The Silver Wolf (55 page)

“I hadn’t thought love eternal,” Regeane said. “Sometimes I hadn’t thought it even possible.” Her own words filled with surprise and even a little fear.

Rufus turned away from her and walked toward a stand of browning goldenrod illuminated by the afternoon sun. “Of course,” he said. “You’re still young. I’ve forgotten how young you are. Love is eternal. That is its terror and its final beauty. Love never ends. The joy may go out of it, and, in time, even the pain may end. But it lingers like a living thing and follows you every moment of your life. A day doesn’t go by without my thinking ‘I wish Cecelia were here to share this moment with me.’ Tell me a joke, make me laugh, and I will wish I could hear her laughter. I think of her in the breathless hush of morning before the sun brushes the hilltops with golden light, and in the evening when, for a perfect moment, the sunset fills the sky with the myriad hues of purple, violet, red, and gold.”

Rufus paused in the sunlight and idly broke the dusty flower heads. The dying sun burned his red hair into fire. “I walk with her in the springtime when my orchards bloom. On brief, hot summer nights, I dream of her in my arms. In the autumn, amidst the dust of the haying, she stands beside me. When my tenants carry the first sheaf to the altar, she walks crowned with wheat and autumn leaves through the shimmering, stubbled fields. She is both Demeter and Aphrodite. On cold winter nights, when the stars are brittle lights in a midnight black sky, and the wind shrieks around the eaves, I wake, reach for her, and know she is, perhaps, forever gone. Because, you see, Regeane, I know that if love is eternal, so also are folly, lies, and roses. And she may never return.”

Regeane stood with her fists clenched; tears blurred her vision. Rufus walked back from the sunlight and into the shade of the cypress.

“I can’t promise she will listen to me,” Regeane said, “but I will go to her and I will plead your case as best I can.”

Rufus grinned. He took her clenched fists in his hand and spread the fingers carefully. “Don’t worry about success or failure, my dear. I’m a sensible man and I know Cecelia well. I only want you to give her an excuse.”

“Of course,” Antonius said. “An excuse. Something to save what’s left of her face.”

Rufus flinched.

“For God’s sake, Antonius,” Regeane pleaded.

To her surprise, Rufus regained his composure and laughed. “Antonius, how many men really fall in love with a woman’s face? Was that all Adraste meant to you? A pretty face?”

“I must remember not to cross swords with you in the future,” Antonius said. “You scored a hit there. Avery palpable hit.”

“I’m glad you felt it,” Rufus said.

“I hope Cecelia takes the excuse I’m going to offer,” Regeane said. “Perhaps she wants to come back, but isn’t sure … of her welcome.”

Rufus lifted one of Regeane’s hands to his lips and kissed it. “Reassure her,” he said.

“Come, Regeane,” Antonius said. “It’s late and the shadows
cast by the cypresses are very long. You will need to dress for the feast tonight.”

“My men are within earshot,” Rufus said. “These ruins aren’t safe at night. Some of them will give you both an escort back to Lucilla’s villa.”

LUCILLA WAS WAITING NEAR A GATE IN THE BACK wall of the villa when they returned. “Gundabald and Hugo are here. Where do you want them? In the reception room or the atrium garden?”

Regeane’s mouth was dry, and she could feel her heart hammering. She straightened her dress and appealed to Lucilla. “How do I look?”

Lucilla fussed with her hair for a moment. “Not too bad,” she said. “You’re a bit flushed from your long walk, but luckily, you don’t wear cosmetics and you haven’t perspired too freely. Given the new clothes and jewels, I feel the effect is satisfactorily intimidating.”

“Good,” Regeane said.

“Now, don’t be submissive,” Lucilla cautioned. “That would only make them suspicious. Make it plain you intend to be mistress in your own house, but be conciliatory. Pretend that when you return to your own country, you feel you will need their help establishing yourself politically.”

Regeane nodded absently.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Antonius asked.

“No,” Regeane said. “He’d be surprised if I didn’t come alone. He might not speak freely.” With that she moved away
from Lucilla and toward the curtains separating the darkened room from the atrium.

Gundabald and Hugo were cooling their heels near the villa entrance. They were seated on a stone bench. Gundabald stared gloomily out over the reflecting pool. Hugo was glancing around nervously, obviously overawed by his luxurious surroundings. He was the first to see Regeane approaching. He jumped to his feet. Gundabald rose more slowly. Both men turned to face her.

Regeane stopped, keeping about ten feet between herself and the nearest of the two men. She had expected to be frightened, instead she was surprised by her own observations.

God, they were a shabby pair. Hugo’s mantle and shirt were threadbare and there were obvious sweat stains at his armpits. Gundabald’s gold-embroidered mantle which had once seemed so fine to her eyes was dirty and his linen stockings were baggy at the knees. They both wore mud-stained scuffed boots that showed signs of hard usage. And, before God, they smelled foul. She had scented them often before and her wolf nose would have known them in the dark, but she realized for the first time that the rank stench she associated with them was the result of rarely washed bodies and unclean hair and beards. Gundabald stared at her with sullen eyes, red-rimmed and bloodshot with sleeplessness and drink.

For a moment, she wondered that Lucilla would bother to contemplate killing either one of them. They weren’t worth the trouble. Then, Gundabald smiled. And the sight of his blunt, yellow teeth brought a shadow of the old terror returned.

“What?” he asked. “No kiss on the cheek for your uncle?”

The wolf’s lip curled. Regeane could have sworn it was the wolf until she saw the spasm of rage cross Gundabald’s face and the fear in Hugo’s.

“You dare sneer at me, you stupid little twat?” He continued in a low voice. “I know you think you’ve found some strong new friends. Friends who will stand by you and so they will until you’re safely married and off to your new lord’s mountain fastness. But what will you do then when you’re alone with him?”

“Don’t try to frighten me, Gundabald,” Regeane said.

He took a step toward her.

She said very softly, “Don’t come near me.”

Gundabald hesitated and stepped back. Hugo looked as though he wanted to flee. He made a little whimpering sound in his throat.

“Don’t be a fool,” Gundabald snapped at him. “It’s broad daylight.”

“Gundabald,” Regeane said, “you aren’t safe near me by day.” She shook her head slowly. “Not anymore. I’ve changed.”

Hugo went behind Gundabald.

“Yes,” Gundabald said, “but then you always did that.”

“Yes,” she said, “but now I do it more often and a lot more easily. So, I warn you, don’t depend on the sun.” Deep inside Regeane, the wolf rose. Her jaws opened in a wide doglike smile, the long, red tongue curled at the powerful fangs. The look on her face was pure laughter. The laughter of the victor in a deadly contest of wills. And Regeane knew the words she’d spoken to Gundabald, only meaning to bluff him, were the simple truth.

Somewhere in the darkness of the Campagna, in the world between life and death, in the struggle to save Antonius’ life, the wolf had come into her own. Regeane could call on her by day or night, and the magnificent killer beast would rise to serve her. She’d won.

“Father …” Hugo half sobbed.

“Shut up, you fool,” Gundabald said.

“Yes,” Regeane said. “Shut him up. I’ve no mind to listen to his whining. Dogs whine, and he is a dog. Now, what do you want? Or rather, I know what you want. Let me show it to you.”

Regeane turned and swept aside the curtains to the triclinium. Some of Maeniel’s treasure lay on the table, a careless scattering of gold coins, loose gems, rings, and brooches.

“Not bad,” Gundabald said. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

“This is,” Regeane said, “not a tenth of what he brought. The more valuable pieces are locked away.”

Gundabald went to the table and picked up a small stack of gold coins. They jingled loosely in his hand. “A tenth of what he brought?” His eyes gleamed with greed.

“Less than a tenth,” Regeane said. Suddenly, she was tired. Tired and angry. She’d won. Now, all she had to do was trick this pair of fools into trusting her, and Lucilla’s assassin would do the rest.

She eyed the pair of them staring transfixed at Lucilla’s bait. She lifted a ring from the table, a magnificent ruby set in ridiculously complex, twisted Celtic knot work, and dropped it into Hugo’s outstretched hand. “This pretty trinket will buy you a lot of women and a great deal of wine as well. Won’t it, Hugo?” she asked.

Hugo backed away from her, gazing down at it, mesmerized by the gem in his hand.

“What do you want?” Gundabald asked.

Regeane met his eyes with an artificially artless glance. “What could I possibly want?”

Gundabald laughed. The laugh ended in a snort of derision. “You want something. Otherwise, your fine friends would never have allowed us past the gate. It’s clear to me,” he said with some chagrin, “that you’re not afraid of me any longer.”

Regeane’s fingers played idly with the precious litter on the table. She separated a few fine Indian rubies from the rest, scraped them to the edge of the table and poured them into her hand. Then, stretched out her arm toward Gundabald. He spread his palms for her largess. They trickled through her fingers into his cupped hands. He picked out one and held it up to the light.

“This lord is plated with wealth,” she said. “He must sleep and dream of gold, only to waken and find it falling into his coffers. A river of riches flows through the high mountain passes. Caravans laden with spices, silks, jewels, and gold. He is anxious for Charlemagne’s favor so that he may grow even richer. I have presented myself as the road to that favor.”

“And what of moonlight?” Gundabald asked.

Regeane laughed. “I’m not afraid of moonlight. You were always too shortsighted to understand. I welcomed it, embraced it, loved it. But no, Gundabald, I never, never feared it. And now, I am mistress of the night and all contained therein. For this lord of mine, I will be a tender plaything draped in silk until he reaches his home. The high fastness of which you spoke.
Fools, he is not a pigeon to be plucked, but an orchard to be cultivated, increasing its yield year by year until I have garnered all it has to give. He is a proper man, this Maeniel, and I can make him one of the greatest lords in Franca. I will be his lady, and you two my trusted companions, if you will but let me. I’ll have no rivals for his favor and I will suffer none. They will meet with … accidents. I’ll see to that. Neither of you has ever had the slightest conception of what Gisela gave birth to.”

Gundabald stepped back and studied her. “Do you seriously think you can deceive him about your true nature for years?”

Regeane tried to make her face hard. “With your help, I can deceive him as long as I like.”

Gundabald gave her a long, slow, brooding look. Then, he walked to the door and gazed out into the garden. “This takes a bit of getting used to,” he said. “My plan, you will admit, was very simple. Take what we could get, arrange a hunting accident, and then as the grieving heiress and deeply religious widow—an appearance of piety would do you no end of good, my dear—you would spend the rest of your life under the safe supervision of your uncle and cousin.”

“Yes,” Regeane said, “in a narrow stone cell, chained by my neck to the wall. Was that what you had in mind?”

“Oh, no!” Hugo stammered. “We wouldn’t dream …”

“The hell you wouldn’t!” Regeane’s voice cracked like a whip silencing him.

“That’s better,” Gundabald said. “At last, the bribes have been paid.” He tossed the rubies in his hand. “The pretty words spoken. Now, we’re getting down to business.”

Regeane nodded. “You two gentlemen had best listen to my terms, because, Gundabald, I don’t plan to spend even one day of my life under your so-called ‘supervision’.”

Gundabald turned in the doorway and rested his back against the wall. “What you’re planning is absolute folly.”

“Folly?” Regeane laughed. “You murdered my father, robbed my mother blind, and made my girlhood a hell of misery and despair. Give me one,
one
reason to trust you about anything.”

Gundabald rushed toward her. “We know your secret,” he roared.

He stood over the table. Regeane was behind it, only inches away. Her voice dropped into a low, hoarse whisper. “Back up, Gundabald, and get your foul breath out of my face or you will learn more of my secret than you care to. Right now!”

Gundabald obeyed. Hate glittering in his eyes, a dark evil shimmer. “I still say what you plan is folly. Sooner or later, the man will learn your secret and he will kill you.”

Regeane fought for composure. “Perhaps not,” she said, “or perhaps he will learn my secret and not be able to kill me. But one thing I tell you, and you had better listen well, there will be no convenient hunting accidents! This marriage is important in a way neither of you understands. Denied as you are the councils of popes and kings. Your intriguing would ruin me and I’d bring you down with me. I’d make sure of that. Be advised, Gundabald, you no longer have the power to rule me. It’s the other way around. I’m giving the orders here and you’ll obey my commands now or get out. One loud shout from me would bring a dozen men into this room. And I’d tell them to throw you in the gutter. Without my money, that’s where you’d stay for the rest of your miserable lives. Am I making myself clear?”

With one swipe of her hand, Regeane sent some of the gold and gems tinkling to the floor. Hugo scrambled after the gold, snatching it up in handfuls and thrusting it into his purse.

Gundabald stood his ground, his chest heaving with rage. “I believe,” he said quietly, “we understand each other.”

“I don’t know about you, Gundabald, but I understand you perfectly. The one and only throw of the dice you have is to reveal my secret to the world. And what would that get you? Tell me!”