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"Good men," he murmured. "Good plan. Stick to it."

"Where's Gallus Tadius?" someone called. Others took up the call, turning it into a chant. "Gall-us, Gall-us, Gall-us!"

Captain Arturo winced. "Resting, damn you!" he shouted. "The man opened a portal to hell! Can you not give him a moment's peace?" With an effort, he gathered himself. "He'll be with you by daybreak," he said curtly. "We're keeping a watch. Valpetra's men won't attack before then."

Some cheered; some groaned. I understood both parties. The waiting was hard.

Captain Arturo raised his hands and spoke, trying to placate them.

The captain's lieutenant snaked through the crowd, clambering over the tiered benches. It was the young one, the one with the rosy cheeks and the peach-fuzz. The one Gallus Tadius had struck. Wrapped in my cloak, I watched him come. I didn't realize he was coming for me until he leaned down, whispering in my ear like an inept lover.

"He wants to see you!" he hissed.

I knew.

I'd known since I saw Gallus Tadius cast his death-mask into the waters. But I couldn't show it, not here. I sat up, raking a hand through my damp hair. "I'll come," I said quietly, settling my helmet on my head and grabbing my gear.

I told Eamonn what I was about, and he gave me a puzzled nod. I did my best to slip away unobtrusively, following Captain Arturo and his lieutenant through the streets of Lucca. There were a few people about, cleaning up flood-borne debris, but for the most part the citizens of Lucca huddled in the upper stories of their homes. The flood may have been banished, but Valpetra's army had not.

They led me to the Temple of Jupiter. It hadn't been spared by the flood, but the god's mighty effigy was none the worse for wear. He sat in his marble throne, staring out toward the entrance with a fierce gaze. Captain and lieutenant alike offered a salute in passing, touching their fingers to their brows, and I followed suit. At the doorway that led out of the main chamber, the flamen dialis met us. He looked weary, too.

"Prince Imriel." He inclined his head. "This way."

There was a small sanctuary beyond the central chamber where the water hadn't penetrated. They'd laid a pallet in there, piled high with pillows. A half a dozen candles were blazing atop the small altar and in niches built into the walls. I entered, gazing at the figure reclining on the pallet.

Lucius.

He looked awful. Beyond weary, beyond exhausted. Even by candlelight, his satyr's face was haggard and grey. Still, he shoved himself upright as I entered, and a trace of his old smile flickered. "Montrève."

"Lucius." I set down my buckler and spear, removed my helmet, and sat on the edge of his pallet. "He's gone, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so."

* * *

Chapter Sixty-One

We didn't speak of it at once. The lieutenant had stayed behind, but Captain Arturo entered the sanctuary after me. Lucius listened to his report, then nodded. "Thank you," he said. "Tell me… tell me if anything changes."

"Aye, sir." There was fear in his eyes, and a question writ large. What will you do if it does? He knew. But all he said was, "The men are counting on you, my lord. Your men."

"I know," Lucius said. "I'll be there."

The captain hesitated, then departed with a salute. Once he had gone, Lucius gave a shuddering sigh and buried his face in his hands. A deep tremor shook him.

"Sweet Apollo," he said in a muffled voice. "I can't do this."

"I think you may have to," I said quietly.

"I know," he said. "Believe me, I do."

"How much do you remember?" I asked him.

"Enough." Lucius raised his head and gave the ghost of a smile. "Knowledge is a slippery thing, Montrève. But I know what he had planned. I still do." He studied me, his hazel eyes steady in their sunken hollows. "You weren't surprised."

"No," I said. "I knew it when he dropped the mask."

"He knew." Lucius shivered. "Sweet Apollo, he knew."

I propped my elbows on my knees. "He was making atonement, Lucius."