Scorpion Rising

Thirty-One

Claudia stood on the footbridge while the fury of tempest whipped up the stream, swirled the treetops around and sent branches crashing down to the earth. Down the valley, the wind howled like a mother bereaved. Like a wild beast tormented by pain. Rocks tumbled down the arrowhead like pebbles.

She thought of the men and women who'd taken shelter in the caves, making their home in the cavern and leaving their art and their handprints for posterity. She saw them snug under the skins of the bears that they worshipped, a fire keeping them warm through the cold winter nights, water keeping them clean. A safe place. A holy place. A place where the spirits of the living were locked for eternity, but not in the form of souls or ghosts. It was their energy that remained trapped in the cave, as their dynamism and drive lingered on through millennia… And now she had tainted their memory with blood.

Not Ptian's.

If Beth's dragon existed, he was welcome to the feast. Claudia was thinking of Manion. Of the fiery young man who'd spoken up against Rome and was shunned by his tribe for stirring up trouble. In his fervour to rid his country of the oppressors, he'd seen revolt as the only solution, and when revolution needs funding and crime pays handsome dividends, he'd seen a way to liberate Gaul. Gathering together hundreds of equally disenchanted outcasts, he formed a militia and armed it with the proceeds of crime. And in doing so, realized he'd created a monster.

These things Gabali told her as they made their way back from the Pit.

That it was this revelation that made Manion study his enemy, Rome, and see that a small bunch of warriors, no matter how zealous, could not hope to take on the might of the Empire and win. It would only end in bloodshed and heartache, with villages razed in retribution, whole tribes taken as prisoners of war, women sold into slavery, men put down the mines, any surviving militia executed for sport. Ptian had refused to listen. He decried Manion's arguments as cowardice and capitulation, citing this erosion of passion as yet another reason to rid Aquitania of its oppressors. At which point, Manion realized that here was a young buck looking to oust the herd's leader. From now on he'd need to watch his back.

But Ptian had learned well from the master. The phoenix proved as slippery as the scorpion when it came to being pinned down.

But using Gabali's acquaintance with the College, Manion exploited Ptian's misogyny by contriving for him a job in the very heart of the society he hated. He'd weighed the risks carefully, Gabali explained, knowing that Ptian's obsession might well explode in bloodshed. But it was the only way Manion could set a trap on his own terms, using himself as the bait, and he'd attached himself to Orbilio as the first step to rehabilitation. Gabali was a link to them both.

Maybe not, as Claudia first said, an innocent man. But a reformed man, who'd dedicated himself to ridding Gaul of rebels with the same passion he'd used to incite them. A man who regretted his past and wanted to make amends.

What I want is my life back.

Instead, she took it away…

Her finger went to her mouth, to the place where Manion had wiped away the drizzle of honey, and as she felt once more the sensuousness of his touch. While in her hand, a carved scorpion burned 'Listen, lady, if you're going to stand around in the rain, have the decency to do it out of sight of my cave. Moping depresses the patient.'

She stared down at the malevolent scowl and hoped no one would tell him what a good soul he was, it would kill him.

'Yes, how is Pod?' she asked.

Gurdo grunted. 'As far as the College is concerned, it's a fever, but ifyou think I'm going to catch pneu-bloody-monia talking about him in the rain, think again, Lofty Legs.'

Grabbing her arm, he dragged her along the path to the cave.

'Pod'll be fine.' He had to shout over the howl of the wind. 'He hardly knew Sarra, it was more puppy love, he'll get over her, given time, though between you and me, Lofty Legs, that boy had me worried. First Clytie, then Sarra.'

When he shook his head, drips flew off his ponytail, splattering Claudia's arm.

'I don't know what happened to the lad before I found him wandering the reed beds, but it was nasty, that much I can tell you. Enough to wipe his memory clean and trigger a breakdown when he found those poor cows, but — ' he shrugged — 'could have been worse, I suppose.'

So that was what put a spring in his step. Knowing Pod wasn't a killer.

'Here.' In the cave, he threw a blanket round Claudia's wet shoulders and shoved her without ceremony towards a heap of blankets piled in the corner. The blankets smelled faintly of nutmeg. 'Now say you're sorry.'

'Sorry? What for?'

'For not learning anatomy,' Manion croaked from the covers. 'That was my rib you jabbed with that blade. But not, thank the gods, my black heart.'