Ilario, the Stone Golem (65 page)

provided for Captain-General Honorius.

Tottola, idly leaning up against the archway, grinned and pulled the

curtain aside for me to pass through.

Honorius halted, halfway through pulling off the fur-trimmed demi-

gown, and fixed me with a glare. ‘
Your
stepfather!’

He threw his boot at my head.

I caught it neatly, since there had been no real force behind it, and

returned it to him with a grin. ‘I’ve had masters who threw so much

harder and better than that . . . ’

It evidently defused the remains of his bad temper. He ruffled my hair,

reducing it to a haystack.

‘I wish you’d gone through none of that.’ He perked up. ‘But are you

sure you wouldn’t like to see your stepfather challenged to a duel? I’m

sure Rodrigo-damned-Sanguerra doesn’t need his First Minister
that

badly . . . ’

‘Court politics.’ I shrugged. ‘Videric gets the glory of telling the Lord-

Amir here in charge of Gades that no, he needn’t worry, the devil-ships

are just passing allies of Taraconensis . . . ’

‘I had Carthage. I suppose I can forgive him stealing Gades out from

under me!’

Honorius’s buoyant mood returned too readily for a man who would

play court politics seriously.
But
then
, I thought,
he’d
likely
rather
be
back
on
his
estate,
waiting
for
his
mares
to
foal.

‘And another damn banquet tonight,’ Honorius added, yanking at the

strings of his shirt. ‘I imagine I’ll stay several days. Ilario, have you decided where you’ll go from here?’

My face may have been a little hot as I glanced at the Egyptian. ‘We

haven’t had time to discuss it, really . . . ’

My father has very eloquent eyebrows, when he chooses.

I sighed. ‘I suppose I ought to stay out of the way of the banquet, since

you’re there. How I suffer . . . ’

‘How
I
suffer,’ Honorius snorted.

Voices at the arched doorway interrupted him. I turned, as he did, to

find the German man-at-arms escorting a well-dressed Iberian into the

Captain-General’s room.

The Lord Pirro Videric gave me a tight smile.

‘Lord Honorius. Ilario – I saw you at the dock. This may be unwise. I

know you are only exiled from Taraconensis. But would it not be wiser if

you left Iberia altogether?’

I was close enough to tread heavily on Honorius’s foot.

‘The First Minister is only looking out for King Rodrigo’s interests.’ I

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held Videric’s pale gaze. ‘And of course, he’s correct. Aldra Videric,

Gades
is
a seaport. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.’

Rekhmire’ made his excuses to leave the banquet early, and joined me in

my room while I ate what I had managed to talk the kitchen staff out of.

‘You eat better than
I
do.’ He picked an olive off my plate. ‘And your

temper has certainly improved.’

I ignored that provoking compliment. ‘I would have preferred to leave

Gades by land . . . The Via Augusta starts here. Or ends here.

Depending on your perspective.’

I doubted I could rely on Zheng He’s fleet to transport me, now

Sebekhotep and Rekhmire’ had come ashore. An attempt to bribe

Commander Jian with two charcoal studies, one of him in profile and

one full-face, had only resulted in him cheerfully remarking, ‘Keeps the

demons away!’ as he brandished the papers.

Or at least, I think he said that. My acquaintance with the languages of

Chin is still spotty.

Rekhmire’ took a seat at the window, gazing out over the city of

Gades. ‘The Via Augusta? You’d need no ship at all. You could walk all

the way back across Iberia to Taraco, to Marseilles, to Genoa, to

Italy . . . ’

I saved him a last olive on my dish. ‘What, am I not even allowed a

mule to ride?’

‘You have enough donkeys with you as it is.’

I couldn’t help a smile. ‘Oh, cruel!’

‘Perhaps I’m wrong.’ The Egyptian mimicked thought. ‘Lord Honor-

ius’s men are quick-witted, for soldiers. Perhaps it’s only the lawyer—’

The small weight of the olive made it very satisfactory to lob.

The Egyptian picked it up off the tiles, showing no inclination to eat it.

‘But truly,’ he said, as if it had been what we discussed. ‘You’ll let

Pirro Videric force your hand, and leave tomorrow?’

When I would have succumbed to temper, now I might cross the room

and press my fingers and palms against the large muscles of the

Egyptian’s neck. I found the touch of silk-warm skin both calmed and

aroused.

‘If I have to leave Honorius and Onorata, a quick farewell is at least

quick, and not long drawn out and painful.’

‘Then you need only decide where we are to go.’

‘I will. Not now.’ I looked up at the window, and the velvet moon. ‘I

think, since it seems I’ll see so little of Gades, I should take this

opportunity.’

Going out by way of the elegant marble entrance, we met up with

Honorius’s men, mingling with the governor’s off-duty guards, and with

Aldra Safrac de Aguilar.

The dark man’s long face metamorphosed to a smile. And since he

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claimed he knew Gades well, having been here before, I thought it wise

enough to let him show us its society.

I heard none of Aldra Videric’s secrets, nor anything useful to

Honorius, but I did discover the potency of the local wine.

The times when I have trusted any court far enough to get drunk are

remarkably few. My previous experience of hangovers in Taraco was

due to wine being forced on the King’s Freak for the amusement of

others.

Still, the buttery-hatch to the Governor’s kitchens stood open, and the

feeling of sitting in company in the Great Hall and dulling my morning

headache with small beer and oatmeal porridge was not unpleasant. I

found myself with elbows on the stained yellow linen of the trestle tables,

talking casually with those of Honorius’s men I knew less well.

Gades
seems
provincial,
after
Rome,
Venice,
Alexandria . . .

That evidence of my own snobbery made me chuckle out loud, and

bury myself in my mug of nettle beer while conversations went on

around me.

A hand fell on my shoulder. ‘Ilario!’

Momentarily lost in studying the walls – considering how much more

modern tapestries or even frescoes would look than the red-and-ochre

chevrons painted on the stonework – I almost overturned the trestle table

and bench as I pushed myself up and away.

‘Ilario, no!’ A man held up his hands. He wore a green demi-gown,

and had only a dagger at his belt. ‘No harm intended!’

‘Safrac.’ My grip on the leather and metal of my dagger’s hilt pressed

hard enough to turn skin white. It took me three tries to get the point back into the mouth of the scabbard, and sheathe the blade.

Safrac de Aguilar’s dark eyes smiled, the rest of his face returning to

customary melancholy. ‘I was warned how unwise it is to disturb you.

Forgive me: you don’t always look like a knight. But you’re late! Your

mother’s already left for the meeting.’

‘My mother?’

I would be shocked, were I not bewildered.

Rosamunda
is
here
with
Videric?

Picking up the leather mug of nettle beer and draining it covered how

a nervous shiver went through me, just at the mention of that woman. I

tried not to sound as bewildered as I felt. ‘What “meeting”? I don’t know

about any meeting!’

Safrac de Aguilar frowned. ‘A few moments ago? I met Aldra Videric,

and heard him bidding Aldro Rosamunda hurry, because “Ilario is there

already”.’

As a slave, I would continue to listen. Or ask apparently innocent

leading questions, until I knew what was happening. But I have my

freedom.

322

I took hold of Safrac de Aguilar’s arm through the fine green velvet.

Rodrigo thinks this man honest and incorruptible.
I
hope
he’s
correct
.

I lowered my voice below the level of general conversation in the hall.

‘Were you
supposed
to overhear this, Safrac? Or was it an accident?’

He gave me the thoughtful look of a man who’s been at court many

years.

‘I think, accidental. To be deliberate . . . It would have needed too

much luck. They could hardly know I’d hear that and then encounter

you now. You think he intends – what?’

‘If I could tell you that, I would.’ I found myself frowning. ‘Videric

never does anything without it being aimed at somebody.’

I see only two options here. And if it isn’t me—

‘
I
certainly don’t know of any meeting,’ I said. ‘Did Aldro Rosamunda

seem to know? Or was it a surprise to her?’

Safrac de Aguilar’s brows dipped in concentration, a maze of lines

creasing his forehead.

‘She knew,’ he said finally, giving me a shrewd look. ‘Or I believe she

did. But . . . You could, perhaps, have been told of this last night, and . . .

forgotten during the celebrations?’

Drunk
as
a
fiddler’s
bitch
, they call it. My head did feel as if I’d been drinking the beer they put down in pans for his mastiff, all the night the

fiddler plays. Truthfully, it was no large amount unless to an unseasoned

drinker. And my head was clear enough last night.

I forget nothing concerning my mother.

I bit at my lip. The small pain helped me focus. ‘There’s no

“meeting”. If Rosamunda thinks there is . . . But she’s not a fool, she

knows there may be agents of Carthage here! Why would she go –

Safrac, did either of them say where I was to meet her?’

My thoughts were a tumble of fears: Videric sending Ramiro Carrasco

on a murderer’s errand to Venice; the Carthaginian agent whose name I

never knew dying on Torcello Island; Hanno Anagastes’ armed guards

surrounding Aldro Rosamunda, putting her under arrest.

Frustrated, I protested, ‘There are too many rooms in this palace to

search!’

‘There’s a hall with a fountain,’ Safrac de Aguilar emerged from his

reverie and interrupted. ‘
That
was where Aldra Videric said you were waiting for the lady Rosamunda, now.’

The breath went out of my chest, leaving ice and heat. A solid knot of

cramped muscle and lung.

The
fall
of
silver
water;
the
ringing
fall
of
steel.

Clear in my mind as that day twelve months ago.

If she expected to meet me – yes, she would go to such a place.

‘You know the Egyptian, Rekhmire’?’ I barely waited for de Aguilar’s

assent. ‘Go and tell him what you heard. If not him, then Lord Honorius.

Tell them – to be cautious.’

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Safrac de Aguilar looked alarmed. ‘Where will you be, Ilario?’

‘Finding this hall with a fountain!’

For all his choked protests, he gave me brisk directions; and strode

away from me towards the palace’s guest-chambers.

I walked, because running attracts attention. If I ran out of the hall,

there are those who would follow. Noblemen’s sons, out of curiosity.

Guardsmen, wondering what the fuss is about. The women servants who

clean, who see everything and everybody.

But a preoccupied fast walk attracts little attention.

I should be thinking – planning—

I don’t even know what I expect him to do!

Videric has lied to her.

I don’t know
why
.

Breath hissed hot in my lungs. The gangways and stairs of Zheng He’s

ship had kept me fit. But I’d guessed wrong about the time: it was well

past noon. Gades’ heat as the sun burns around to the second half of the

day is nothing to be sprinting in.

Fifteen minutes at a pounding run, once out of the public eye up

corridors and down stairs, wondering if I had mistaken Aguilar’s

directions – and a stone colonnade opened up in welcome cool.

I slowed to a painful half-trot.

Think.
Think
what you can do—

Twelve months ago I walked another marble-floored corridor, with

Aldra Videric; his blue and white linen robe swirling at his heels as he strode.