A shadow crossed the old man’s face. “She passed away last winter.”
“I am most sorry, General.” Falco had been with the general on the return trip from Palestine and gotten to know Lupina quite well. A slight woman, not pretty, but full of humor and intelligence. He had seen the love between Cassius and Lupina, even with the strain of what had happened to her people in Jerusalem casting a shadow over it.
“Thank you,” Cassius said.
Falco could tell that Cassius did not want to talk about Lupina, that the wound of her death was still too strong. He understood that feeling. “I did not know you were in Rome,” he said.
Cassius grimaced. “The new emperor is, how shall I say, counting heads. Deciding which ones he can count on and which ones it might be best to lop off.”
“General—” Falco was surprised. He had always appreciated Cassius’s forthright attitude in the field, but here, in the emperor’s own palace, even Falco knew the words were inappropriate.
Cassius smiled. “Still guarding my sword side, Falco?” The reference was to the man who stood to the right in a shield wall, where one’s shield actually only covered half of one’s own body and half of the man to his left. It required all in the line to stand fast in order to be protected and to rely on each other. If one man broke, he exposed the man to his side, and the entire line could collapse.
“You can always count on me,” Falco said as he glanced down the table at the woman who had just taken the couch to the general’s other side.
The general caught the look. “Let me introduce the Lady Epione, wife of Senator Domidicus, nephew of the emperor,” Cassius indicated the woman on his left.
“Lady,” Falco bowed his head. In this matter at last, Cassius was being diplomatic, as he knew well the situation between Falco and the lady. The General had even tried intervening a year ago, another reason for his exile to the country and removal from affairs for the army and the state.
“Noble gladiator.” Epione was lying on her side, her blue robe flowing over her body. She picked up a grape and laid it on her tongue, slowly drawing it in before speaking again. “You fought well and bravely.”
“The gods were with me, lady,” Falco answered.
“Which gods might that be?” Epione asked.
Falco knew she worshiped in the cult of Isis, a very powerful group of women. “Whichever ones watch over the arena,” he answered.
Epione laughed. “Well phrased. Much better than that religion of the Jews where there is only one god. How can one keep track of all the needs looking after?” She had turned to Cassius as she said this, and Falco knew it was a barb at him for bringing Lupina back and putting her in his estate. The general did not rise to the bait.
She turned back to Falco. “I would like to talk with you later about the arena.”
“Falco could see the general’s eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them, but Cassius said nothing.
“Your likes are my commands,” Falco answered.
“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” Epione said.
“The emperor,” Cassius nodded his head toward the door, where people were hurriedly getting to their feet, acknowledging the entrance of Titus.
Falco scrambled off the cushions and stood, head bowed, as Titus made his way around the tables. An aide to the emperor was introducing each person that Titus didn’t know.
“The gladiator—“” the aide began, but Titus interrupted him.
‘Falco. I remember. Centurion of the most noble X Legion. We served in Palestine together. A most miserable place with a most miserable people. I was quite surprised to see you in the arena today. I understand you have been fighting in the arena for a few years now.”
“Emperor,” Falco bowed his head even lower, then looked up, meeting the emperor’s level gaze. He knew Titus had only recently been called back to Rome as Vespasian’s condition worsened and had just assumed the title upon his father’s death.
“And Cassius,” Titus turned and faced the old general. “It has been a while since I saw you, General. In fact the last time, Falco was also at your side, was he not?”
“Yes, Emperor,” Cassius said.
“Curious,” Titus muttered, looking between the two of them. “Most curious.” He slapped Cassius on the shoulder. “We will talk later. There are strange reports from the borders, and I know how much you like strange things.” Then the emperor moved on.
“What did he mean?” Falco asked Cassius as soon as the emperor was out of earshot.
“He fears all,” Cassius said, watching Titus. “He has to. Very few emperors survive to die naturally. He has two fears. One is for the health of the empire. And one is for his own health. The problem for Rome is that, no matter what the emperor thinks, the two are rarely the same.”
“And if he has to choose between the two?” Falco asked.
“What would you choose in his place?” Cassius asked in return.
Kaia stood on the high mountain pass, looking back toward Delphi. She could sense the oracle standing in the sacred grove, looking up at her in the darkness, miles away. Reluctantly, she turned back on Delphi and strode off into the darkness toward the shoreline and transport to Rome.
As she walked, she searched for the third eye she had always had, an ability to see things distant in time or place. She had seen the man the oracle had told her of. The killer. Not his face, but his essence. She had no doubt she would know him when she saw him. Then she turned her inner gaze toward Rome. She could feel the power of the empire all around her, but there was a dark cancer in it, under it.
She saw a mountain with a cloud at the top. Then she heard the oracle’s voice echoing in her mind. The month of Augustus. The twenty-fourth day. Remember.
CHAPTER SIX
Dane was more concerned with rubbing his dog Chelsea’s ears than what the secretary of defense was saying. He’d missed Chelsea, an old golden retriever, whom he’d been forced to leave behind when traveling to the Caribbean. Her tail thumped against his chair as he scratched, to the annoyance of the chairman of the Joint chiefs to Staff, who was seated to his right. Ariana Michelet was seated to his left.
They were deep under the Pentagon in the War Room, and the mood was grim. Dane didn’t need his special ability to pick that up. Situation displays along the wall of the conference room showed the devastation in Iceland, Puerto Rico, and Connecticut wreaked by the Shadow. And they were no closer to knowing what the Shadow was.
Dane shifted his attention from Chelsea to the podium when Foreman took the secretary of defense’s place. He had first met Foreman over thirty years ago at a secret CIA base camp in Cambodia, just before he had unknowingly gone with his team into the Angkor gate. He hadn’t trusted Foreman then, and didn’t’ trust him now, but he did acknowledge that the CIA man was the foremost expert on the planet on what little was known about the gates.
“We stopped this assault through the Bermuda Triangle gate.” Foreman didn’t waste time on preliminaries. “And we stopped the first attack before that, through the Angkor gate. I don’t think we’re going to be able to stop a third attack.”
“Hell,” the chairman of the Joint Chiefs said, “let’s just throw some nukes through one of these things.”
“And most likely get them thrown back at us,” Foreman said. “Gentlemen, let us remember that the Shadow has shown itself to be quite adept at using our own weapons against us.”