Gladiatrix (43 page)

Sword in hand, I looked up and around.

The crowd was still on their feet, but completely silent, unsure of how to react. Livia sat rigid with tension, obviously uncertain of her part in this upset. Augustus was outraged, mouth open.

The Praetorians moved in closer. I threw the sword to the floor. Augustus would never allow me to live unless I could turn the meaning of this defeat around.

I moved to the centre of the altar, and stripped off my black wig and kilt.

A wave of whispers moved across the stands. Suddenly I was blonde — the colour of Apollo.

Naked and dripping blood, I bowed to Augustus. ‘Apollo has slain the impostor. Long live Augustus!'

Apollo was a sexually ambiguous god, so it could work. If not, that was it. There was no other comeback.

Then a bold spectator yelled into the silence, ‘Let her live.'

Augustus looked around, obviously trying to gauge the feeling of the crowd.

A particularly drunken part of the crowd started chanting, ‘Let her live.'

The rest took it up, and the shout, ‘Live! Live! Live!' resounded across the arena.

Augustus rose to his feet. ‘She shall live.'

Livia was waiting for me on the lap of winged Isis, seated on her stolen pharaoh's throne. She was plucking at the folds of her robe with anxious attention. Now she believed she'd tested the wrong woman. Was Isis angry?

I limped towards the dais, wearing only the black Egyptian kilt, and covered in dried blood and purpling bruises. The arrow wound to my left thigh was still seeping, and I was carefully nursing the black and broken fingers of my swollen right hand against my bare breasts.

Livia motioned to a waiting guard, and he stepped forward with a man's grey tunic. I took it, but my shoulders were so stiff and sore I couldn't get it over my head one-handed. At Livia's bidding the guard helped me slip it on, carefully avoiding any contact with my right hand.

‘Gladiatrix.' This time she addressed me with the faintest tinge of respect. ‘You have proven yourself, and your requests have been carried out in full. You and your slave are free. But first, I want …'

I cut in. ‘Where's Alexander?'

She wanted to know how, why, and God knows what else, about my link with Isis, but I had no energy left for dissembling. Better to get out of here while I was winning.

She blinked once at the abrupt interruption, but kept to the point. ‘Your slave is waiting in your apartment.'

How did she know about that place? I shot her a look.

‘Yes, I know a lot about you,' she said, with spiteful resentment. ‘Now.' As though it was my fault she'd underestimated me. As though I should've come with a warning label.

‘Why is he there, not here?' I demanded. Livia seemed to be cooperating for the moment, but I didn't trust her to stay that way. Not for too long.

‘Don't question me!' she raged, then remembered herself. She said, placatingly, ‘Your slave is safe and waiting for you with my other gifts. But the man you wanted, the one who stole the dagger, is here. He's in the next room.'

‘Fabius is here?' Finally!

She leant forward, anxious to get to her own personal punchline. ‘So, gladiatrix, I have done as you desired. Do you acknowledge you are paid in full?' She waited, tense with avarice.

‘As long as Alexander is safe and sound. Then you have my solemn word, Livia. The future will be as I showed you.' That was the truth.

Livia gloated, lost in her fantasies of power and revenge. Rome, look out! Then she refocused on me. She had what she wanted from me now, so my usefulness was gone.

After all, I was just a vehicle of a higher power. She gave me a long look, sharpened with hatred. I knew too much, and worst of all, I'd made her cower. She
couldn't forgive that, but was afraid to dispose of me. Isis might not like it.

Livia settled for saying dismissively, ‘This man, Fabius. Will you deal with him now?'

‘Yes.' I wasn't waiting a second longer. Exhaustion and the throbbing pain from my swollen fingers were making it hard for me to stay upright. I had to keep moving.

Livia motioned to the guard poised at my side, and he led me through the rear archway and back into the black and red sacrificial chamber I'd been marched through this morning.

Fabius was lying spread-eagled on a wooden altar, in front of the ebony statue of Isis. His hands and feet were chained to each corner, and he was staring up at the statue's bloodstained mouth. I told the guard to leave us alone.

‘Well, look at this.' I loomed over Fabius. ‘All laid out like dinner.' The bruising across his broken nose and cheekbones was now a dull, yellowish grey.

‘What are you doing here?' He was petrified.

So much for the ruthless murderer who'd slit Argos and Caractacus from ear to ear, kidnapped Victoria, and tried to feed me to a crocodile.

‘You mean, why aren't I dead yet?'

‘What's going on? Where's Livia?' His eyes darted past me to the archway.

‘What? You think you can do a deal with her? Don't bet on it, Fabius. And it doesn't matter anyway, you're mine now. I get to choose your fate.'

A fox-like expression lit his face. He was searching for another angle, another way to save himself. ‘What do you want from me?'

‘Information. Where's Victoria?'

Fabius scanned my neck as though searching for something, then said in English, ‘I'll tell you
everything if you help me get my right hand free. Just my hands, that's all I need.'

Dizziness washed over me. I knew he was speaking English, but I just couldn't take in why or how. ‘What …?'

‘You heard me.' He actually spoke with a twangy American accent, possibly Texan.

Instinctively I checked his neck for a necklace like mine, but there was nothing there. I checked his hands. Yes, there it was, on his index finger. A man's ring, much broader than normal, with a flat face and a clearly defined infinity symbol engraved on it.

‘Yes.' He read my shocked expression with satisfaction. ‘If you help me get free, so I can use my transponder, then I'll tell you anything you want.'

I shook my head once in confusion and denial. Then halted from the pain.

He was smug. ‘You had no idea, did you?' The words ‘stupid bitch' remained unspoken.

Then he got down to business, ‘Who sent you here? Was it Washington? How did you get through the portal?'

‘Shut up.' Anger took over, set me back on target. I bent in. ‘If you want to live, I want the answers to my questions! Is Victoria still alive?'

Fabius returned to grovelling. ‘Yes. Yes, she is.' He wasn't so tough chained to a sacrificial altar. ‘She's fine.'

I was willing to believe him. I drew in a deep breath and let it out. And straightened. Slowly. Leaning forward was making me see spots.

‘What's going on? Why are you here?' I demanded.

‘Mertling made me come,' he whined. ‘I had no choice, he blackmailed me into this mission.'

‘Mertling?' It came out as a gasp. ‘Who the hell are you?'

‘Armstrong.' He watched my face, waiting for recognition.

Constan had said there were four marshals: Victoria, Rous, Scolette, and Armstrong. He'd said Karl Armstrong was away on a mission.

‘You're a marshal?' I didn't even know where to begin. ‘Why? Why did you do all this?'

‘I told you! Mertling was blackmailing me.' He was impatient, couldn't understand why I was so slow on the uptake. He just wanted to get out of here. ‘I had a drug problem, a big one. He knew about it through his connections. I had no choice. I had to do what he said. Cops just don't survive in gaol.'

‘But …' What the hell did Mertling have to do with anything? I was reeling. ‘What did he want you to do?'

‘To kidnap Dupree before she could return for the meeting with the Governor. So, with the help of the gang that caught you, I grabbed her and took her back to quarters I'd leased near the Iseum.'

Near the Iseum? We'd probably walked past it. ‘Victoria broke your nose, didn't she.' It was a statement, not a question.

His face hardened. ‘Yes.'

‘But why on earth did Mertling want you to kidnap Victoria?'

‘I don't know, it all happened in a rush. A few days ago he called me into his office. Told me he had to get rid of Dupree real fast. I don't know why exactly, he didn't say, and I didn't ask.'

Armstrong was leaving too much out, trying to make himself an innocent victim.

‘And you're used to following orders like that? Go and kidnap whoever …'

As soon as I started to say it, I remembered the figures StopWatch had quoted. Over the past decade, so many
marshals had gone missing in action … Just how long had Mertling been in charge of the portal?

‘What've you and your boss been up to?'

He scanned my furious face, dried blood, bruises and all. I was deadly serious and he wasn't in a position to bargain.

He said, reluctantly, ‘Mertling's been using the portal like his own private supermarket for years. Bringing back whatever he could safely sell on the black market. Real antiquities, diamonds, information … anything.' He scowled again. ‘Dupree must've found out.'

He snorted, ‘You don't cross Mertling and get away with it.'

A smuggling operation using the portal? I took that in. The whole of the past to raid, like your own inexhaustible larder of goodies.

‘What were you supposed to do with Victoria once you had her?'

Armstrong clammed up, afraid of my reaction.

‘If you don't tell me everything, Armstrong, and I mean everything … If I even think you might be lying, then I promise you, you won't live past this conversation.' He could see I was telling the truth.

Frightened, he blurted out, ‘It wasn't my fault. Let me just use my transponder and I'll help you get Mertling. Anything you want.'

I growled down into his sweating face, ‘What were you supposed to do with Victoria, Armstrong?'

He said, in a rush, ‘Mertling wanted Victoria sent back through the portal. Dying. With the Isis dagger in her throat.'

Mertling! I fought down the choking rage, there was no time to waste. ‘So Mertling was going to frame the Hierophant for her murder.'

‘Yes. He said it'd keep the investigation of her death
to a minimum. All nice and tidy for NTA-Washington. Mertling thought he was so smart. That he had it all worked out,' complained Armstrong, bitterly. ‘But you must've come through the portal before he could disable it.'

That was a shock. ‘Mertling wrecked the portal, too?'

So the terrorists were actually his men? The concussion was making it hard to process what Armstrong was saying. It was unbelievable. Or rather, I didn't want to believe it. It made everything too complicated, too hard to deal with. ‘But why?' So many pieces of the puzzle, all swirling around together.

‘To forestall any proper rescue mission. Not everyone at Union Square is under Mertling's thumb. And it gave me time to get hold of the dagger for the frame-up.'

‘Is that why your men went after me? You were still looking for the dagger?'

He was eager to give me details now, hoping it'd buy his freedom. ‘We knew Victoria had given the dagger to Valerius Musa originally, but couldn't get near him. He was always too cautious, too heavily guarded. When Lucius told me about you, and I realised you'd replaced Victoria on the mission, I knew you might've taken the dagger back.'

‘You think I'm a marshal?'

He was surprised enough to show irritation, ‘Of course you are! Why else would you be here!'

Of course, that made sense. I'd arrived after he'd left San Francisco, so he couldn't know I'd stumbled into his boss's frame-up by mistake.

‘Then why did your men try to kidnap me once they realised I didn't have the dagger?'

He looked sulky, caught out. ‘I didn't need another righteous marshal on the loose. You'd come through
before the portal was disabled, so I assumed you were an investigator from headquarters. From Washington. So I had to clean up the mess and stop any future investigations. I was going to send you through the portal with Dupree.'

‘With my throat cut.' That much was clear.

Armstrong didn't reply, just watched my face.

So the men who'd forced me through the portal were all part of Mertling's grand plan for framing the Isiacs. Blame them for disabling the portal. Blame the Hierophant for killing Victoria. And all of this to cover up Mertling's smuggling operation.

‘Where's Victoria?'

Armstrong looked unsure of how to play me. Which was a worry, considering what he'd told me so far. ‘Spit it out!'

He said, abruptly, ‘She's gone. Gone back to Union Square.'

‘What!'

‘Mertling was scheduled to put the portal back in operation this afternoon. So I could send Dupree through to him. But I couldn't. Not without the dagger. And you had it,' he whined. ‘Then Livia's bloody Praetorians arrived and arrested me. They unchained Dupree, and as soon as she got a hand free she transponded back.'

And straight into the arms of Mertling.

She was going back into a trap! She'd have recognised Armstrong, but did she know the rest?

‘Okay. So Victoria knows about the smuggling operation, but does she know Mertling sent you here? Does she know about the whole set-up?'

‘She knows all right,' Armstrong scoffed. ‘Judging from what she was saying before the Praetorians arrived, she'll probably try and take his head off. Said
she had an old score to settle with him, as well as the new stuff. Something that went back to the time before he'd even joined the NTA.'

The pieces of the puzzle were swirling even faster. ‘What are you talking about? What's this old score?' My head was throbbing with the strain of trying to follow his crazy tale.

He said carefully, ‘Well, we had a little talk about Mertling, Dupree and I.'

I was betting that meant he'd taunted her, while she was chained up. ‘Go on.'

‘Before I left Union Square, Mertling said he was glad he was finally going to finish what he'd started with the Dupree family twenty years ago. That they'd been a thorn in his side for far too long.'

Armstrong pressed himself back into the wooden altar and away from my expression, saying, ‘I don't know what he was talking about, but it had a real effect on Dupree. That's when she said she was gonna kill him.'

I fought to stay upright. Mertling was part of the original kidnapping? But how on earth did he link into Strega and The Network?

‘Did Mertling ever mention a man called Strega?' I snapped.

Armstrong shook his head, frightened.

Strega … The Network … Cruz. But Mertling? What was the connection? What could it be? What connection had Victoria made to take Armstrong's taunts so seriously?

An old score that went back to before Mertling worked for the NTA?

What had Constan said about Mertling's background? All the marshals came from different branches of law enforcement. Victoria came from
police homicide. Rous was FBI. Scolette was FBI too. Armstrong and Mertling were both US federal marshals from …