Dragon's Child (12 page)

Targo shook his head at the memory.

‘When Caius was younger, he tried to kill me on the first occasion I gave him a sword with an edge,’ the old man continued. ‘He approached me from behind, but I sensed his presence and avoided the blade. He couldn’t find an opening - and then claimed that he was simply testing me. Caius is mastered by spite, and you, of all men, should never trust him.’

‘But surely Lord Ector is aware of his son’s nature?’ Artorex had no good reason to admire Caius, but he was suddenly amazed at how little he had absorbed of life within the walls of the villa.

‘Both Lord Ector and his lady are aware of the flaws in their son. They pretend otherwise, but I’ve seen the master watch the young man, and I know that look. He’s ashamed of Caius. They both are but, like all parents, they love their son.’

Targo stared up at the branches of the alder tree. When he spoke again, it was as if he was releasing frightening thoughts that had been too long contained.

‘Caius isn’t particular who he hurts, if you take my meaning. It’s the pain that’s important to him, for it bolsters his manhood. Wine, blood and mating! Those three demons can make the world a terrible place.’

Targo was speaking in riddles, but Artorex didn’t dare to break the flow of the old man’s thoughts. The veteran’s dark eyes were sad, as if he had seen too much of the brutal side of human nature.

‘Some years ago, two little children went missing from a village to the east of here. Do you remember it?’

‘I’ve some memory of it, but it didn’t mean much to me at the time,’ Artorex answered slowly. ‘It was before you became my tutor. I recall that Frith warned me to stay out of the Old Forest or the evil spirits would steal me away.’

‘You can thank Mithras that Ector ordered you to be trained for battle, or perhaps you would not be standing here, so strong and so unafraid.’

Artorex could only look confused, while Targo pretended to examine his calloused hands.

‘The children, a boy and a girl, were brother and sister, the only little ones of a woodcutter. The boy was thirteen and the girl was eleven when they were lost.’ Targo paused as the memories of that dark time came back to him. ‘The villagers searched for them for weeks, but the children had vanished off the face of the earth, and the superstitious believed that a demon had eaten them. As it turned out, a monster had taken those poor little things who were never apart in life. We found the girl a week later. She’d been tortured and stripped of her hair and her hands. She was alive when that monster cut her veins, for the ground in the woods where they found her was soaked with her blood. Her face . . . it’s one thing to kill in battle, and I’ve seen sights that would sicken the strongest man, but this crime was grotesque - and I recall it to this day.’

‘Was she used?’ Artorex asked, for children were often the prey of human beasts.

‘No, she wasn’t touched. But I’m sure that the man - or the men - who killed her must have hated women. They even cut off her childish nipples when they mutilated her. She bled freely from the wounds - and the dead don’t bleed.’

‘Agh!’ Artorex could not help his exclamation of disgust.

‘The boy’s body was found some weeks later. He’d been buried in a shallow grave on the edge of the woods over by Falcon Fold, but the coldness of winter had kept his flesh fresh, so his father was able to recognize him easily. None of us knew how to tell his fate to his mother, but the woodcutter was fair mad with grief. ’

Instinctively, Artorex knew that this grim story was a long way from its ending.

‘The boy had been raped repeatedly. There was still blood smeared along his pitiful little flanks. He’d been tied up, and had then been abandoned to starve to death.’

‘But what have these horrors to do with Caius?’ Artorex asked.

‘I wonder you don’t remember more of the Murder of the Innocents. No one, servant or master, seemed to speak of much else for many weeks. And then, one day, when Mistress Livinia warned Caius to take care - for there was a bloody murderer at work - I saw the young master smile. It was just a fleeting smile but I sensed that he was guilty of something. The villagers distrust Severinus and his catamite, but where the Severinii go, so does Caius.’

‘I was feeling sorry for myself in those times,’ Artorex explained softly. ‘I was spending much of my time in the Old Forest, or avoiding work, so I cannot remember much of the lost children,’ he whispered slowly, his mind consumed by the graphic cruelty of Targo’s tale.

‘Every year or so, another child seems to go missing. But there are so many children and wild rumours surface about their fates, each tale more unlikely than the last. We sometimes find their remains but, more often than not, the bodies are too well hidden by the beasts who commit these crimes.’

‘Do you believe that Caius is part of these abominations?’

Targo glanced over his shoulder towards the villa with a harried, haunted expression. Artorex couldn’t remember a time when the veteran had appeared to be frightened, but now his seamed face bore a number of changing emotions - and one of them was fear.

‘Yes.’ Targo spoke the single word reluctantly, and in a whisper. ‘Either alone or, more likely, with Severinus, his friend. He was very young when the first children were lost, but he was already friendly with Severinus.’

Targo looked at his young pupil.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised to find that Caius doesn’t have the balls to act in these atrocities. I think he’s satisfied just to watch, like the suppliants at the more ugly festivals that were held on the Lupercal in Rome, before the barbarians burned it to blackened marble. What I’m saying, boy, is that either Caius is a murderer or his friend is a murderer. And, yes, I believe that Caius is an accomplice in the slaughter of these children. May the gods help me, but I pity Master Ector if ever he learns what the villagers suspect.’

Artorex was revolted, as much by the web of silence that had been thrown over the villa as by the vileness committed in the execution of the crimes.

‘It’s clear to me that you despise Caius, and yet you obey his orders with a calm face,’ Artorex protested. ‘How do you remain silent? Do you think Ector knows anything of the fate of these children, and would he remain mute to protect his son?’

‘I hate Caius with an old soldier’s loathing, but I’ve hated many men and I’ve still allowed them to keep breathing. The reason I obey the commands of Caius is because he is the son of Lord Ector, a true and noble man who took me in when I was near to falling on my own sword. My master doesn’t know what his son does, for he doesn’t have the face or the eyes that can easily tell lies. I swear that he doesn’t suspect Caius.’

He gazed down at his hands which were twisting and kneading each other restlessly.

‘I couldn’t bear to be the one to tell Lord Ector the full measure of my concerns. I’ve no proof, as the villagers have no proof, so I wouldn’t expect Lord Ector to believe anything that stains the character of his house. As for the mistress? No. Never. She’d kill the boy herself if his guilt brought shame on her family name.’

Targo’s eyes were filmed with self-disgust as well as tears, and Artorex winced to see what his doubts had aroused.

‘Now that you’re aware of my fears, boy, you must promise me that you won’t do anything until we can act with certainty. Too much pain would be inflicted on too many innocent people if we acted on mere suspicion.’

Artorex nodded. ‘I agree. We must watch and we must try to keep the family safe from harm - even Caius. Like you, I owe my life to Lord Ector and Mistress Livinia.’

The morning breeze blew cold and raised the hair on Artorex’s arms. He rose to his feet. His eyes were quite flat as he considered the problem of his foster-brother.

‘Damn her!’ Artorex sighed. ‘I was quite content until she stirred me into thinking.’

‘You speak of Mistress Gallia, I suppose.’ Targo grinned through his yellowed teeth. ‘A tasty little morsel of trouble.’

‘Yes. She’s an infernal nuisance, but she’s sharp - and she’s beautiful!’

‘So sharp that she’ll cause you to be cut if you aren’t careful, boy. Young teasers like the Mistress Gallia are a curse to most men, for they’ll drive you fair crazy.’

With much still left unsaid, the two men began to prepare for their daily sword practice.

 

Quite ignorant of the upheaval she was causing in the still pool of the Villa Poppinidii, Gallia helped to while away Julanna’s long hours of enforced inactivity by showing her all sorts of trifles she’d brought from Aquae Sulis. Jewelled combs, a game of pegs, a tiny amulet of the Mother in whalebone and delicate threads from the East all found their way into Julanna’s room.

Cletus died suddenly when spring was at its most beautiful. He had been ill for so long that the master and the mistress counted his death a blessing for the faithful servant. As he had no children and no kin, he was sent to his gods discreetly with only the family and the house servants as witnesses. Afterwards, his ashes were scattered over the fields he laboured to enrich. As quietly as he had lived, so Cletus passed out of the world of Villa Poppinidii. His death caused scarcely a ripple in his wake, for he had providently trained his replacement.

Over the next month, regardless of the disdain shown by Caius, Gallia kept close to Julanna, so the young father-to-be contrived to be absent from the household often, sometimes for days on end. Spring flew by on heady, scented wings and even Gallia was lulled into a protective aura of peace and contentment.

She sewed with a fine hand and the friends spent countless hours preparing baby clothes and embroidering fanciful designs that would beautify the fine wools and linens. The girls were rarely bored, for Gallia knew a wealth of stories that never failed to enthral her friend. Had she known how carefully Artorex watched over both of them, Gallia would have felt less comfortable within the walls of the villa.

When Julanna was less than a month from birthing and the start of summer was only days away, the three travellers returned once again to the villa.

Some days glister as if diamond dust is carried on the warm air. The fitful breezes had been hot all day and the family had spent most of the hottest middle hours in the atrium where the fountain offered some illusion of coolness. The ladies fanned themselves desultorily and gazed longingly at the visible square of sky that held no trace of cooling cloud. Even the birds were silent, as if the heat had robbed them of the power to sing.

The three noble visitors were a welcome distraction from the unseasonable weather. An excuse to laze in the baths and dress for the evening meal was a blessing after the hammer of heat that had bludgeoned the family throughout the day.

Ector greeted Myrddion, Luka and Llanwith pen Bryn with pleasure, for he realized that, thanks to these noble and powerful men, he now possessed a strong young steward who could safely manage his lands for many years to come. When Cletus died, the youthful Artorex immediately took complete control of the villa’s day-to-day life and was performing his duties with distinction even before Ector confirmed his promotion to the position. Much that Artorex now was, Ector knew, was due to the intercession of the three lords, and he was grateful.

The presence of Gallia caused some consternation on the part of the three noble visitors. Obviously, they had not anticipated other guests during their visit.

Gallia was agog with curiosity at the presence of the three visitors, and her golden eyes gleamed as she noticed every tiny detail that marked the strangers as powerful men of influence. Llanwith’s dragon dagger told her much, for if she was not mistaken the hilt was wrought from iron and pure gold. Luka wore a torque of antique shape and, although the metal was strange to her, the worldly little Gallia guessed that it was made of electrum.

As for Myrddion, who was now distinguished by a white streak in his black hair, Gallia recognized the manners of one who is used to daily contact with the mighty and the powerful. She knew a dignitarium, a high-ranking courtier, when she met one. He wore a pigeon egg-sized ruby on his thumb as if it was a mere nothing, and one ear was pierced and filled with a strange spearhead of gold.

Yes, very peculiar indeed were these men from far away - men who came infrequently to observe Artorex’s progress, and then departed as quickly as they arrived. Gallia knew there was some deep purpose behind their visits, for men of wealth and power never act impulsively. Gallia grinned delightedly. Mysterious strangers, rumours of the wider world of Britain and an opportunity to wear her best robes danced tantalizingly through her thoughts.

‘Anything that occupies Caius and reflects his words,’ she muttered aloud, sobering immediately. ‘The heat is making us all irritable.’

But Gallia could never be gloomy for long, so she danced away to her sleeping chamber to consider the deficiencies in her wardrobe.

CHAPTER V

 

As had become customary at the Villa Poppinidii, a feast was held to honour the arrival of the three dignitaries. Artorex kept the kitchen humming and nimble maids prepared bedchambers for the three visitors.

Gallia was obliged to sleep on a pallet in Julanna’s room. She did not protest, for she knew that Caius had recently grown increasingly morose and she welcomed the opportunity to guard her friend from his temper. Artorex was also uneasy, for it was clear to him that Caius was distracted and his moods were growing even more unpredictable. The noble visitors only served to put Caius on edge; Artorex overheard him swearing viciously at a manservant who was laying out a fresh tunic for the feast.

As Artorex strode through the colonnades, ensuring that all the small details of the meal met Lord Ector’s expectations, he saw Targo hovering in a patch of shadow near the stables.

The old man had swathed himself in a dark cloak so that only the keenest of eyes could spy him as he observed the comings and goings at the villa. Artorex noted that Targo carried his short sword and dagger in sheaths at his waist.