were chewed down to the quick, the skin on the backs of her hands cracked and dry. There was a feverish cast to her features.
‘This is a portent of things to come.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Difficult to say. We all interpret signs differently. What do you see?’
‘I see a woman in need of a bath with a squashed insect on her fingers.’
Dino backed out of the mausoleum, reattaching his sword before heading toward the cemetery gates and the road beyond.
‘Portent,’ he grated from clenched teeth. ‘As if I need anything else to go wrong.’
8
Myrmica Rubra
– 15 Giugno 325
Sleep was fitful, the thunder had seen to that. A violent clamour over the very rooftops of Demesne close enough to rattle the glass in the windowpanes. Lightning etched the landscape in luminous white, fading to black seconds later. The cittadini would face the day bad-tempered and longing for rest, those in the castle much the same. Dino sat in Anea’s apartment counting the long hours until dawn, waiting to return to the warm forgetfulness of his own bed. No assassin had been so bold to attack during the day, and never in the morning.
Anea had retired early that night, leaving him with his own company. Books failed to interest him; exercise was a chore, his appetite a stranger. Achilles dozed on his shoulder, surrendered to the arms of sleep, leaving Dino jealous of the slumbering reptile. The candles in the room had burned down to stubs, leaving him with the darkness of his thoughts.
Tell your sister there have been changes enough to our way of life.
The capo ’s words echoed in his memory, whispers between the thunder.
What do you know of passion?
Again, the image of Massimo came back to him – at practice, sipping wine, smiling in the sunshine.
The hours dragged on until the long-case clock in the hall tolled out five mournful chimes. It would be light soon. Anea’s maid would arrive and begin the lengthy ceremony of running her bath, preparing the towels, arranging her clothes and brushing her hair. The Domina would present herself, briefing Anea for the day ahead. It was a meticulous existence, every minute accounted for.
Dino did not envy her in the slightest. He woke with a start as Anea’s bedroom door opened. His hand grasped the hilt of his sword on instinct.
Asleep on the job, are we? Amusement filled Anea’s eyes, tousled hair falling to her shoulders. She crossed the room and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, pressing her forehead to his. She’d adopted the gesture in lieu of kissing him on each cheek, as was common among families in Landfall.
‘What time is it?’
Anea shrugged and crossed the room to the table, now replaced. Dino watched her inspect the floor. The bloodstain was covered by a rug of startling cerulean.
‘I’ve been your bodyguard for three years now.’ Dino regarded the crosspiece of the sword. ‘More than three years.’
She looked at him, head cocked one side.
‘I dislike admitting it, but D’arzenta makes good a point. We need a new superiore. ’
I will think of something , Anea signed. She looked around the room, as if some clue to their predicament might be concealed on a shelf. I wish I could release you from these duties, but I can trust no one.
‘Being Orfano carries a high price.’
Exactly. Dreams of a republic more so.
‘Speaking of trust. We need to create a core of soldiers that don’t have old ties to House Fontein – new blood, people who understand loyalty and can’t be bought. Perhaps in time we can employ new bodyguards?’
I agree. I do not enjoy asking you to stand watch over me night after night.
‘I know. But what other choice is there?’
Is there no one else we can trust in the interim?
‘Virmyre is too long in the tooth.’
Massimo?
Dino swallowed at the mention of the man’s name. He cleared his throat. ‘He’d be honoured, I’m sure, but it may cause some friction with Lord Contadino. He’d be reluctant to leave Medea and
‘This is a portent of things to come.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Difficult to say. We all interpret signs differently. What do you see?’
‘I see a woman in need of a bath with a squashed insect on her fingers.’
Dino backed out of the mausoleum, reattaching his sword before heading toward the cemetery gates and the road beyond.
‘Portent,’ he grated from clenched teeth. ‘As if I need anything else to go wrong.’
8
Myrmica Rubra
– 15 Giugno 325
Sleep was fitful, the thunder had seen to that. A violent clamour over the very rooftops of Demesne close enough to rattle the glass in the windowpanes. Lightning etched the landscape in luminous white, fading to black seconds later. The cittadini would face the day bad-tempered and longing for rest, those in the castle much the same. Dino sat in Anea’s apartment counting the long hours until dawn, waiting to return to the warm forgetfulness of his own bed. No assassin had been so bold to attack during the day, and never in the morning.
Anea had retired early that night, leaving him with his own company. Books failed to interest him; exercise was a chore, his appetite a stranger. Achilles dozed on his shoulder, surrendered to the arms of sleep, leaving Dino jealous of the slumbering reptile. The candles in the room had burned down to stubs, leaving him with the darkness of his thoughts.
Tell your sister there have been changes enough to our way of life.
The capo ’s words echoed in his memory, whispers between the thunder.
What do you know of passion?
Again, the image of Massimo came back to him – at practice, sipping wine, smiling in the sunshine.
The hours dragged on until the long-case clock in the hall tolled out five mournful chimes. It would be light soon. Anea’s maid would arrive and begin the lengthy ceremony of running her bath, preparing the towels, arranging her clothes and brushing her hair. The Domina would present herself, briefing Anea for the day ahead. It was a meticulous existence, every minute accounted for.
Dino did not envy her in the slightest. He woke with a start as Anea’s bedroom door opened. His hand grasped the hilt of his sword on instinct.
Asleep on the job, are we? Amusement filled Anea’s eyes, tousled hair falling to her shoulders. She crossed the room and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, pressing her forehead to his. She’d adopted the gesture in lieu of kissing him on each cheek, as was common among families in Landfall.
‘What time is it?’
Anea shrugged and crossed the room to the table, now replaced. Dino watched her inspect the floor. The bloodstain was covered by a rug of startling cerulean.
‘I’ve been your bodyguard for three years now.’ Dino regarded the crosspiece of the sword. ‘More than three years.’
She looked at him, head cocked one side.
‘I dislike admitting it, but D’arzenta makes good a point. We need a new superiore. ’
I will think of something , Anea signed. She looked around the room, as if some clue to their predicament might be concealed on a shelf. I wish I could release you from these duties, but I can trust no one.
‘Being Orfano carries a high price.’
Exactly. Dreams of a republic more so.
‘Speaking of trust. We need to create a core of soldiers that don’t have old ties to House Fontein – new blood, people who understand loyalty and can’t be bought. Perhaps in time we can employ new bodyguards?’
I agree. I do not enjoy asking you to stand watch over me night after night.
‘I know. But what other choice is there?’
Is there no one else we can trust in the interim?
‘Virmyre is too long in the tooth.’
Massimo?
Dino swallowed at the mention of the man’s name. He cleared his throat. ‘He’d be honoured, I’m sure, but it may cause some friction with Lord Contadino. He’d be reluctant to leave Medea and
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