grotto was Claudia’s grave.
XXXIII
How long did they sit there, Claudia and Arcas-one hour? two?-without speaking? At one point he lit the fire, since the need for pretence was over, but far from comforting, the flames made the cave steamy and because the damp wood smoked badly, he kicked over the logs. Now only a few wayward coils of grey rose from the fragrant fir ash. No sound intruded into this subterranean grotto, only the constant drip-drip-drip of water from the roof and the blood pounding in Claudia’s temple.
Her teeth chattered from the fear and the cold, and she tried not to think where this would lead. The rebels would not give up on her, so how would Arcas proceed from here? He had given himself thirty-six hours to win her confidence and ultimately the map. Then what? She shuddered as she saw the Spider’s thugs storm the grotto, cart her off to that torture-house in the valley where they burned men in front of their families That wouldn’t happen, she vowed. Somehow she must break free of these bonds. Kill Arcas. Kill herself. A silent tear trickled down her cheek. Big words from a big mouth, she thought. I’m trussed up like a game bird, and what of Drusilla? The single raindrop became a thunderstorm as Claudia realized she would have to kill Drusilla, too. Think, girl, think. There is a way out of this. There has to be.
‘He’s my brother,’ Arcas said out of nowhere. ‘Sualinos. He’s older than me by three years.’
‘What?’ Claudia’s spinning brain tried to focus. ‘You’re related to that psychotic piece of shit??’ Dammit, she hadn’t meant to say that. Caught on the hop, it slipped out. Still. The damage was done now the damage was done. ‘And because he’s your brother, you back his campaign to the hilt without questioning his motives or his methods?’