Marilyn Todd - Sour Grapes

'Did anyone come in while Vorda was dancing?'

'Lady Claudia!' Timi's face was a picture of outrage. 'Lady Claudia, this is a bridal chamber. The girls dance before their bridegroom in absolute privacy. I stand guard outside myself and no one — I repeat, no one — may intrude upon this sacred space while the girls rouse Fufluns' passion!'

Claudia tried to picture Flavia arousing anyone's passion, much less a veteran godly seducer, but contented herself that whatever rabbits Timi managed to pull out of the hat, at least Flavia would learn discipline in the process, and god knows she needed it. Her foster parents had overindulged her and their authority had grown lax, enabling Flavia to give them the slip and meet Orson on the quiet.

Orson!

Bugger.

Between arranging for Flavia to dance on the full moon and sorting out the Darius affair, Claudia had completely forgotten about Orson! In the quiet of the maze now, she prayed to Justice and Fortune that the ugly lug had got that preposterous notion of helping Rosenna out of his head, because forget what Orbilio said — evil had already tapped two seventeen-year-old boys on the shoulder. And two was more than enough…

Reaching for the second goblet, she wondered just how much evil there was around here. Lichas was dead. Tages was in danger. Vorda had taken her own life. Moreover, five men had been brought to the brink of ruin through hardship or emotional distress, sometimes both, their families dragged through hell with them. Now the descendants and dependants of the sixth witness were about to be put through the same mill, and what could Claudia do?

She couldn't alert the authorities. Without proof, they'd laugh her out of the barracks — and, dammit, if the five men who were responsible for Felix's conviction don't recognize him, how on earth was she going to prove they were the same man? The fact that Darius doesn't look anything like Felix is immaterial, but the authorities wouldn't see it that way. They would agree with her that any man who intended coming back to Mercurium to wreak vengeance on those who had wronged him was hardly likely to announce himself — but they'd be expecting Felix to adopt a disguise by growing a beard or something else obvious, something that could be denounced immediately. Darius was far more subtle.

Indigo says Darius is clever.

Through the mouths of babes, Claudia thought. Through the mouths of babes!

What was it Amanda asked, peering closely at the razor in his room? Why does Darius shave his head?

At the time, Claudia dismissed it as a childish mistake, but now she realized it was no error. No doubt ten years down the silver mines hones revenge to the sharpest of points, but who'd have thought that by shaving his head and combing the rest of his hair over it, Caesar-style, it could pass as a disguise? Darius wasn't balding at all. He just pretended to be — and what were the odds that Felix had had a thick head of hair? Curly hair, too, because Darius kept his closely cropped. She could not use his cough as proof of working the silver mines any more than she could show he took balm of Gilead buds as a painkiller against the bad back that ten years' hard labour had undoubtedly bequeathed. Since the leaves were a well-known remedy for unproductive coughs, who's to say an apothecary hadn't muddled the physician's prescription? Dammit, everything about Felix was different.

Ten years of swallowing dust had left him with an unrecognizable gravel voice.

Ten years of wielding a pickaxe had bestowed on him an athlete's body.

Ten years of shifting rocks had changed the way he walked, his gestures, even his nature.

But take this to the authorities and they'd see nothing more than the bleatings of a self-seeking widow whose stepfather was about to wrest control of a business which, as a woman, she shouldn't be running anyway — and besides! She's already had her two years of state-allocated mourning. Doesn't the law decree she should re-marry?

That was one jar of worms Claudia had no intention of opening up — and, dammit, she couldn't confide her suspicions to Larentia, either. Not without concrete evidence to prove Darius was a monster who had nothing but hardship and humiliation lined up for his bride! The fact that he'd packed no cameo of his late wife surely showed admirable tact and discretion for a man about to be married. A lack of personal mementoes reveals a simplistic nature, a trait the parsimonious Larentia would admire. And how can you say he's spent all this money on the villa to feather his own future nest, when there's no proof he's not the real Darius? No, no, the minute Claudia started to discredit her suitor, Larentia would view it as mischief-making and go running to Darius.

Can't have that. If Darius thinks the game's up, his most likely course of action is to run. Five out of six ain't bad, he could argue, and he'd disappear into the mist before you could say 'retribution and justice'.

'You're not going to get away with this, you bastard.'

Not when so many people have suffered so horribly for his petty grudge, and right now he's proud of his achievements. Devastation has rippled round their families like an earthquake, leaving death and destruction in its wake, while not so much as one finger of suspicion points back at him. What better time to attack than when he's sure of himself?

But to attack, Claudia needed weapons — weapons she didn't have, because the best way to attack this man was through facts and either Larentia was unaware of Gaius's involvement at Felix's trial (women not being privy to men's business) or she'd forgotten it, because she certainly hadn't connected the epidemic of bad luck to the other witnesses. Why should she? In all her years at the villa, she'd mixed with the same people, led the same narrow life, and even though she'd started out as the wife of a common road builder, she'd risen far enough through society not to mix with the likes of millers and tavern-keepers. And if the paper merchant and the brick-maker viewed their calamities as nothing more than misfortune, all the more reason to place her faith in Candace. Were Claudia to broach the subject of Felix's trial with Larentia, it was more than likely the old bat would ask Candace to contact him the next time she walked with the spirits. Sod that.

Realizing the second goblet was empty, Claudia reached for a third.

Undoubtedly, the best source of information had a rich baritone voice and carried a faint hint of sandalwood around with him, but she couldn't go to Orbilio, either. As much as the newly installed head of the Aquitanian Security Police would love the credit for solving a case involving treason, even he couldn't take too long an extended furlough. He was close to cracking this business of Lichas's murder, which meant he'd be heading back to Gaul in the middle of his investigations into Felix, thereby dumping the case back on to the local authorities — and, excuse me, haven't we been through this already?

Shit. Claudia drained the glass and hurled it into the laurels, where it smashed into a thousand satisfactory smithereens. Overhead, stars twinkled brightly, with no hint of the clouds that had left such a deluge overnight. She watched them tramp slowly round the heavens and thought, fine. All these are things I can't do about Darius.

Let's work on the things that I can.

The God of Revenge simply laughed.

There you are, you poor thing.' A sandy mop tutted sympathetically over the top of the topiary. 'Lars said he'd spotted you entering the maze by yourself, but that was simply ages ago. Come, my dear.' Terrence offered his arm. 'I'll show you a sneaky way out.'

Claudia was about to point out that she wasn't actually lost, when he reached down and suddenly one of the neatly clipped laurels turned a ninety-degree right-angle to reveal a gap in the hedge for them to pass through.