Successio (17 page)

I pressed her forearm and smiled at her. ‘You and me both, Ternia.’

‘Countess. With me, please.’ Flavius beckoned me with an imperious gesture. We went upstairs again to a large room, formerly Conrad’s mother’s room. The closet doors were open, a single white shirt hung in one, a plastic bag on the floor. In the bathroom, grease marks and loose dark blond hair marked the basin, a shampoo bottle lay discarded in the shower enclosure. But these and the rumpled bedding were the only signs of recent occupation.

Almost by instinct, I dropped to my knees and searched under the bed. Two guards came forward and turned the bed on its side. Some loose stitching in the base revealed a now empty space – a classic hiding place. In fact, a little too classic. Even obvious. So she was capable of making a mistake? I saw a tiny light in our dark search.

The guards pulled the drawers out of the rest of the furniture, examining the undersides of each drawer and inside the carcass. I climbed on to a chair and searched the top compartments of the closets.

‘We’ve looked,’ Flavius said, impatiently. ‘Forensics are on their way. Leave it. Let’s get back to the palace.’ We trudged downstairs and he signalled the rest of his troops to follow. He turned to me and frowned again.

‘You can ride with Count Tellus in the ambulance or with us in the back of the long wheelbase. Either way, consider yourself under arrest.’

I hadn’t expected anything else. I was bracing for Silvia’s reaction. Flavius would have messaged the uncomfortable fact of my presence through by now.

‘I wouldn’t dream of abandoning Uncle Quintus to your care, even if he weren’t an injured eighty-year-old.’

*

I sat by Quintus in the ambulance, holding his hand. The movement of the road journey had roused him, but he didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes glued on my face. I walked by his side into the atrium where Silvia was waiting with a small group. The wall lights between the columns cast distorted shadows but not much light.

She stood immobile, head pulling the rest of her spine upright. Her eyes flickered over me and settled on Quintus lying on the gurney. She waved one of the group forward who was clutching a medical bag. I hovered while the doctor examined Quintus, checking vitals and gently lifting his head to show the bruising on his neck.

‘The arm’s been set in a rudimentary but effective fashion, Imperatrix, almost an emergency battlefield procedure. But it’ll do. I suggest immediate hospitalisation. We need to give him a whole body scan and monitor him closely for the next few days.’

‘Very well, doctor, but first I need some answers.’

The doctor didn’t look happy, but he had no choice.

Silvia bent over and asked, ‘Where is she, Quintus?’

‘I don’t know,’ he whispered.

She looked over at me, one eyebrow raised. I shook my head.

‘Conradus?’

He shut his eyes. ‘He went after her.’

‘Has he realised yet?’ I asked.

But Quintus had floated off into unconsciousness.

Silvia straightened up. She instructed the doctor to have Quintus admitted to the Central Valetudinarium guarded twenty-four seven by regular Praetorians, no visitors allowed.

‘You come with me, Carina.’

Her eyes were hard as agates, glinting above cheekbones pushing out against her skin. I shook inside. I had deliberately disobeyed her express wishes. She didn’t look especially forgiving.

‘I activated Conradus’s tracker. It was the first thing I did when I went home,’ I said in a pre-emptive strike. All senior members of the Twelve had trackers fitted. It replaced the personal guard of previous centuries. But only the family head could activate it for a purposeful search and only in the presence of the family recorder. ‘Unfortunately, there’s no signal.’

Silvia continued to look at me with hostility.

‘The only explanation is that he’s reverted to the Tella code.’ To which of course I didn’t have access.

‘Was the girl fitted?’

‘I don’t know. Only Quintus Tellus or the Tella family recorder can answer that.’ I lifted my cell. ‘Shall I?’

Silvia waved impatiently, sat down on one of the blue couches and tapped her long, immaculate nails on the wood arm. At least we were conducting hostilities in her private sitting room. When I’d finished my call, she at last stopped the irritating staccato.

‘The recorder says no tracker was fitted to her knowledge. And Conradus’s is switched off.’

‘Damn and blast them all to hell.’ She called Favonius back in and her secretary. ‘Tell the DJ to conduct a national search for both Tellae. Draw on the PGSF if they need, but with care. Too many owe loyalty to their legate.’ She turned to me. ‘Go home, Carina, and stay there this time.’

XVIII

I was catching up on emails later that morning, including presenting my excuses to the Senate for non-appearance yesterday, when Allegra and Hallie interrupted me. Serious didn’t start to describe the expression on their faces.

‘Mama, Hallie and I are going to visit Uncle Quintus.’

I had to hope my mouth didn’t drop open. I admired their initiative but no way would I let my child, or her half-sister, get entangled in political, possibly treasonable, affairs.

‘That’s a kind idea, Allegra, but just not possible.’

‘Why not?’

I waved my hand in a vague arc. ‘It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you in the crossfire.’

She took my hand and held it to her cheek. ‘Mama, I’ve already been in it.’ Her tone was gentle, but her eyes fixed on me with that steady, stubborn Tella look.

‘Don’t worry, Aunt Carina, please,’ Hallie piped up. ‘We’ll stay together and we’ll be able to ask Uncle Quintus questions for you. We’ll be your operatives.’ Her eyes sparkled at the thought.

Oh, gods! Nancy Drew and sister.

‘No.’ I held my palm up.

‘But—’

‘No. Final word.’

Their angry faces reminded me so strongly of Conrad, I had to look away. They trooped off, not understanding I was trying to protect them.

*

‘I thought I could rely on you to stop them,’ Silvia said.

I didn’t reply; I was too angry. Firstly at the girls, but secondly at the guards who hadn’t stopped them. I could only guess that Hallie had exerted her charm and traded on her status and Allegra backed her up with her dignity and new rank as my heir. Damn useless Praetorian regulars. Mainly, I was stung by the easy way Silvia assumed I’d dragged the girls in when really I’d forbidden them to go. I hadn’t relished being rousted out by her Praetorians this Saturday evening like some petty criminal. I stood there silently keeping my gaze focussed two millimetres above her right shoulder.

‘Well?’

‘I have nothing to add to my original answer, Imperatrix. They disobeyed me.’

She threw me an ironic look. ‘Now you know how that feels.’ She flicked her hand impatiently to dismiss the guard and sighed. ‘For Juno’s sake, let’s stop acting like a couple of tarts arguing over a
stola
at a thrift sale. Sit down.’

I obeyed, but was wary. We were cousins and had been friends. She hadn’t rescinded my appointment as one of her advisors. I hated being ranged against her, but I had to stand up for Quintus.

‘This has to be resolved, and quickly. The Imperial Council meets in emergency session on Monday afternoon. I can’t conceal this from them. Ideas?’

‘You have the DJ scouring around with PGSF backing. To be honest, I think you were harsh in your comment about the PGSF. Given a conflict between bringing their senior legate in or obeying you, they wouldn’t hesitate.’

‘Really? They’re intensely loyal to Conradus.’

‘No contest. You saw how one of my oldest friends, Flavius, had no hesitation in arresting me.’ I glanced at her. ‘He didn’t like it, but he did it.’

She rested her face in her hands. ‘Yes, I know that really. I must be tired to even consider it.’ She switched on a brittle smile. ‘So what now?’

‘The girls didn’t get far with Quintus. He just smiled at them, thanked them for coming and said he’d only talk to me. So that’s a priority, with your permission.’

She nodded and waved at me to continue.

‘By now Senior Commander Lurio of the Urban Cohorts will have released his pack of ferrets. I suggest you establish some kind of direct liaison to control the operation.’ Although I’d defended the PGSF in front of Silvia, I hoped they’d keep the line, knowing the DJ were hunting their chief. Tempers were sure to flare. And there was no love lost between Lurio and Conrad personally.

‘However, you can’t be seen to be micro-managing it directly, however tempting. You have to distance yourself from both Stella and Conradus.’

‘You don’t do easy, do you, Carina?’

‘I’ve had to learn exactly that lesson over the past months.’

Neither of us said anything for a minute.

‘Very well. I’ll appoint you imperial agent.’

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was too surprised.

‘You’re the best placed,’ she continued, ‘you know the structures and the personalities. And you’ll push over the limits if you need to.’

‘But—’

‘What?’

‘Juno, Silvia, apart from Lurio exploding when he finds out, I doubt the PGSF will be happy to have their black sheep telling them what to do. And it would be a massive conflict of interest for me personally.’

‘You exaggerate.’ Her eyes gleamed with a calculating look. ‘You want to find Conradus. You know how he thinks in the field, you know what techniques he’ll use. And you want to nail this girl. So I think you’re fairly motivated. And you’re always saying how capable you are compared to others.’

That was a cheap shot. Anger rolled up through me.

Calm down, Carina. This is the imperatrix.

I pressed my lips together and swallowed my temper.

‘It’s decided,’ she said, looked away and stabbed her deskcom to summon the chancellor. He nodded to me, but looked steadily at Silvia. He pursed his lips when she told him of her decision. He had no choice but to acquiesce when Silvia was in determined mode. But he insisted I should report at the Monday Council meeting on my progress.

I was reciting the oath within thirty minutes and received a rectangular gold embossed plasticard for my wallet bearing the imperial commission. I entered my tracker release code in their chip reader and the chancellor entered my upgraded status and his code. As he ran the scanner over my bare skin to check it was correctly entered I shivered. Not from the cold.

*

Back home, I yanked on my jeans and grabbed a leather jacket, my knives and emergency back pack. I calculated I had just under forty-eight hours to get a result.

At the Central Valetudinarium, I knocked on the door of Quintus’s room and entered. He pulled his gaze away from the window when he heard the door open. He glanced at me, then resumed studying the window. The bruise on his cheek was turning yellow-black, a contrast to his washed-out face. I kissed his forehead, avoiding the broken and grazed skin.

‘Hello, Quintus. You wanted to talk to me.’

He didn’t reply. His free hand picked at the cotton sheet. There was no sign whatsoever of the crafty, confident politician of previous times.

‘I have a tight schedule leading up to the emergency Imperial Council meeting on Monday, so if you have something, let’s hear it now.’

‘You know,’ he rasped, ‘I gave her an allowance and a card for any shopping she wanted.’ He looked down and fidgeted with the mesh sling with his good hand. ‘Conradus asked me to put no limit on it.’ He sank back against his pillow. ‘When I queried anything, she made me sound so unreasonable, like a mean old man. She has that soft commanding voice that verbal bullies use. The worst thing is that I knew she was doing it. I’ve come across Mars knows how many of those in my political life. Why I couldn’t deal with her, I don’t know.’ He looked up at me. ‘She wanted the access codes to the treasure account.’

Jupiter! That would have been at least half a million
solidi,
even though Quintus had started again from nearly nothing. But it was a trust to be handed down through the generations, not for personal spending.

‘When I refused, she got up, came over to me smiling. I thought she’d accepted it.’ He snorted. Well, more of a wheeze. ‘How stupid was that! She put her hands on the arms of my chair, leant in and asked me again. I tried to push her away without hurting her, but she brought her foot up on to the seat, grabbed my wrist and elbow and broke my arm over her knee.’

I sat on the bed and took his good hand in both of mine and pressed it lightly. His eyes drooped along with his shoulders as he told me.

‘It was so clinical. She’s as strong as Hades. And that’s where she belongs. She asked again in that soft voice of hers. When I refused again, she seized my wrist and jerked it. The pain exploded up my arm and shoulder. I passed out. When I came round I was choking. Her hands were round my throat and pressing down hard. She was kneeling on my chest. I didn’t have the strength to push her off me. I was sinking into the Styx.’

His eyes closed for a few moments and he was so still I thought he’d fallen asleep. He had to be on strong painkillers seeping through the drip line attached to his good arm.

His eyes jerked open. ‘It was going black, but suddenly, the pressure of her weight eased. For a few seconds I couldn’t feel anything. Then I realised she was no longer sitting on me. The pain rolled back in and I couldn’t stop coughing. Gods, it was worse than her throttling me.’

He was hoarse by now. I poured him a glass of water and helped him drink several mouthfuls before he could continue. Conrad had grabbed her and pulled her off. She’d fought him, kicking and punching. But he was stronger. He tried to restrain her, but she kept jabbing and punching. Eventually, he hit her so hard she fell to the ground.

‘He looked shocked at what he’d done,’ Quintus said, ‘He shuddered and kept staring at his hands as if they weren’t his. But I think at last he’d realised what she was. She lay there for a few moments, winded, and stared up at him with a death look, like a wolf assessing its prey. But after a few breaths she sprang up and ran.

‘I begged him to go after her and stop her, but he wouldn’t leave me. He hardly said a world but set my arm and helped Ternia put me to bed. She was the only one left. I kept telling him to go. I thought he had, but he came back ten minutes later, in his outdoor civvies, carrying a bag and pushing his service pistol into his shoulder holster as he approached. He looked deathly white and said he’d only come back when he’d caught her. I told him to go to you, but he bowed his head and wouldn’t meet my eyes or answer me.’

‘Did he give you any idea where he was focusing his search?’

‘He thought she was running home, back to England.’