The Warrior's Princess

  ‘Steph! Well, well. I might have known.’ He folded his arms. ‘How foolish of me.’

  ‘Dan!’ She pretended surprise. ‘How extraordinary to see you here. Are you heading home as well?’ The palms of her hands had broken into a sweat as she looked up at him and she rubbed them surreptitiously on her knees. He was wearing dark glasses and she couldn’t read his expression. Glancing beyond him she saw Rhodri appear, carrying cartons of coffee and a bag of pastries. At the sight of Dan he speeded up and came to a standstill beside him.

  ‘I thought it was you! You utter shit! I am going to beat the living daylights out of you for what you’ve done to Jess!’ Rhodri dropped the bags from the coffee shop through the window into Steph’s lap. ‘By the time I’ve finished with you, you will be sorry you were ever born!’

  Dan took a sharp step backwards as Rhodri reached out to grab him, then he turned and ran.

  Rhodri didn’t bother to follow. ‘Coward!’ he bellowed after him. ‘Give up, man! She’s already gone. You won’t find her!’

  Dan paused and looked back. ‘She hasn’t gone,’ he shouted back. ‘Don’t you understand anything? She won’t leave until Titus has killed her nemesis.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘I should have known better than to follow you. What a farce. Now he’s angry!’ A few seconds later they saw his car heading back onto the carriageway from where he had parked it amongst some lorries behind the coffee bar. With a screech of tyres he did a U-turn on the quiet road and accelerated back the way they had come.

  ‘Bastard! Get your mobile, quick.’ Rhodri lowered himself into the driving seat and pulled away from the pumps. He parked again almost at once. ‘There’s no point in chasing him. Ring Will. Warn him he’s on his way back. Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Steph had her mobile to her ear.

  ‘See what Will thinks.’ Rhodri took back one of the coffees and took off the lid, blowing froth and steam from the cappuccino inside.

  ‘I’ll get her to the airport,’ Will said as Steph reported what had happened. ‘He doesn’t know where she’s staying. That is a bonus. We’ll go out to Ciampino. My plan is to get her down to Cornwall. There is no way Dan could find her there.’

  ‘What shall we do?’ Steph asked. ‘Shall we come back?’

  ‘No point if we’re leaving. I suggest you carry on driving back. Enjoy the trip. But be careful if you go to Ty Bran. You might find he automatically heads there if the trail goes cold.’

  Titus Marcus Olivinus threw back his head and laughed. ‘I couldn’t have done better if I had set the fire myself!’

  Lucius glanced at him doubtfully. ‘Are you sure you didn’t?’

  Titus touched the side of his nose. ‘Who knows? A word here. A word there. They say it started in several places at once. If I played a modest part, it would only have been to make suggestions as to who did what, where.’ He gave a satisfied grin.

  ‘So, you would destroy an entire city to isolate your little princess?’

  ‘You must admit, such a plan has style.’ Titus sat back in his chair. Outside the barrack block men ran to and fro, changing shifts, coming back exhausted from fighting the fire, throwing themselves into their bunks as the men who would replace them formed up on the parade ground ready to march towards the seat of the flames. ‘There will be nothing left by the time this finally goes out. It is right out of control. Our Emperor at least will be ecstatic. He can put into effect all his plans to build a new city once he’s routed out the elements he decides to blame.’

  ‘And he will decide to blame Eigon’s friends?’

  ‘They will certainly be amongst those he picks on, yes. Christians and anyone he considers his enemy. I would be very wary if I was a member of the Senate at the moment.’ Titus gave a cynical laugh.

  ‘Has it occurred to you that Eigon might get swept up in the clean-out herself? My informer thinks she’s been baptised,’ Lucius commented gravely.

  Titus grimaced. ‘Then I will have to see that she is reserved for my own personal attention before they start rounding them up.’

  ‘It’s already started. The mob is out in force. They want someone to blame, and they want that someone now.’

  ‘Then Nero has found the perfect scapegoat. Christians are everywhere. You know, it’s my guess he started at least one of the fires himself!’ Titus went on with a guffaw of laughter. ‘I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s been trying to get his plans for a huge new palace approved by the Senate for ages. He wants that and he wants the power of the Senate curtailed. What better way than to smoke them out.’

  ‘And put the blame squarely somewhere else.’ Lucius shook his head. ‘And be elsewhere giving one of his appalling concerts when it starts. What an alibi!’ Somehow he preferred the idea of the Emperor being behind the conflagration to the suspicion that it might have been started by this cold calculating man beside him.

  Titus levered himself to his feet. ‘Time to make one or two plans, I think.’

  ‘You’re not going in to do a bit of fire-fighting?’

  Titus raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not rostered on. And I’m not going to volunteer. What is the point? One more man throwing a bucket of water at the flames is hardly going to make a difference. I have more exciting things to do. Are you with me?’ He held Lucius’s gaze.

  For a moment Lucius hesitated. Then he shook his head. He was not prepared to witness the culmination of Titus’s sadistic plans for Eigon. He had long ago decided that. Julia’s fate had shocked him more than he cared to admit. It had shaken his friendship with this man to the core and he was not sure that friendship would survive much longer. He gave a grim smile, gathering up his cloak and heading towards the door. ‘I’m going to put in a spot of fire-fighting. There are men and women and children dying out there. Whoever is to blame, it sure as Hades wasn’t them!’

  Titus shrugged. ‘Up to you. I think maybe it is time Eigon and I were alone together anyway. And what I have planned doesn’t need an audience!’

  * * *

  The sound of her mobile ringing made Jess jump. She was dry-mouthed and terrified. She had to warn Eigon. Somehow she had to contact her. To make her listen. The mobile rang on and on. With an irritated exclamation she bent to the bag, lying on the floor by the dressing table and rooted around until she found it. She turned it off without looking to see who it was. Carmella and Will had both emphasised again and again that she must keep it on at all times, but not now. Not while she was trying to contact Eigon. Throwing it down she went back to the bed and sat down again, closing her eyes. Remember to protect yourself. Once again Carmella’s voice echoed for a moment in her head. There was no time for that now. No time for anything but direct action. ‘Eigon,’ she whispered. ‘Eigon, are you there? Listen. Please, listen to me. You have to be careful.’ There was a long silence. Nothing happened. Jess opened her eyes as a sudden thought struck her. Lucius had said that Eigon had been baptised. She was a Christian. Why had she not seen that happening? How could she have missed something so important? Was it so secret that even Jess had been excluded? She frowned impatiently. ‘Come on!’ she murmured. ‘Where are you?’

  Even now she didn’t know how this process worked. Sometimes she dreamed. Sometimes she appeared to go into a trance. Sometimes she was just awake and watching the scene running before her eyes like a film. Did Eigon consciously facilitate what was happening? Did she want Jess to know her story? Did she want help, as she seemed to do as a little girl, crying in the woods in Wales? Or was this whole process something inside her own brain? Somehow, without her knowledge or her intention it had tuned to a faraway frequency. She clenched her fists. ‘Eigon. Please, listen to me! Be careful. He is coming to find you.’

  The fire finally burned out after six days. It would take far longer for any semblance of order to be restored to the wreckage of the city. Everything was in disarray even in the areas which had been preserved. Even out here in the suburbs routines were still haywire. But the gate
s to the villa were open. Titus smiled. He watched a wagon turn in and rumble across the dusty forecourt drawing to a halt in front of the main doors. Slack. That is what he would call their entire household.

  Aelius was going to pieces. Too old. No strong direction from the top, he had been allowed to go his own way too long and the shock of the fire and not knowing where Flavius was had turned the man into a lump of dough. And he still had no idea what Flavius was up to. Titus smiled. It had been easy to subvert Flavius. A few denarii here and there and the lad would do anything he asked. He frowned, moving back into the shade of a roadside tree as another wagon approached. This one lumbered on past, heading out of town. He hadn’t realised quite how fond the lad was of Julia of course. It had been a tactical error telling the young man to delay his trip into Rome that day so she had to go out alone. He obviously was a better judge of female character than Flavius was himself. He knew she would go on her own rather than be disappointed. But it might have made Flavius suspicious. It had certainly rendered him useless for months afterwards as he grieved for the stupid woman. His frown melted into a smile as he remembered and he felt himself growing hard. Dealing with Julia had been far more exciting than he had ever dreamed possible. And now the long planned moment had come and he was about to do the same thing again.

  Eigon, however, was going to be much harder to winkle out of her lair. More of a challenge, but then he liked challenges. He peered out of the shadow at the gateway. There were guards there, he had established that much but they were lounging in the shade, not paying attention. If he rode in smartly dressed, well horsed, he would be waved towards the house where the house slaves would be expected to look after him. If there were any around. He turned, untied his horse and swung himself into the saddle. Eigon wouldn’t see him. Her routine was unfailing. All morning she would be in her rooms seeing to a long queue of ailing peasants and slaves. Taking no payment. Giving them her undivided attention, her gentle smiles, her creams and pills and potions until her father woke and demanded his turn. Ye gods, the girl would probably thank him at the end for the excitement he was going to provide for her last hours on earth! He headed the horse towards the gate at a leisurely walk and drew up inside to wait for someone to come and accost him.

  ‘Hey there!’ he called imperiously. ‘Is there no one here?’

  The shelter where the gate porter normally sat, out of the weather, was empty. Titus snorted derision. If it was going to be this easy he was going to feel cheated. All the long hours of planning, the dreaming, the lusting over his goal looked to have been a waste of time. He could have walked in and taken her just like that!

  ‘Can I help, my lord?’ The voice behind him made him jump. There was someone in attendance after all. His horse sidestepped nervously and he jabbed viciously at its bit. The man reached out for Titus’s bridle and quieted his horse with a hand on its nose. ‘I’m sorry there was no one to receive you. The guards have escorted a wagon round the back. Did you wish to see King Caratacus?’ He was a slave, but immaculately dressed and well spoken. Titus reined back away from his hand forcing the man to release the horse. ‘I came to see his steward, Aelius,’ he said sharply. ‘There is no need to bother the king himself.’

  The slave nodded. He reached for the horse’s bridle again. ‘If you would care to dismount, sir, and go to the door I will send for someone to tell him you are here.’

  Titus sat still. ‘Call him out here,’ he said curtly.

  The slave frowned. He said nothing however. Stepping away from the horse a second time he turned and walked towards the main entrance to the villa, disappearing under the portico into the black shadow of the interior. Titus narrowed his eyes, watching. There was no other sign of life. No dogs, no scurrying servants. The place seemed to be asleep but that didn’t mean there weren’t other guards he couldn’t see.

  When the servant returned he was alone as Titus had known he would be. ‘I am sorry, lord, Aelius went into the city early this morning. He will not be here until nightfall. Would you like to speak to anyone else?’

  Titus shook his head. ‘I will return another day.’ He wheeled round and cantered towards the gate without another word. The man would recognise him if he saw him again, but that meant nothing. He smiled to himself as he spurred the animal into a gallop on the hard roadway heading back towards the city.

  ‘Signorina!’ The knock at the door was loud in the room. ‘Someone is on the telephone for you. Are you there?’ There was a pause. ‘Signorina?’ Another few seconds of silence then came the sound of footsteps as the woman ran back down the stairs, her sandals clopping down the wooden treads, the sound fading into the distance.

  Jess moved uneasily on her bed but she had heard nothing. Her attention had moved inside the house now, through the dark entranceway into the atrium which was flooded by sunlight through the open centre to the roof above the still pool of water in the middle of the room beneath it. She moved towards Eigon’s rooms, drifting like a shadow herself through the deserted reception area to the passage where a bench had been placed so that patients could wait more comfortably for their turn inside her small still room.

  Eigon looked tired. Somehow Jess had passed through the door to stand inside watching. She was bandaging the infected arm of a small boy. He was crying, trying to hide in his mother’s skirt. The woman was ragged and distraught. ‘I don’t know why he does it! I tell him not to climb the wall. I tell him to be careful!’

  Eigon smiled without looking up as she concentrated on the wound. ‘Boys will be boys. There. That is better.’ She patted the child on his head. ‘I’ll give you some ointment for the wound, Cilla. Try and keep the dirt out of it or it won’t heal.’

  When the woman had gone she stood for a moment, her hands to her back in the classic pose of a woman overburdened. Jess heard her sigh. She was still beautiful, still young, but there was a heaviness about her that spoke of total exhaustion.

  ‘Eigon!’ Jess’s voice was urgent. ‘Eigon, can you hear me? You have to hear me. Titus is nearby. He is coming to try and kidnap you. He will kill you. Please, please, listen to me!’

  Eigon straightened. She looked round with an expression of faint puzzlement on her face. ‘Is there someone there?’

  ‘Yes!’ Jess was exultant. ‘Eigon! You can hear me! Listen!’

  Eigon shook her head and put her hand to her forehead. ‘Glads?’

  So, she still thought about her sister. Still perhaps heard that lonely voice from her childhood. She looked round again, then she walked to the door and opened it, beckoning the next patient inside.

  Jess groaned. ‘No, please! Please, listen –’

  ‘Shsss!’

  The sudden hiss in her ear almost knocked Jess over. ‘Stop it! Leave her alone! I know what you’re trying to do!’ The whisper was harsh, husky, almost lost in a dusty echo.

  Jess lurched to her feet and stared round, terrified. It had been so close she could feel it reverberating in her head, but the room, her room, in the pensione, was empty. One of the shutters had swung open and a broad band of sunlight lay across the carpet near her feet. The atmosphere felt tense, utterly silent, without air. She put her hand to her chest, swallowing hard, feeling her heart thudding uncomfortably. Her mouth had gone dry. Her doorway into the past had closed. She couldn’t see Eigon any more, but she could feel someone in the room near her. Trying to regain her breath she backed towards the door. ‘Who’s there?’ Her own voice cracked with fear. ‘What do you want?’

  She was staring at the line of sunbeams, whirling with dust, which lay across the shadows. Was there a figure there, just for a moment, a hazy outline, no more, then gone?

  ‘Titus?’ She breathed the word and immediately felt the atmosphere change. It was like an electrical charge in the room. She felt her head tighten uncomfortably as though someone had drawn a ligature around her forehead.

  Protection, Jess. Never forget it. And remember, never say his name. Do not even think his name! Carmella’s
words rose in her head from somewhere. No point in Christian prayers and platitudes. Carmella was no churchgoer either. Hit him with his own gods!

  ‘Go back to Hades where you belong, you vile murderer!’ Jess’s voice was still husky.

  Surround yourself with light. Make sure you are on your own ground. Surround yourself with guides and angels. Call on your power animal. Whoever you see as your inner friend, call on them to protect you!

  Jess clenched her fists. She had no inner friends or guides; she had never heard of a power animal. She should have listened better. She had been an idiot, so obsessed with finding Eigon, afraid that any steps she took to protect herself would shut out Eigon as well. And now here she was alone and vulnerable with this vicious bastard in the room with her. Then suddenly she knew; of course she knew. There had been one animal in her life who would fulfil every criteria Carmella had described.

  ‘Hugo!’ The cry she gave echoed round the room. It was a scream for help, for protection, calling for the dog she had so adored as a child, her mother’s great shaggy French sheepdog, who had taken it upon himself to be guardian and tutor and protector of her and Steph. And incredibly, suddenly, he was there, a whirl of black shadows in the room with her, a scrabble of claws on the rug by the window and Titus had gone.

  Jess sat down on the bed, crying. The room was suddenly still again. She felt a slight, quick, pressure against her leg, the weight of a dog, leaning against her, pleased with itself, and it was gone.

  The footsteps on the stair were running this time. ‘Signorina? Are you all right? Signorina Jess, please open the door!’ Jess staggered to her feet. She unlocked the door with shaking hands and pulled it open.

  Margaretta, her hostess, was standing on the landing. ‘Is something wrong?’ Her eyes were wide. ‘You called out? I could hear you downstairs.’