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Authors: Michelle Styles
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lip curled. ‘By the beard of Alexander, your trireme would not have lasted much longer upon the sea.’
‘Typical Roman seamanship, no doubt.’ Zenobia’s facewas crimson with poorly concealed rage. She moved away from Androceles. Her eyes shot daggers. ‘Androceles told me about the rescue when we dined together last evening. But he did not tell me that he had forced the sibyl’s hand.’
‘The sibyl has powers beyond ordinary mortals’ understanding. She no doubt has her reasons,’ Tullio said. ‘It is not for me to question the will of the gods.’
Tullio’s body was turned towards her aunt, but his gaze held a knowing gleam and seemed to pierce Helena’s soul. He knew. But did he know that Kybele did not speak to her? That this whole was her fault? A mistake that she had yet to recover from? Helena felt the ice sink into her veins. If only she could replace the sands of time, she’d never ever have gone to the quayside. She’d have found another way. But for now, all she could do was to hope and to listen.
‘Kybele has always taken the seafarers’ part,’ Captain Androceles drawled. He brushed a speck of dirt from his green cloak. ‘Time and time again, Kybele has shown a coldness toward Rome. It is only natural the sibyl should want to protect her investment.’
‘Gods can be notoriously fickle,’ Tullio replied.
‘As can Romans.’
A muscle in Tullio’s jaw jumped, but he said nothing.
Helena struggled to breathe. In a few more sentences, Androceles would be accusing the temple of colluding with Rome. Having been thwarted in stationing men here, he was attempting to use Zenobia to force the situation. The Roman was playing into his hands. She had to regain control of this interview. She had made another error. She possessed none of Aunt Flavia’s unerring instinct for the best way to bend circumstances to her will.
‘I have seen nothing to lead me to conclude that Kybelerequires a change of allegiance. The sibyl even forgave the shipload of mouldy grain.’ Helena stepped forward, making an expansive gesture with both her hands. ‘It was your wish that the Romans be housed here, not the sibyl’s. The sibyl relayed the conversation to me yesterday so that there would be no mistake on anyone’s part. She has felt the goddess’s call.’
She glanced at both Tullio and Androceles. Her answer should satisfy both of them. Tullio gave her a slight nod.
‘As you say, my lady,’ Captain Androceles murmured.
‘Your words make me ashamed of my thoughts, but I know much of Roman treachery. My sole concern was for Flavia.’ Zenobia drew her gown away from Androceles. Her lips curved upwards in a self-satisfied smile. ‘These Romans would sell their own mothers if they felt they could get a good price for them.’
Helena ignored Androceles’s laughter. She wanted to scream at Zenobia that she had glimpsed more humanity in the Romans than she had ever seen in the seafarers, but what good would it serve? She knew the temple did not have the resources to fight the combined force of the two major seafaring houses. However, for now she held the advantage. She had to make sure she used it and ended this interview on her terms.
‘Aunt Zenobia.’ Helena cleared her throat and waited a heartbeat for silence to fall. ‘Have you a boon that you wish the sibyl to consider? The temple does not run itself…’
‘Flavia should have you make the final ritual, Helena,’ Aunt Zenobia retorted and her voice could have been chipped from the snows of Mount Olympus itself. ‘You will make a fine sibyl some day. You have Flavia’s exact intonation down.’
‘I will take that as a compliment.’
‘Today appears to me to be as good as any for soothsaying,’ Androceles drawled. ‘I trust the sibyl will not delay in answering Zenobia’s question. Knucklebones simply do not give the answer required. We want to consult an expert.’
Soothsaying. That was it.
Not merely looking at entrails or
‘Typical Roman seamanship, no doubt.’ Zenobia’s facewas crimson with poorly concealed rage. She moved away from Androceles. Her eyes shot daggers. ‘Androceles told me about the rescue when we dined together last evening. But he did not tell me that he had forced the sibyl’s hand.’
‘The sibyl has powers beyond ordinary mortals’ understanding. She no doubt has her reasons,’ Tullio said. ‘It is not for me to question the will of the gods.’
Tullio’s body was turned towards her aunt, but his gaze held a knowing gleam and seemed to pierce Helena’s soul. He knew. But did he know that Kybele did not speak to her? That this whole was her fault? A mistake that she had yet to recover from? Helena felt the ice sink into her veins. If only she could replace the sands of time, she’d never ever have gone to the quayside. She’d have found another way. But for now, all she could do was to hope and to listen.
‘Kybele has always taken the seafarers’ part,’ Captain Androceles drawled. He brushed a speck of dirt from his green cloak. ‘Time and time again, Kybele has shown a coldness toward Rome. It is only natural the sibyl should want to protect her investment.’
‘Gods can be notoriously fickle,’ Tullio replied.
‘As can Romans.’
A muscle in Tullio’s jaw jumped, but he said nothing.
Helena struggled to breathe. In a few more sentences, Androceles would be accusing the temple of colluding with Rome. Having been thwarted in stationing men here, he was attempting to use Zenobia to force the situation. The Roman was playing into his hands. She had to regain control of this interview. She had made another error. She possessed none of Aunt Flavia’s unerring instinct for the best way to bend circumstances to her will.
‘I have seen nothing to lead me to conclude that Kybelerequires a change of allegiance. The sibyl even forgave the shipload of mouldy grain.’ Helena stepped forward, making an expansive gesture with both her hands. ‘It was your wish that the Romans be housed here, not the sibyl’s. The sibyl relayed the conversation to me yesterday so that there would be no mistake on anyone’s part. She has felt the goddess’s call.’
She glanced at both Tullio and Androceles. Her answer should satisfy both of them. Tullio gave her a slight nod.
‘As you say, my lady,’ Captain Androceles murmured.
‘Your words make me ashamed of my thoughts, but I know much of Roman treachery. My sole concern was for Flavia.’ Zenobia drew her gown away from Androceles. Her lips curved upwards in a self-satisfied smile. ‘These Romans would sell their own mothers if they felt they could get a good price for them.’
Helena ignored Androceles’s laughter. She wanted to scream at Zenobia that she had glimpsed more humanity in the Romans than she had ever seen in the seafarers, but what good would it serve? She knew the temple did not have the resources to fight the combined force of the two major seafaring houses. However, for now she held the advantage. She had to make sure she used it and ended this interview on her terms.
‘Aunt Zenobia.’ Helena cleared her throat and waited a heartbeat for silence to fall. ‘Have you a boon that you wish the sibyl to consider? The temple does not run itself…’
‘Flavia should have you make the final ritual, Helena,’ Aunt Zenobia retorted and her voice could have been chipped from the snows of Mount Olympus itself. ‘You will make a fine sibyl some day. You have Flavia’s exact intonation down.’
‘I will take that as a compliment.’
‘Today appears to me to be as good as any for soothsaying,’ Androceles drawled. ‘I trust the sibyl will not delay in answering Zenobia’s question. Knucklebones simply do not give the answer required. We want to consult an expert.’
Soothsaying. That was it.
Not merely looking at entrails or
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