Marilyn Todd - Sour Grapes

At least, they pretended they hadn't.

'Bastards!' she said again. 'I hope the whole bloody lot rot in hell.'

It was his father. Hadrian's father had the clout to cover it up, because hadn't Rex been some general in their bloody army? And that was always the root of it, wasn't it? 'Them' and 'us'.

'Because we're Etruscans — commoners — we don't bloody count.'

What counted was money. Connections. Then you could cover up your son's murderous deeds and pass it off as a cheap homosexual quarrel.

'Well, I know,' she spat. 'I know who killed you, little brother, and I don't care what kind of high-flying patrician they've brought in to suppress the truth. That bastard Hadrian is going to pay.'

As it happened, that bastard Hadrian was already paying.

Dawn broke rosy and soft, bathing the vines in its warm rose-pink glow and turning the gnarled black stems to cochineal. Between the rows, hoopoes hopped, their black and white crests erect in courtship, while foxes slunk home and kestrels scythed the air in search of voles. High in the elms that supported the vines, dormice snuggled into a ball, while owls closed sleepy eyes beside their fluffy nestlings. Claudia envied the dormice their dreams. After the events of yesterday evening, she had not slept a wink and her shoulders were stiff from anxiety.

Bad luck begets back luck. (Larentia)

The forces of the supernatural surround each of us, my child. I am merely their instrument. (Candace)

Hard as she tried, Claudia had not been able to convince herself that the soft brush of a hand against her arm was imagination. Claudia, my dove. Or that gentle pat on her head. I've never left you, not for a minute.

Not only do the spirits hear in the dark. It would seem that they also can see…

Do you see weevils on any of these vines? Larentia had snapped. Has the bailiff reported any signs of rust or blight? All my spells work, Candace said.

Strolling beneath the dangling branches, Claudia ran her fingers over the sprouting leaves and was once again struck by how hard these vines had to work. They didn't generate leaf until May, and in the six months before the leaves fell they had to deal with two sessions of hard pruning, flowers, get themselves pollinated and absorb sufficient moisture and sun to swell the grapes into juicy ripe bunches that could be trodden into juicy ripe wine. Oh, yes, they were tough little soldiers. To ensure their roots retained adequate moisture, it wasn't unknown for them to burrow a good sixty feet down — it's a wonder they didn't tickle the heads of the inhabitants of Hades. And isn't it funny how everything keeps coming back to the dead?

Claudia lifted her eyes to the horizon, where the first warming rays of Apollo were painting the sky the same hue as a kingfisher's breast and dabbing it with puffs of white cotton.

'Looking round,' a baritone murmured, 'you see what inspired the vibrancy and colour in Etruscan art and made them such a happy people.'

Dammit, this was another reason she hadn't slept one bloody wink.

'Can't imagine what they had to be happy about, Orbilio. There's sod all for miles except hills, fields and trees and a girl can hardly hear herself think for the racket.'

'I think you might find there's a technical term for that racket.' He pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. 'In the trade, it's known as birdsong.'

Correction, she thought, it was called naked ambition. You could hear it screaming through the air, pulsing up from the ground, proclaiming itself from the treetops, or why else throw her list of crimes back in her face? The truth was, the law had finally caught up with her and since she had no armour against this handsome patrician — bribes were pointless and any little-girl-lost approach would be futile — she might as well succumb to the inevitable. Then bribe and sweet-talk her jailers to freedom!

'So what next? Do you want to clap manacles round my hands and feet here and now?'

Dammit, this was no laughing matter.

'I appreciate the offer,' he spluttered, 'and there's nothing I'd like more — but don't you think we should at least have dinner first? Get to know one another a little better?'

How many times did she have to keep telling herself? He uses urbanity and charm as his bait.

'So.' He cleared the laughter from his throat, but the light that danced in his eye was more stubborn. 'Was last night's marital reunion all you'd hoped it would be?'

'Funnily enough, thank you, it was.'

'Hm.'

He followed as she continued to check the sprouting vines, their leaves as bright as freshly dyed linen, and as the sun climbed, the warble of finches and robins rose with it, while on the ground mice and shrews rustled among the thousands of wild flowers that flourished in this cultivated paradise to form a kaleidoscope of orange marigolds, red pheasant's eye, purple alkanet and lilac campanula.

'Impressive performance last night,' he murmured.

The forces of the supernatural surround each of us, my child. I am merely their instrument.

'Unfortunately, Candace wasn't faking.'

'No indeed. That distinctive sound her body made as it dropped to the floor? You can't feign something like that.'

'The traditional dead weight. Yes, I know.' Claudia nodded glumly, because up until the moment the lights went out in the dining hall, she'd been convinced that Candace was a hen who clucked loudly but laid no eggs. However, since Candace had taken no part in last night's proceedings… 'Thalia may have overreacted when the lights came back on, but I'm not sure I blame her.'

'Me neither. You saw the depth of Candace's breathing, the beads of sweat on her brow, the time it took to bring her round.'

And that was the problem. No charlatan can fake that kind of thick speech, much less those rolling eyes. That faint had been genuine. As had the smooth skin on the inside of her forearm. Not so much as a scratch…

'Friends of yours?' Marcus asked, squinting across to the paddock to where donkeys chomped on the dew-laden grass, rabbits chased each other in circles and two silhouettes performed elegant gymnastics.

'Candace's groom and maidservant,' Claudia explained. 'According to Larentia, they're Hebrew twins called Judith and Ezekiel that Candace picked up on her travels, and frankly they make my flesh creep.'

'Handsome couple.'

'Exactly. Well into their twenties, so why aren't they married? And watch how they synchronize every movement, slowly, methodically repeating them until they're perfect.' Again, she was struck by how close their foreheads were when they stopped, and even at this distance she could almost hear their irritating whisper-whisper-whisper on the still morning air. 'They behave more like professional dancers than servants, and they don't mix with anyone else; they don't even talk to anyone else. Admit it, Marcus, that's odd.'

'Not necessarily.' He paused. Spiked his fingers through his thick mop of dark hair. 'Occasionally one hears about twins who grow exceptionally close, even inventing their own secret language. To you and me it's… well, unnatural I suppose is the word, but often this bonding comes about as the result of childhood trauma, and you have to remember that to them it's perfectly normal for two minds and bodies to act as one.'

'That's my point. If Judith and Ezekiel have two brains, two hearts, two sets of organs and limbs but only the one personality, imagine what that personality is capable of.'

'Now who's overreacting?'

She shrugged. 'Blame the… what did you call that thing?'

'Birdsong.'

'Yes, well, blame that if I'm overreacting, but I'm telling you I don't trust those two an inch.'

His shadow kept pace with hers as they reached the end of one line and turned down the next. 'Is Larentia really going to marry Darius?' he asked eventually.