Gameboard of the Gods

CHAPTER 23 THE BALLAD OF MAE AND PORFIRIO

Justin listened as Tessa went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and then headed off to her room. When he heard her bedroom door close, he finally spoke to the stone-faced prætorians.

“So,” he said. “You must be friends with Mae.”

And then the most extraordinary thing happened. The terrifying prætorians started cracking up. The man actually burst into outright laughter and nearly had tears in his eyes. The woman buried her face in him and shook as she tried to keep her own laughter quiet.

“Oh,” he told her, “that was so mean. And hilarious.”

The woman was still trying not to giggle. “Really? The Miscreant Terrorist Girls’ Reform Camp?”

“It was all I could think of on the spot,” he said. “And it worked, didn’t it? Did you see her face? Poor kid.”

Justin looked between them, not entirely sure how to handle this situation. He’d accepted that his life was becoming increasingly surreal these days, but it apparently still held new and exciting ways to surprise him. “Would…you like to come in for a drink?” He remembered belatedly that alcohol was useless on prætorians, but it seemed like appropriate compensation. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but instinct told him the prætorians might have just done Tessa a huge favor.

“Sure,” said the woman. She held out her hand without hesitation. “Valeria Jardin. My friends call me Val, and you can definitely be one of my friends.” Justin often likened Mae to a lioness when she was ready to fight. There was something feline about Val too, but of an entirely different nature. She was sleek and sensuous—but most certainly had claws of her own.

“Back off,” the man warned Val. “You heard what she said.”

“Mae?” asked Justin. “What did she say?”

“She said you were cute,” said Val.

The prætorian man rolled his eyes. “She did not. She just told you to stay away.”

“That’s practically an admission of lust from her.”

“It is not. She just doesn’t want you complicating things, Val.”

Val looked up at Justin through long lashes, a demure look in her dark eyes. “I never complicate anything,” she purred. “Not too much, at least.”

“I need that drink,” the guy prætorian said, stepping around her. “Hope you’re well stocked.”

“Extremely,” said Justin. He was still a little mystified. “I didn’t catch your name…?”

“Dag,” called the man, not elaborating on whether that was his first or last name. He was already striding toward the kitchen, with the self-assurance of one who knew he could go anywhere.

Justin showed them the liquor cabinet, which met with their approval. They grabbed two bottles each and looked at him expectantly. “Out to the patio,” he said. He took a bottle of bourbon for himself and three glasses, not that the prætorians seemed to need any vessels. “Everyone else is asleep.”

The expansive backyard patio was far away from the bedrooms, which were clustered together. Like everything else around here, it was opulent and lovely. It had a slate floor set with patina-covered furniture and a trellised cover wrapped with vines that offered protection on hot days. A fire pit sat off to the side, ready with warmth on cooler days. The whole area was ripe and ready for entertaining, but backyard parties hadn’t exactly been on Justin’s agenda recently. He never would have guessed he’d be breaking it in with two prætorians.

Both of Dag’s bottles were whiskey. He set one on the table and then immediately began drinking the other, no glass required.

“Isn’t that”—Justin groped for the right words—“kind of a waste? With the implant and everything?”

“He’s slamming the implant,” explained Val. She opened a bottle of tequila. “If he can down that bottle in a couple minutes, he’ll get a buzz. A short one, but hey, you take what you can get.” From the way she then dove into her own bottle, she was apparently “slamming” her implant as well.

This was news to Justin. “Seems like you’d mostly get alcohol poisoning.”

“Nah.” Dag paused in his drinking. He was about halfway through the bottle. “The implant will catch up. I’m just getting a head start.”

“I see.” Justin watched them continue their binge drinking and felt a little lame for sipping his own drink. He had no delusions about trying to keep up, though. He’d probably have been dead already.

They both finished and looked supremely pleased with themselves. Dag gave Val a high five. “There it is.”

She sighed happily and settled back into her chair. “Fun end to a fun night.”

“What happened tonight?” Justin asked. “Why is Tessa a terrorist?”

That brought the grins back. “She scaled the wall into the National Gardens,” said Dag. “Happens every once in a while. I mean, there’s so much surveillance there that they’re always spotted before they even get to the wall, but they should really cut that fucking tree down.”

Justin didn’t even hear the part about the tree. “Tessa broke into the gardens? Why would she do that?”

“Because kids do that with other kids,” said Val. “And she was drunk.”

Justin nearly dropped his glass. “No. Not her. No way.”

Dag actually looked sympathetic. “I know it’s hard to accept, but no matter how innocent you think they are, teenage girls are always going to do things you don’t want to believe.”

“Oh, I have no delusions about teen girls, believe me. But not her. If you knew her, you’d understand. Hell, she put on her first pair of jeans two weeks ago and still gets freaked out about how cars have no drivers.”

Val laughed. “Well, she was lucky this time, so keep her out of trouble. Next time federal security drags her in, she may not have two gallant heroes to rescue her.”

“Something tells me there won’t be a repeat.” Justin toyed with his glass and used the opportunity to mull over their story. “How’d you know who she was?”

“Finn—er, Mae—told us everything, and there aren’t that many Panamanian girls wandering Vancouver.” Dag was already eyeing the second bottle. “Then we just tracked you down.”

Justin thought back on recent events. “Mae did too good a job at teaching her to climb trees.”

That made Dag laugh. “She’s good at everything. You should see her in combat.”

Val nodded along with Dag’s words. “I mean, we’re all good, but she’s really good. Even before she had the implant, she was kicking ass. She got a lot of crap for being castal when she joined the guard. I think she beat up three people that first day, and no one ever messed with her again. Well, not in our cohort, of course.”

Justin knew enough about prætorians to understand the color-coded system. Their pip color was visible in the dim light. “Red cohort?”

“Scarlet,” they said in unison.

“Why do you call her Finn? She already fits into your monosyllabic club.”

They found that hilarious. “Dag couldn’t remember her name back then,” said Val. “But we could all remember she was Nordic. Hard not to. And ‘Finn’ is a cuter nickname than ‘Swede.’”

Silence fell as the prætorians cracked into their second bottles. Justin still couldn’t get over the weirdness of this situation. Before that miscreant-camp nonsense, even he’d been taken aback when they’d shown up at his door. The faces…the posture…those uniforms. His own heart had nearly stopped. He’d also seen Mae in action enough to appreciate just how lethal prætorians could be.

Which made it completely ludicrous that he now had two of them before him, trying desperately to get drunk as they made wisecracks and congratulated themselves over a prank played on a teenage girl. The government took nearly 40 percent of his paycheck, and he felt kind of affronted that this was what his taxes paid for.

“And so you guys are guarding the gardens?”

Dag nodded. “Yup. Pretty sweet deal. Easy work and lots of time off.”

“I’m free tomorrow night,” said Val meaningfully.

“I kind of miss the field.” Dag stared wistfully at his bottle. “I’m ready for action.”

Val touched his arm. “Soon enough. Maybe we’ll go together. Maybe Finn too. They can’t stick her with this job forever.” She glanced up at Justin. “No offense.”

That instinct rose up in Justin, the one that said something was about to happen. “Why would I be offended?” He examined her words. “And what do you mean she’s stuck?”

“You don’t know?” Val looked legitimately puzzled. “You’re punishment.”

“That’s harsh. I mean, someone had to be with him, right? It’s not like they just designed this job to teach her a lesson.” Dag turned thoughtful. “But I don’t think she would’ve gotten it if she hadn’t done what she did. She’d be with us in the gardens.”

The big man sounded sad, but there was almost an accusatory note in his voice. Justin didn’t know if it was directed toward him, Mae, or some other mysterious factor. All he knew was that he was being left behind in this conversation, and he needed to catch up. The idea of his being someone’s punishment didn’t make any sense.

Horatio laughed, inasmuch as a raven could. Right. Because how could your company be anything but a delight?

“What did she do? Why is she being taught a lesson?”

Val and Dag exchanged looks. Their happy-go-lucky natures had vanished. “I don’t know if we should tell,” said Dag slowly. “I mean, if she hasn’t told him, maybe she doesn’t want him to know.”

“Well, it’s not exactly a big secret,” Val pointed out, a bit of her swagger returning. “Hell, practically every prætorian knows the Ballad of Mae and Porfirio.” She laughed at her own word choice, and Dag soon joined in.

But Justin wasn’t amused. He was too caught up in the glimmer of insight he was starting to feel. “Porfirio…that’s him, isn’t it? The beach guy.”

Val turned from Dag. “She did tell you.”

“No…not exactly.” How could he explain all the telltale signs he’d gathered? The way she wouldn’t meet his eyes when any whisper of this came up, the way her whole body went still. “I just kind of guessed something was going on.”

“Oh, believe me, I don’t think you could guess all of this. It’s one of those stranger-than-fiction things.” She looked back at Dag. “Do you want to tell it?”

“You start,” he said. “I’ll correct you when you’re wrong.”

She elbowed him with a force that would’ve knocked an ordinary person out of his chair. “I know the story. I was there when it happened.”

“So stop wasting time, and tell it,” Dag ordered.

“Fine, fine.” Val took a deep breath. “So, about two years ago, we were at this party. Since it was an election year, they had a bunch of us in town—it’ll happen later this year too. Too many important people around who need protection. Guarding politicians is a lot like guarding the gardens. Lots of ceremony, lots of time off—and lots of ree parties. One night, this guy—Maize, I think—rented out a whole hall. I swear, half the guard was there.”

“Wasn’t it his engagement party?” interjected Dag.

“Maybe. I don’t remember.”

“See? I knew you wouldn’t.”

“I know the important parts,” she snapped.

“The party,” said Justin, trying to get them back on track. “Ree. Half the guard.”

“Right,” said Val. “Okay, so yeah. Lots of us there, lots of us trashed. Dag’s walking to the bar and overhears this group of Indigos. One of them’s bragging how he used to do canne de combat. Do you know that sport?”

“I must’ve missed that somewhere,” Justin told her.

“It’s nuts,” said Dag. “Imagine fencing with wooden poles. And a lot of acrobatics.”

Justin could not imagine that. “It’s a real sport?”

“Yup. Finn’s awesome at it.” Dag looked as proud as he would have been of a star pupil. “Castals really dig it, but you find plebeian leagues too.”

Val was ready to move on with the story. “So, this Indigo guy, Porfirio, is—was—an ex-castal. Iberian.” Outside Mae’s caste, Justin realized. “And so, he’s there bragging about how great he used to be, and someone feels the need to call him out.” She paused and shot a glare at Dag.

“Hey,” he said, throwing his hands up indignantly. “You should have heard him. He was an arrogant prick. He always was, right up to the end. He needed to be put in his place.”

Val pointed accusingly. “If you’d kept your mouth shut, none of this would’ve happened.”

Dag fell silent, contemplating her words.

“So,” she continued. “Dag tells this guy—Porfirio—how his cohort sister could totally kick his ass. This gets the Indigos all riled up, and everyone starts making bets. The next thing I know, Porfirio’s swaggering up to the table I’m at with Finn, ready for a fight she doesn’t even know about.”

“Arrogant. Prick,” muttered Dag.

“That one Azure guy was hitting on her, you know.” Val’s brow furrowed in thought. “Albright, that’s it. He’s a nice guy. If you’d left well enough alone, she might have gone home with him. It would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

“Stop getting on me for stuff that’s already happened!” Now Dag pointed reproachfully at her. “And you know it never would’ve worked with Albright. She’s all stiffly proper in every part of her life, except relationships. Then she somehow ends up with the most messed-up guys out there. Cocky. Full of themselves. Makes me want to punch all of them.”

Justin shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

Somehow, despite constantly distracting each other, the two of them managed to relate the most bizarre story about Mae wagering sex in a fight involving sticks. In his mind’s eye, he could perfectly picture Mae—fast, deadly, graceful—engaging in this duel. He leaned forward, riveted by the drama of the story.

“It was all foreplay,” said Val as she neared the ending. “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

“What happened?” asked Justin. “Who won?”

Both Val and Dag hesitated. “I’m not really sure,” she said.

“What? I thought you guys were there.”

“Oh, we were,” she said adamantly. “But it just went on forever. We got bored, and then this fight broke out in the Violets because one of them was cheating or something…so, we all just went over there.”

Justin was stunned. How could Val and Dag have been leading up to this big, climactic moment, only to drop the story now? Even more incredible was how blasé they were about it.

It doesn’t inspire much faith in the country’s defenses, does it? asked Horatio.

Justin agreed. Let’s just hope they’re more competent on the battlefield.

“I think she won,” said Dag. “Porfirio cut his hair the next day.”

“No,” said Val. “I think he won. I saw her. You know that look she gets after sex. She’s less tense for, like, five minutes.”

“Maybe they both won,” he said.

“Or lost,” suggested Val.

Justin wanted to beat his head on the table. Instead, he poured another glass of bourbon. “Is there more to this? What about the part where I’m punishment?”

Val gave up on analyzing the fight’s outcome. “I’m getting to that.”

Maybe by tomorrow, said Magnus.

“Whatever happened, they were together after that. And they were glorious. Her all fair and gold, him like some dark Mediterranean god.”

“He wasn’t that good-looking,” grumbled Dag.

“Yes, he was,” she retorted. “They didn’t serve together much. Word gets around, even to the higher-ups, and they keep couples apart so there’s no conflict of interest. But whenever they had time off together, they’d hole up and stay in bed for days.” Val’s gaze shifted inward. “I think she was happy.”

“Apparently not,” said Dag ominously.

“Maybe.” Val focused on Justin again. “About six months ago, he proposed. I don’t know how he did it. He was always over-the-top, so I’m sure it was something gorgeous and dramatic. Didn’t matter, though. She said no.”

“Why?” Justin was getting hooked again and was barely aware of how much bourbon he was taking down.

Val shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s her business. But he certainly had all sorts of theories. He blew up and went off on her about everything. It was all behind closed doors, but I heard enough of it from her. He accused her of not being able to commit. He said she was too proud to leave her caste. He even told her she must have been cheating on him. I think he was pretty desperate to rationalize why she wouldn’t run off into the sunset with him. Whatever it was, it got pretty ugly, and if I had been there to see it, I would’ve made sure he never fucked anything again.”

Dag nodded in agreement, and Justin once again looked into the faces of the prætorians who’d been at his doorstep. No more levity. No more antics. They were hard and deadly, and if Porfirio had been there right now, Justin was pretty sure they would’ve ripped him apart.

They love her, said Magnus.

Justin agreed. Yes, they do.

Unhinged, wacky, lethal…these prætorians were many things, but they were also devoted to Mae with an intensity he rarely saw in the world. And although she hadn’t mentioned them yet, he would have wagered all he had that she felt the same way about them.

How does devotion like that happen? he asked. Is it because they have all that national loyalty drilled into them, and it just gets transferred to those they serve with?

There doesn’t have to be anything complex behind love, said Magnus. People just care about each other…because they do. Friends are like that. Lovers are like that. You should try it sometime.

I love Cyn and Quentin. Are you going to demean that?

No, that’s real, conceded Magnus.

Who are they more loyal to? Each other or the RUNA?

The ravens didn’t answer.

“Porfirio didn’t take it very well,” said Val, finally gaining enough control to continue on with the story. “He kind of got out of control. He wanted to prove himself. And he wanted to get away from her. He requested an assignment over in Europe—you know what a mess that is.”

“I do,” said Justin. Europe had never been a consideration for his exile. “What happened to him?”

“He died,” said Val simply. Her and Dag’s faces were grave. “Killed in combat from some explosion. I don’t know the details. I don’t want to know. When word got back, a lot of people—especially his cohort—said what happened was her fault.”

“It wasn’t,” said Dag fiercely. “That was that bastard’s own mistake.”

Val obviously agreed. “But plenty didn’t think so—still don’t. His funeral was three weeks ago, and one of the Indigos picked a fight over it.”

Dag lit up a little. “Finn cleaned the floor with that bitch. It was amazing. Kind of scary too. I mean, like we said, she’s good…but wow. It was unreal.”

“It was real enough to our superiors,” said Val dryly. “Drunken fights at parties are one thing. Disorderly conduct at a military funeral is completely different. She spent some time in confinement and then got officially reprimanded. They stripped her of her uniform and—”

“Wait,” Justin interrupted. “What’s that mean?”

“It means she can’t wear a prætorian’s uniform until the ban is lifted. If she has to go in military wear, it’s got to be gray and maroon.” Val’s eyes were troubled, filled with sympathy for her friend. “It’s a pretty big deal.”

A uniform didn’t sound like a big deal, but every cue from Val and Dag said it was. After a little consideration, Justin could understand it. The prætorians were very, very self-satisfied, confident in their power and position. The uniforms were a symbol of that. They were part of the public’s image of them: deadly, black-clad warriors. The greatest in the Republic. Being denied that had to be like losing a part of oneself, and with a pang, he suddenly realized why Mae had been so hostile when he’d suggested she dress up to meet Dennis.

“She also got cut from both active duty and ceremonial duty.” Val allowed a dramatic pause as the story finally neared its end. “She got assigned to you.”

“And that’s why I’m a punishment,” he concluded. They nodded, and Justin made no attempt to conceal his feelings.

“Don’t take it personally,” said Dag, almost kindly. “Your life’s kind of exciting.”

“But it could be a lot better,” said Justin.

A long pause followed, and then Dag repeated, “Don’t take it personally.”

Justin managed to summon his customary smile—though it was harder than usual tonight—and act as though he was taking this all in stride and had enjoyed their lively story. He tried to think of a topic that wasn’t his being a punishment.

“I’m kind of surprised she was openly involved with someone who wasn’t Nordic,” he said. An outside castal was considered the same as a plebeian. “I figured she would’ve been put in some well-arranged marriage.”

“Her?” Val’s earlier levity returned. “Hell, I don’t think she’s ever dated a Nordic guy. At least not as long as I’ve known her.”

“But she’s still got Nordic citizenship. Seems like she’d want to stay on good terms.”

“Apparently not as much as she wants to sleep with dark-haired guys,” said Dag. “And as long as she’s not married or knocked up, she can flaunt a guy she really likes as much as she wants.”

A couple of things about that bothered Justin. One was that Mae had lied about her inability to be with someone like him. The other was the subtle assumption that she hadn’t “flaunted” him because he wasn’t a guy she really liked. She was still off-limits, but that old sting to his pride remained.

He finished his current glass and offered them more, but a check of the time made the prætorians realize they were missing another party.

“Thanks for the hospitality,” Val said, standing up. She touched his cheek. “I’ll have to repay you sometime.”

“Val,” warned Dag.

She merely laughed and gave Justin a wink as she sauntered out. Dag started to follow and then turned back. “Leave your girl hanging for most of tomorrow. Then finally tell her you got a call from the authorities, and they’re letting her off—this time. It’ll stop it from happening again.”

“Thanks for the parenting tip.”

Dag grinned and left with Val.

Justin stayed at the table and poured another glass. There was a storm of emotions raging within him, something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He was hurt. Hurt, sad, and angry. He gulped down half the bourbon and slammed it on the table.

He felt like an idiot.

It hadn’t seemed possible that his tangled relationship with Mae could get any weirder. Apparently, he was wrong. Looking back on everything now, he felt sick thinking about some of his behaviors.

You’re sick because you’ve been drinking too much, like usual, said Horatio.

I’m sick because she’s been keeping this tragic love story locked inside her. How long does it take to get over something like that? I knew she was sad in Panama. I could see it, but I went for it anyway. I shouldn’t have.

You didn’t know. And you were drunk then as well, said the raven.

Magnus was kinder. You didn’t act alone. She went for it too, and she was sober.

Why? asked Justin.

Because women find you attractive. Magnus’s tone suggested he didn’t entirely understand that. And you were sad too. Like calls to like.

My life has improved since then, Justin reflected. Well, kind of. But hers got worse. I knew she wasn’t thrilled about an irregular assignment, but I didn’t know I was a punishment! And here I’ve been the whole time, arrogant and presumptuous, giving her a hard time over what happened between us, just because I was offended she wasn’t drooling over me. I’m as shallow as she claims.

When the ravens didn’t deny it, Justin stood up on unsteady legs. “I’m going to see her.”

That’s a bad idea, said Horatio as Justin went inside.

It wouldn’t be my first, Justin replied.

A check in the mirror showed he was presentable. His clothes were neat and unwrinkled. Every hair was in place. He didn’t even look that drunk.

He could feel the ravens’ incredulity at that last thought.

He double-checked Mae’s address and then caught the purple line downtown. A transfer took him out to her neighborhood, an older but upscale district with well-established trees and pretty brick buildings. Mae lived in a town house with cherry trees out front, and he paused to admire it as he stood outside. It wasn’t quite as sleek as his last apartment had been, but it was still the kind of place he should’ve ended up in, rather than his sister’s house. He really needed to fix that and move to the city.

He braced himself as he went up the stairs, trying to stay cool in the flood of anxiety and eagerness filling him. He still didn’t know what he was going to say, but if he talked to her, they could fix things. He needed to make sense of all of this, to understand why—

“Hello?”

A strange man opened the door. He only wore jeans, showing off a bodybuilder’s chest. He had sandy-colored hair that looked damp from recent washing. After a few initial moments of shock, Justin decided that he must have the wrong place.

“I—I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

The man gave him an easy smile, and Justin realized he wasn’t a stranger after all. He was one of the prætorians from the senate. “You looking for Kosk—er, Mae?”

Justin could only give a mute nod.

“Come in, and I’ll get her.” The guy stepped aside. “She just got out of the shower.”