Jupiter Myth

LVII

The recoil sent her spinning, but somehow she stayed upright. Open-mouthed, she gasped with horror. She was still holding the weapon, keeping it away from her, as if terrified it would fire another bolt. For a moment no one else could move.

Norbanus was on the floor. Hundreds of defeated tribesmen in this province could testify that it only takes one direct hit from a Roman artillery bolt. We didn't even check for signs of life.

"Oh!" whispered Maia.

"Put it down," Helena murmured. "It won't go off again."

Maia hesitantly lowered the weapon. Petronius walked to her side. He looked more shocked than anyone. Well, if we were right about his feelings, the light of his life had just demonstrated a frightening personality. He took the weapon from her limp grasp, passing on the deadly thing to me.

"It's all right," he said gently. He knew she was in shock. "Everything is all right."

Maia was trembling. For once her voice was barely audible. "Is it?"

Petronius smiled a little, gazing down at her ruefully. "I'm here, aren't I?"

That was when Maia let out a choking sob and collapsed into his arms. I think it was the first time, at least since she reached womanhood, that I had ever seen my sister allow someone else to comfort her. He wrapped her in her own cloak with tender hands, then held her.

Helena met my eyes and wiped away a tear. Then she pointed at the corpse and mouthed, "What are we going to do?"

"Tell the governor a gangster's body needs to be cleared away."

She took a deep breath. Helena always tackled a crisis with logistical thought. "We must tell nobody, ever, who killed him."

"Wey-hey, why not? I'm proud of her!"

"No, no," Petronius joined in. "The children already have to cope with their father's death. They don't want to know their darling mama makes stiffs of professional mobsters on her evenings out."

The darling mama struggled to free herself from his enfolding grasp. "Give up," he said. "I'm not letting go." Maia stilled. Their eyes locked on to each other. Petro's voice dropped. "I thought I had lost you, Maia."

"Would it have mattered?" she asked him.

"Hardly at all," remarked Petronius Longus, who was not normally given to poetic conceits. "Well-maybe just enough to break my heart."