The Few (The Abductions of Langley Garret Book 2) (9 page)

'Bon appetit,' she said, and after we had both thanked her, she left us to our lunch. Nelson began crunching away on his salad. I started mine, knowing what I wanted to ask him.

'She's a good cook though,' he mumbled, with a mouth half full of lettuce.

'Yes. It seems so.'

'Go on then. Your face is giving it all away.'

'Giving what away?'

'The question that's running around in your head,' he said, with a slight grin.

'Well, if my face has given it away, you must know.'

'You want to ask why we kill people. Why I said I would kill you if I had to, and you want to know why other people want to kill you. Something along those lines anyway. Right?'

'More or less I suppose. It just seems so, well apart from barbaric, futile.'

'If we were all strong, all of the time, change would never happen. And if only one side of any balance becomes too strong, the balance would be lost forever. So it is up to the weak to weaken the strong and the strong to empower the weak, to ensure a return to a balance. But it's like a see saw. It never stops on the perfect horizontal. You need to keep working to maintain the up and down motion that creates equality for both sides.'

'By killing one another?'

'It's not the killing; it's the disruption it causes. That's why you're a target now, because it's common knowledge that I am old and ill with not a lot of time left, and that you are my successor. If you were to be eliminated, the Sons of Cleito would naturally be weakened.'

'So why didn't they, whoever they are or were, just kill me when they had the chance?'

'I think you can thank Helen for that. I don't know how, but during your stay with your captors, they had doubts that you were Soter.'

'Because I didn't understand the letter.'

'In part. I think it was more that you had no idea about the Sons at all. She kept you in the dark completely for all those years.'

'And they assumed they had the wrong man.'

'I'm not sure, but they doubted just long enough for us to locate you and then get you out.'

'The Russians?'

'Friends.'

'I wouldn't have thought you had many of them.'

'Oh, we do. It's just that they can change quite regularly, depending on the imperative at the time.'

'Right. But these people who doubted who I was back then, don't doubt anymore I gather.'

'It took a while for them to realise their error, but they did. That's why you received your visitors a few days ago and why I sent Marcus.'

'And Chara?'

'Sandra is part of your protection, and a very talented young woman,' he said, as he started serving his Osso Bucco. 'It's looks good. Go on, help yourself.'

I served my food and let his words filter through my mind. My guts were twisted, and my chest tight, as the feeling of being imprisoned hit me, hard. Not contained by concrete and bars, but by fear. He was working on convincing me of the real threat to my life if I didn't conform to my designated role in the Sons, and at the same time hinting that if they didn't pull the trigger, he would.

'Just one question, eh, Nelson.'

'Good choice,' he said, noticing my first use of his name. 'I was rather hoping you wouldn't select, father. Yes, go on.'

'I can sort of understand if someone wanted to kill me to perhaps weaken the Sons, or you. But I don't understand why you would consider killing me.'

'To be humane. I would kill much quicker and cleaner than they would. You wouldn't even know about it. I think you've had a taste of how, let's say, inventive they can be.'

My chest tightened and I couldn't swallow, as his eyes burned into me from across the table. I surrendered after a few moments and looked down at my plate, and wondered if I would be able to swallow the small piece of veal on my fork that I was about to eat. My hand forced the fork into my mouth.

'Sandra's a nice girl,' he said, as I chewed. I nodded while I finished my mouthful. 'But she's not a reward for you I have to say. She knows why she has been chosen and what she must do.'

'And what is that? I asked, after swallowing, uncomfortably.

'All organisations have charters, constitutions, laws, canons or codes of some description that define their principles, beliefs, structure and function. We are no different. The gods, titans, deities and gigantes of our history guide every decision we make – in their reincarnation. As Kratos was Kratos, so I am. As Soter was Soter, so you are. As is Chara, and she will protect Soter and provide you with happiness, and in lying with you, fulfil her destiny.'

I looked at Nelson, trying to divide the two men sitting opposite me that occupied one old man's body. One was willing to kill me, and the other delivered practised and indoctrinated myths and legends. I put my knife and fork down, as what little appetite I had, evaporated.

'We all need beliefs, otherwise it's all pointless Langley.'

'What's pointless?

'The fight for what we believe is right.'

'That reminds me of a quote by Yasser Arafat:
having a war about religion is like having a fight over who's got the best imaginary friend.
'

'Does it matter what the reason for a war is? Be it imaginary friends, god, money, power, greed or in many cases, mutual security. It's just how our race of savages work and nothing has changed since we crawled from the primeval slime and began walking on two legs.'

'Mutual security?' I asked, but saw Giovanna coming from the kitchen, and Nelson seemed to sense her presence coming from behind him and didn't answer me.

'Everything all right?' she asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she arrived at the table.

'Yes. Very good Osso Bucco,' I said, but she noticed I'd hardly eaten more than a mouthful.

'It's good,' Nelson mumbled, with his mouth half full.

'I'll leave you to it then,' she said, as she turned back for the kitchen. Nelson continued eating without looking up. I waited for my answer. He took a sip of his wine, went back to his food, as if completely ignoring my presence. I must have been a full five minutes before he sat back, wiped his mouth with his napkin, took another mouthful of wine, and then focused on me.

'I have a meeting at two. So I'll see you this evening,' he said, as he grabbed his walking stick leaning against the table and started to stand. 'Feel free to wander the house, have a swim or whatever,' he said, once standing.

'Or walk out the front door?'

'Your choice.'

'So I do have a choice?'

'Have a pleasant afternoon Langley,' he said, then turned and walked away. I didn't answer him. As he disappeared, Giovanna appeared and quietly started clearing the table. She seemed to have assumed I'd finished. I sat back in my chair, my chest still tight and my guts in an even firmer knot. She glanced and me and smiled, politely, as she stacked the plates and cutlery, and walked off back to the kitchen with her hands full; returning a minute or so later for the rest of the bowls and dishes.

'He hasn't got long,' she said, without lifting her eyes from what she was doing.

'It must be hard for you.'

'Accepting without questioning is one of the advantages of old age. It saves a lot of time,' she replied, again without looking up.

'Do you know why I'm here?'

'Yes.'

'Did you know my mother?'

'Yes,' again without looking up from the table.

'Everyone seems to know everything about me – except me.'

Giovanna stood over the stacked dishes, almost statue like, leaning on her hands on the table. She pushed herself back up, and moved to sit opposite me. She looked at me with eyes that were sympathetic, yet firm.

'My grand daughter will make you happy I can assure you.' She raised her hand at me as I went to speak and she clearly registered the shocked look on my face. 'She has known her destiny for a very long time, as we all have. But she like all of us has had the time, a lifetime, to learn to accept our destinies, and I know you haven't. But regardless of the mistakes, bad luck or errors of judgement, you are who you are and until you accept that fact, you will never settle.'

'Or live,' I interrupted.

'You can't run away from yourself, nor from others who know who you are. No matter how much you wish you could. Your family is your only real security now,' she said, ignoring my comment.

'So you're not just his housekeeper, are you?'

'Does it matter?'

'I'm not sure. But can I ask you something?'

'If you want.'

'Well, I know Kratos, Chara and Soter. So, um, who are you?'

Giovanna paused and wiped some crumbs from the tablecloth and into her hand. She deposited them in the top bowl in the small stack in front of her. She looked up at me, 'I am called Leucippe.'

'Born of the Earth, wife to Evenor, a woman of multiple personae and the mother of Cleito.'

She smiled at me and rose from her chair, lifting the dishes into her hands and turned silently for the kitchen. She stopped after a few steps, turning her head a little, but not enough to look directly at me.

'Chara has taught you a little then Soter.'

*****

Defeat was probably the word that best described my feelings during the afternoon, with resignation perhaps running a close second. There was also a stupid song by Sting dancing around in my head.

'And every move you make,

Every bond you break,

Every step you take,

I'll be watching you.'

These damn words played over and over in my head as I wandered the long corridors and vast halls of Nelson's house. By three, I'd seen enough and was trying to find my way back downstairs. Wherever Nelson was having his meeting, I hadn't stumbled upon it, nor had I stumbled upon another soul during my self-guided tour of a myriad of bedrooms, dining rooms, grand reception rooms, and well, more rooms. It all echoed with hollow emptiness. I was sure the long corridor I was following would lead back to the central staircase, but somehow it seemed far longer on the return journey.

'You look lost.'

I turned to the voice that came from behind me, and saw Marcus striding towards me.

'Yes. A bit.'

'I saw you pass my office door.'

'Sorry, I didn't see you.'

'It's a bit of a maze. So are you settling in? Has anyone shown you your room?'

'Um, no. I had lunch with Nelson, er, Kratos, and he said he would meet me later this evening. He told me to have a look around or go for a swim. I don't have a swim suit, so I……'

'Sounds like him. Look, I can show you to your room if you like. We managed to collect a few of your things from your apartment, so if you want to freshen up and get changed.'

'Thanks,' I said, without asking any questions.

'It's just up here,' he said, guiding me back from where I'd come. He pointed out his office on the way, then stopped and opened the door to my room. 'The rooms here are quite well equipped, but if you need anything, just dial nine on your room phone.'

'So there are other people here, apart from Nelson and Giovanna. Oh, and the two of us.'

'Yes, but not in the main house. There's a separate building for the staff.'

'Right.'

'Your key is on the table next to the bed. I'm sure you'll be comfortable.'

'Is there a mini bar with beer?'

'There is in fact,' he smiled, still holding the door open.

'Care to join me for one?'

He looked at me for a short moment and I expected him to sniff, in the way he usually did. Dismissively. 'Why not?' he replied, and quite surprised me.

As we walked in, I noticed my small suitcase sitting alongside the ornate hallstand, but ignored it and walked through to the living room. Marcus pointed out the doors to two bedrooms and bathroom, as he made his way in with me. A cabinet of wine and beer glasses on my left told me where the drinks were kept, so I went straight over, opened the small refrigerator door and grabbed two cans. Marcus had already made his way past me to the balcony. I found a tray for the beer and glasses.

'So have you stopped fighting it yet?' he asked, as I sat down opposite him.

I opened the cans and poured. 'I didn't realise I was.'

He sniffed. I passed his glass. 'Cheers,' he said.

'Yes. Cheers.'

He took a long swig of his beer. 'You know, doing as you're told is the best way to survive. Maybe it's my background, but I've always thought that toeing the line, saying yes sir, and accepting orders is far easier.'

'Than what?'

'Than the alternative.'

'You like clarity.'

'There's no such thing.' Sniff.

Marcus was living up to my expectations as someone who was definitely not a conversationalist, but I also had the feeling he was the closest I had at that moment to someone I could trust. I don't know why, but perhaps it was in his curtness that I felt he wasn't trying to convince me of anything.