Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [243]
No one said anything. We followed silently and Lucius sat bolt upright in the saddle as he rode, his back as straight as a spear, his hands steady on the reins. For some reason, even that made me uneasy.
The Tadeii villa was gracious and sprawling, occupying a generous tract of land. The gardens were green and lovely, laid out in stately lines. A pair of men-at-arms met us and the captain of the city guard ceded escort duty to them. Lucius rode up the pathway without looking to the right or left. Servants hurried from the stable to take our mounts.
"Careful," I murmured, handing over the Bastard's reins. "He bites."
Lucius was already striding toward the villa. Glancing helplessly at one another, Eamonn, Brigitta, and I followed.
It was an awkward moment, to say the least. We hung back discreetly, though it was difficult. The three of us weren't exactly a discreet trio. In the atrium, I sidled around, trying to get a look at the proceedings. I felt guilty doing it, but something was wrong, very wrong, and I was worried about Lucius.
"Oh, my boy!" It was his mother who greeted him first, her eyes red with weeping. She embraced him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. That sweet girl!"
"Mother." Lucius returned her embrace. "I know."
"Son." His father's voice was hard and dry. He was a tall man with thinning hair and a mouth that had grown bitter with disappointment. One could see at a glance that Lucius and Claudia got their looks from their mother. "The honor of the Tadeii is at stake."
Lucius straightened, his face changing. "Yes, Father."
The air was heavy, too heavy. I struggled to draw breath. There was darkness in the villa, darkness in the city. Darkness, crawling all around Lucius Tadius da Lucca. I backed away from him, bumping into the open doorway of the household lararium. Eamonn shot me a worried look; even Brigitta looked concerned. I shook my head at them.
"Yes, Father!" There was mockery, cruel mockery, in the older Tadius' voice. "Do you expect me to count on. you to restore our honor?"
I leaned in the doorway of the lararium to brace myself. The altar was ablaze with newly lit candles and the offering bowls were full. The wax death-masks of the Tadeii patriarchs were sweating in the heat. One, prominently displayed, had cracked in twain. I reached for it without thinking, holding up the split halves and examining them. It was a strong face, set in cruel lines, scowling.
Only a mask, broken and empty.
I knew, then.
"As opposed to you?" Lucius' voice was mild and insulting; at least until he raised it in a roar. "Ye gods, man! What's become of the Tadeii that you reckon yourself a man?"
I walked out of the lararium carrying the split halves of the death-mask in my hands; past Eamonn and Brigitta, to where Lucius stood. His father was dumbstruck; his mother looked terrified and confused.
Lucius scowled at me. "What's that you've got there, fancy-boy?"
I held up the halves of the mask, framing his scowl between them. I didn't need to see to know it mirrored his own. The resemblance was already etched in my memory, and the chill I'd felt earlier had settled into the marrow of my bones. "What does it look like?"
"Looks like me." He grinned, and it was an expression so unpleasant, I wished he'd scowl instead. "What do you care? Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Imriel," I said. "Who are you?"
Lucius leaned over and spat on the floor with elaborate disdain. "Gallus," he said carelessly. "Gallus Tadius, and if you don't know it by now, you damn well will."
* * *
Chapter Forty-Nine
What followed was pandemonium.
Publius Tadius, Lucius' father, shouted at his son; Lucius shouted back. His mother, Beatrice, wept and begged them to cease. In the midst of it, Claudia and Deccus arrived. She looked at the scene in utter shock.
"What in the world?" she asked.
"Grief's driven your brother mad," Eamonn murmured. "He thinks he's his own ancestor."
I held up the broken halves of the death-mask. "Gallus Tadius." "Lemures!" Deccus, solid Deccus Fulvius, blanched. But the hair on the back of my