Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [329]
"No," he said, slow and sorrowful. "No, I don't think that's a good idea."
We parted with mutual assurances of goodwill. I left in a pensive mood. There are all sorts of prisons in this world, and Titus Maximius was trapped in one of them. I'd often felt the same way myself before I'd reached my majority. While Tiberium had been my escape, its princeps would never taste freedom. I could not help but pity him.
At least he was shrewder than Deccus Fulvius where his wife was concerned.
"Dagda Mor!" Eamonn shook himself. "I'm glad that's over." He punched my arm and grinned. "Come on, let's go find out what message the lovely Claudia holds for me. If I wait any longer, I'm like to burst."
We arrived at the Fulvii domus unannounced, but not unexpected. A heavy knot of guilt settled into my belly as I entered the atrium, rendered all the worse by Deccus Fulvius' hearty greeting.
He embraced us both, pounding our backs. "Good lads, good lads! By the gods, I'm glad to see that dead madman didn't get you killed!" I smiled at him. "Thanks in large part to you, my lord." "Eh." Deccus shrugged, a twinkle in his eye. "I promised you I'd do my best. I'm an old lion, but not yet toothless." Claudia emerged, a letter in her hand.
She was every inch the Tiberian matron, clad in a demure gown of amber velvet with a high throat, her extravagant hair braided in a coronet. It didn't fool me, not for a heartbeat. I could see the way her breasts moved beneath the velvet, the sway of her hips. I swallowed hard as we exchanged greetings. Eamonn, quivering with impatience, didn't notice. His gaze was fixed on the letter she held.
"Prince Eamonn." She handed it to him. "This is yours."
He tore it open, scanning the page, his lips moving soundlessly.
"Well?" I asked.
Eamonn showed it to me. I thought he'd been reading a lengthy missive, but I was wrong. He must have been uttering a silent prayer, or whispering place-names to himself. There was a crude map of Skaldia drawn on the parchment, with one spot circled over and over again. At the top, it simply read, Come.
"What happened?" There was a note I'd never heard before in his voice. "And when?"
"Ten days ago?" Claudia glanced at her husband for confirmation. "Her brother came for her," she said gently. "I'm afraid that's all we know. One of Master Piero's students brought this, along with the tale that Brigitta was returning to her family in Skaldia. You might question him."
He nodded. "I will."
Out of the dictates of politeness, we stayed for a while longer, sipping wine and telling them all that had transpired since they had left Lucca. This time, the telling fell to me. Eamonn was distracted and restless. I recited the tale of the battle, all the while wracking my wits to find a way to have a private word with Claudia Fulvia. When one of Deccus' colleagues called upon him in a business matter, he excused himself and Eamonn sprang to his feet.
"We should go," he said.
Claudia rose. "I'll show you out."
I let Eamonn hurry ahead and caught her by the arm. "I need to see you."
She turned her head. I could feel her quivering under my grip, but no trace of distress showed in her calm profile. "Afternoon. Erytheia's atelier."
I exhaled hard. "My thanks."
It left me with time to spare. Since I had naught better to do with it, I accompanied Eamonn; and in truth, I wanted to see Master Piero.
Like fools, we searched in the least likely places first, remembering all the tricks he'd played upon us to get us to think and to see. The sun was standing high overhead by the time we thought to look in the Great Forum. People scattered before us, some cursing in irritation, some shouting in recognition. A flock of pigeons rose, wings clattering.
By all rights, we shouldn't be riding roughshod through the city, but Eamonn reckoned the honor Titus Maximius had accorded us was good for the span of a day, and I was in no mind to argue with him.
"Master Piero!" Eamonn shouted.
He was seated