War-N-Wit, Inc. – Resurrection (10 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Ollie gave an all-body jerk,
shook his head, and looked at me. And sneezed.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m
allergic to cats.”

“
Hssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!”
Micah exclaimed and jumped down
from Hedgepath’s shoulders.

“He didn’t mean to insult
you,” I said soothingly. “I’m sure he’s very grateful. Or will be when I
explain the situation to him.”

“Excuse me?” Ollie asked
again. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying to me.”

“That’s because I wasn’t
talking to you,” I said, completely in sympathy with Alice when she went through the looking
glass. “Hello, Mr. Hedgepath, I’m Ariel Garrett. Welcome back. Now, you think
you might possibly walk over here and get this duct tape off of me?”

“Oh, dear, you are in a fine
mess, aren’t you?”

“That’s actually my line,
but yeah. I really am.”

Ollie attempted to stand up,
but didn’t quite make it.

“That’s okay,” I said.
“You’ve been sitting still for quite a while. Bound to be a little woozy at
first. Try it slow and a little at a time.”

It was a slow process, but
he made it all the way to his feet this time. He started towards me, taking a
few steps at a time. He grabbed onto the arms of my chair when he got there.

“It’s okay,” I said again.
“Take a minute and breathe.”

“No, no, I’m fine. Been out
of it too long. Where are we? This isn’t my house. I have a lovely house, but
this isn’t it.” He reached down under the chair arm, attempting to find the
start of the tape.

“Savannah. I doubt we’ll get this lucky, but
you might wanta check the dresser drawers for scissors, something to cut with.
Duct tape ain’t the easiest thing in the world to get off. And not trying to
put any pressure on you or anything, I’m not sure how long we have before he
comes back. Whoever the hell he really is this time around.”

“Robert?”

“That’s his name?”

“Robert Robertson is how he
introduced himself.”

“And that didn’t strike you
as kinda weird right there? Who names a kid that?”

“Hssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!”
Micah interjected, reminding
me we had more serious matters to deal with. Then he leaped up on top of the
dresser and gave it an inspection.

“
Meeoowww!”
he said approvingly. He swiped his paw across the left
back side of the dresser and something clunked on the floor. I only caught a
glimpse but if I was right—

“Mr. Hedgepath, I do believe
if you go look, Micah just knocked a carpet cutter down on the floor. Been a
lot of renovation goin’ on in this house, very nice of the carpet people to
leave it.”

“Quite,” he said, standing
straight and making his way over to look. “And do call me Oliver. Or even Ollie
if you like. ” He reached his goal and bent down. He leaned heavily on the
dresser, both to get down and back up. “And yes, indeed. Carpet cutter. How did
you get here? Robert’s fine hand obviously, but why’d he bring your cat?”

“He didn’t. Bring my cat.
Long story. What I can’t figure out is why you’re still alive.”

“He needed me alive. You can
sustain the glamour of a dead person for only so long. You need a living body
to sustain it for any length of time.” Ollie began his shuffling gait back to
the chair, though he was moving a bit faster now.

“I’ll file that away for
future use,” I said. “Now, get my hands loose, please.”

“We’ll have you out of this
is in two shakes, my dear. I’m very glad to see you, you know,” he said,
cutting smoothing through the tape at elbow, wrists and fingers near the edge
of the chair arm, the spot affording the least exposure to my skin. Good
thinking, that thing was
sharp.

Ollie was sweet but too
slow. “Thanks!” I said, and grabbed the cutter as soon as he ripped enough tape
off. I cut through the tape around my body on both sides and was just bending
down to get my feet when Micah hissed again. I heard the sounds of footsteps in
the hall and slashed the tape around my boots without much consideration for
finesse. Damn. Cut the leather on my favorite pair of boots. Expensive ones,
too.

“Get to the door!” I hissed
at Ollie. “Move it! Be ready!”

“Magic Man’s taking longer
than I expected,” Legion said as the door opened. “I thought we might proceed
with some of the preliminaries—”

Micah leaped straight for
his face, spitting and clawing. And drawing blood.

Chapter Twenty

Legion literally fell into
the room, fisted hands flailing desperately at the black fury of fur. I pushed
Ollie out in front of me, rushing him through the door.

“Get out of the house!” I
said, shoving him hard towards the stairs. “
Just
get out of the house!
Hide in the side yard, my husband’s on his way, watch
for him!” In the nick of time, I remembered to add, “But
don’t
let him see you! He’ll think you’re the bad Hedgepath!”

“But what about you?”

 
“Takin’ this bastard down. Don’t worry ‘bout
me,
just get out!
”

Good thing Ollie’d had a
chance to navigate a little before Legion’d come back, he was actually moving
pretty good by this point. He charged down the steps.

Micah gave a meow I hadn’t
heard before, one of pain. Some of Legion’s hits were connecting. Hurt my cat,
will you? Okay, another nail in your coffin, bub.

“Micah! Enough! Retreat,
retreat!”

Was that me? Why did I
suddenly sound like a commander in a guerilla raid? Micah flew out of the room.

“Follow!” I ordered, heading
for the stairs. I needed to get down to the lower floor, get all the lights
off. And stalk him while he thought he was stalking me.

Low moans mingled with
curses came from the room. Cat claws hurt, that was a fact. Too much to hope
Micah’d gotten an eye, I supposed, but he’d been doing some damage, for sure.

I flew down the steps, Micah
in front of me. Now, where was that damn foyer light switch? Ah. Got it. And
the front door was wide open. Ollie’d made it out. On to the drawing room.
Light switch. Got it. Damn. Lamps. I flew around the room, clicking switches
furiously. I could hear Legion, so enraged the steps shook, coming after me.
Then I heard a loud
bam
, followed by
a series of successive
bams
, very
close together. I didn’t laugh out loud, but it was a near thing. Bastard had
fallen down the steps. Good. Door to another room. Already dark, so I didn’t
have to worry about finding the light switches. Parlor, receiving room, study,
whatever, I didn’t particularly care what it was called.

I heard a slam and then a
click. He’d closed the door and locked it.

“Not smart,
witch
! You should have run while you had
the chance! I know you’re here, you couldn’t have gotten all the lights and
still made it out!
I’m coming for you!
Again!
I know this house,
witch
!
You don’t! The dark’s my ally, not yours!”

I didn’t think he really
believed that or he wouldn’t have turned the foyer lights back on. But I had no
problem with the dark. I’d taken the dark and made it mine, made it mine the
first night Gellius lay dead in Rome, when I’d fled to the stables, no thought
for anything but getting home—wait a minute. I’d been in Rome, that hadn’t been home?

The memory crowded in, and I
gave it my full attention. Because if it was pushing in, it was trying to show
me something I needed to remember.

 
* * *

No, Rome
wasn’t home. Home was an outpost of the frontier. Lower
Gaul. Gallia Cisalpina. Gaul this
side of the Alps. In modern parlance, northern
Italy.
That’s where we’d lived, where we’d been stationed. Gellius had made our
province so secure and so wealthy we’d caught the eyes of Rome. Who’d called us back to take it from us
and give it as a reward to one of their cronies. They’d send us to another
province, one not so well-run and well-maintained, so we could do it all over
again. A never-ending cycle, and our successors would run the countryside back
into the ground, of course, without a thought to the people of that province,
the laborers who produced the spoils. But it was the way of Rome and we were Romans. Back to Rome we’d gone. Where I’d
caught Tiberius’ eye.

But I wasn’t staying here. I was going home. No matter if I
couldn’t claim our villa, if I had no authority over the Roman troops still
there. I had better. The people loved me. And they’d loved Gellius. He’d
trained them well, which wouldn’t have pleased Rome very much had it been known it. But it
hadn’t been known. He’d trained me well, too. Our people hated Rome. So did I. It was time Rome knew it.

 
* * *

“Witch!” Was there a tinge of uncertainty in Legion’s voice?
Why, yes. I believed there was. “You can’t fight me, I’m stronger than you.”

Like I was going to answer and tell him exactly where I was?
I didn’t think so. He was trying to pinpoint my location so he could
concentrate the energy of the mind messages I felt creeping through the air
towards me. And apparently he didn’t even remember these first-floor rooms all
connected into each other. I started to move across the room, looking for the
doors that would put me behind him.

“
Witch! Come out and
show yourself…show yourself…show yourself…there is no you, you are only a
vessel for my commands…my commands…my commands…
” That I heard, but not with
my ears. “
You must obey me…obey me…obey
me…”

Fat chance. Not even close. I smiled into the darkness. And
two could play that game. I could drive him crazy without giving him a clue
where I was.

“
Legion! Is that all
you’ve got…all you’ve got…all you’ve got….
”

Sharp intake of breath.

“
Come and get me. If
you dare…if you dare…if you dare…
” I concentrated and imagined my unspoken
words swooping like a flock of birds around his head, assaulting him from every
angle.

“Witch!”

Oh, so I’d shaken his concentration there. Enough so he’d
gone to actual speech. But not as much as I was going to shake him. Because
Livia was still trying to tell me something. She had some memories she wanted
to share. So I could share them with Legion. And in so sharing, make them live
again.

Chapter Twenty-One

Heat. Cold. Rain. Hunger. Thirst. Facts of life for guerilla
warriors. Livia stood outside her tent in the early dawn, wrapped in her cloak
against the rain. The people had taken her in. And she’d taken them away from
the villas where they’d labored for Rome,
deep into the forests. In three years, she’d made Rome pay. Quick strikes against every trade
convey crossing the province. Murderous night raids against every Roman
invasion sent to re-take control of the province. Rome didn’t know who the guerilla leader was
but they knew what that leader was. The Scourge of Rome.

And today, the final fruition of those three years. Tiberius
himself was here, sworn to secure the province and bring the Scourge of Rome
back for public execution. Livia looked over at her guerilla fighters, readying
the fine horseflesh stolen from the Roman villas. She threw the hood back from
her hair and strode to her own horse. Gellius’ horse. The horse she’d ridden
out of that Roman stable three years ago. One of the best-trained battle horses
in the Empire.

Mounting, she raised her hand in signal.

“We ride! Remember! We take the leader alive!”

* * *

“Witch! I’m not afraid
of you!”

“Yes, you are…you
are…you are…just not as much as you’re goin’ to be…goin’ to be…goin’ to be…”

Fast forward. I didn’t need the battle. I needed the end.
Legion’s end. Tiberius’ end. It floated, just out of my reach. I narrowed my
eyes. And grabbed it
.

* * *

Livia stood, the cloak of her hood shadowing her face.
Tiberius, pouring sweat and blood, was on his knees in front of her, head bowed
under the extra weight of the helmet. She leaned forward and jerked it off.

She raised her hand and gestured to one of her warriors. He
grabbed the reins of the horses still in the traces of Tiberius’ own Roman war
chariot and brought it over to her. Then he stepped to the back of the chariot,
grabbing the braided leather rope already attached to it and tied it securely
around Tiberius’ already bound hands.

“Show yourself!” Tiberius demanded. “What coward strikes
from the night like a thief without honor and destroys the countryside? What
leader keeps their face covered when they judge a man? What barbarian executes
a soldier in such a way?”

She stepped forward and threw back the folds of the masking
cloak.

“I do,” she said.

Sharp intake of breath. “
Livia
Rufinus?
”

“No. Livia. The Scourge of Rome.”

* * *

“Enough, Witch! Time to end this!
And I’ll drink your powers like fine wine!”

I smiled. He could try. He could
try now. He was right. Time to end this. Now that I knew how.

I stepped out of the doorway
connecting to the foyer.

“Legion, you are so damn stupid
you didn’t even realize I’ve been behind you the whole time? Gotta watch these
old houses, the rooms all interconnect with each other, you know.”

Enraged beyond words, he hissed as
he lunged at me. Not like Micah’s hiss. The evil, almost subliminal hiss of a
large snake.

But I was ready. I had the memory,
coiled and intertwined securely with the power. I could feel it, invisible,
pulsating in my hand.

I pulled my arm back and threw it like a fastball. Straight
into his brain. I concentrated and felt it as it spread out, enveloping every
thread of consciousness he held, replacing every memory he’d ever had.
Permanently. The memory of Livia stepping up into his war chariot. Taking the
reins and urging the horses into a gallop down the northern Italian hills,
Tiberius tied behind it.