Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (52 page)

“The stuff of creation,” Crassus whispered. I reached up along the length of the javelin and pulled him into me, pressing the weapon through my heart, drawing him close so I could kiss him again. Hovering on the edge of life and death like that, I'd never experienced such pleasure—like an orgasm that never ended.

“Now, come to bed,” he said, drawing out the javelin tenderly. I couldn't fight him anymore. If the other Blood Hawks were all this powerful, this unkillable, I didn't know how I was going to complete my mission. I fell into his arms, blood pumping from my body, and embraced him while I waited for the ambrosia to go to work. I needed Crassus. Now more than ever and in more ways than I cared to admit.

*   *   *

I
WOKE IN THE
middle of the night to find him stroking my hair, winding strands of it about his fingers and then pulling his hand away to see the curls cling to his fingers. Why had I held him at bay for so long? Crassus would do his best to feed me now as he did on the ship when I made an effort to please him. Barbata was right—he was magnificent, driven, anxious, even.

“You hair isn't straight,” he said. “It has waves in it, minor imperfections. I didn't see that before. They're beautifully imperfect. And now you have this white streak back. I must admit, I always found it attractive.”

“I thought I was one of your gods now,” I said. “Immortals don't have imperfections.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as an insult. It makes you more beautiful. Like the color of your eyes. Just a few abnormalities highlight the greater unity of your features and form.”

“That's what Publia the ornatrix said.” I stared up at the ceiling, trying to find the right way to say it, but in the end decided to be direct. “I'm sorry about trying to kill you before.”

“You struck prematurely. I understand. You were addled by the desire for ambrosia and the sudden news about your brother, but I hope you're thinking clearly now.”

One of us was. Could my uncle have been right when he said that Crassus had been struck by Cupid's arrows? It didn't seem possible that he could love me enough to discard all semblance of common sense, but all that talk of weddings and engagement presents—gods, what rot.

“More than ever,” I said. “I need you, I see that now. What we need to talk about next is how we're going to kill Licinus.”

“Yes. Think of that. His body at your feet, his head held aloft in your hand, the look of surprise on his face. You want it, I know you do.”

“I do.”

“I will give you all that you seek: your enemy dead at your feet, your brother free from harm. We will take this tournament by storm and the empire after it. Don't you see? The audience will fall in love with us.”

“But how?” I whispered. “Licinus takes more ambrosia than any of us.”

“Ah, now there's the rub,” he said. “He seeks early ascension to godhood. He tries to walk the proconsul's path, but he's not ready. He's not worthy.”

It was no surprise to me to hear that Aquilinus was the big imbiber. It was obvious from the way he shone when I first saw him on the podium.

“But how do we kill Licinus if he is taking large doses of the stuff? Gods, we had a fraction of that and couldn't kill each other last night.”

If he could tell me how to kill Licinus, then I'd have the key to killing the lot of them.

Crassus' eyes studied me, searching for any sign of mistrust or betrayal. I pressed my breasts against his chest and he stretched up to kiss me. His hatred for Licinus was palpable and far outweighed any lingering doubts he had of me.

“Then let us sculpt our revenge,” Crassus said with a grin. “What I tell you next, I tell you as a dowry, a promise of our future together,” he said, brushing my cheek. “When all this is over, when I stand upon the victor's podium with you beside me, with the entire galaxy chanting our names, then we shall be bound together as man and wife.”

I smiled at him, grateful for Publia's work on my face. It was still stretched back, making it more difficult to register some of the more subtle signs of shock and displeasure.

“I can't wait, darling,” I said, imagining the very instant Orbis would steal his life.

“As I said, we're not yet gods; we're gods in the making, germinating seeds, if you like. If we stop consuming the ambrosia, well, you've seen what happens, terrible withdrawal symptoms. It's then that we're vulnerable, within hours of the effect wearing off. We're all on rations during the tournament. Mania gives us one dose first thing in the morning and another each night.”

“But what you gave me last night. You have more?”

“That was my only backup,” he said, stroking my face, “but I'd have paid five times as much if it meant winning you.”

“I should have held out for more,” I joked, and he laughed.

“Now, the key is that by sundown we start to feel the lack of ambrosia,” Crassus continued. “You've seen the yellow skin, right? And the following morning we're desperate for our next dose. It's these periods when the ambrosia is at our lowest level and our craving at the highest that we're most vulnerable. We will choose one of these periods in the next stage. When we're underground and the media spherae find it harder to keep track of us all, we must escape the watchful eyes of the audience and emperor. I want no one to know that I have killed him.”

“You don't want complications with Proconsul Aquilinus,” I stated.

He looked pained. “Let's not think about such things. Let's focus on Licinus. The strategy I suggest can be summed up in three words: ‘isolate,' ‘decapitate,' ‘incinerate.' Or an alternative for the last word might be ‘incarcerate.' Separate Licinus from the team and then take his head from his shoulders with your discus. This will not kill him, but it will incapacitate him long enough that we can burn his body or bury his head in enough rubble that it can't be reunited with his body. When the ambrosia effect wears off, without a backup dose, he will die.”

“Agreed. And what about the rest of the Blood Hawks?”

“I'll need you to help create a distraction when the moment is right. Something that will send Licinus in my direction, away from the others. Then come back around and launch a surprise attack from the rear while I tackle him head on. We can take him together.”

“Yes. With Licinus dead, there's nothing to stop us,” I said.

I kissed him on the mouth and felt his acquiescence. I'd help him right up to the point the Blood Hawks were dead and my brother safe. Then I'd help Gaius Sertorius Crassus to an early grave.

“The code word shall be ‘Rubicon,'” he said. “When I say it to you, be ready to act.”

Like Julius Caesar crossing the Rubicon, there was no going back.

“Yes. Rubicon.”

We made love again, and I stared at him adoringly, smiling with approval. A smile was the best weapon I had right now. It bought me the time I needed to think while my mind was still clear, until the craving for the ambrosia returned, and I needed to do a lot of thinking. It turned out Julia was right—bedding Crassus was an informative activity.

 

ACT IV

BESTIARIUS

Each as he hath begun shall work out his destiny. Jupiter is one and king over all; the fates will find their way.

By his brother's infernal streams, by the banks of the pitchy black-boiling chasm he signed assent, and made all Olympus quiver at his nod.

Here speaking ended: thereon Jupiter rises from his golden throne, and the heavenly people surround and escort him to the doorway.

—Virgil,
Aeneid

XXVII

I
SOUGHT OUT
J
ULIA
in the early morning before the others arose. The red tents of the Blood Hawks looked like bloodstains on the morning snow. Overnight there had been only minor snowfall and the cutting wind seemed to have vanished. It was as still and perfect a day as one could get on this frozen hell—as if this entire world was holding its breath to see what would happen next. The frozen wastes looked majestic, like waves on a great sea interspersed with serrated peaks. My heart was racing with dark excitement. No fear. It was perfect. This was how it was always meant to be. Fortuna's hand was urging me onward. The Furies filled me with a fire that obliterated all hesitation. Things were coming into alignment.

The redhead was at the edge of the immunes' camp on her own, cursing as she tried to get her gloved fingers to hold on to a wrench that she'd buried deep inside one of the desultore skirmisher engines.

“Have a good night with Crassus?” she asked as I approached.

“I think you'd be the last person to criticize me,” I said. She turned on the noisy generator she was using to charge the skirmisher's engine. “Besides, it doesn't matter—he'll be dead soon enough.”

Looking at Julia, I became aware that with my body's transformation had come a shift in mental perspective. Knowing I couldn't be killed, that I was filled with a life force that buffered me from the effects of mortal decay, it changed things. When I left Crassus in our bed, he looked like a tower of strength and vitality, energy bursting from his body. Julia, young as she was, was dying. I could smell death on her. The strands of her red hair looked like thousands of tiny, brittle bones. I sensed her fragility and how easily her life might be stolen away.

“I'm worried about you, Accala.” She reached out and touched my breastplate. “It's cold, you don't have your armor's internal heating turned on. Can't you feel the cold?”

“What's to feel? There's no wind this morning.”

“It's still minus twenty. The sun's not up yet, and you're walking around without a heat source.”

“I'm fine. I've never felt better,” I said.

“I noticed. Crassus must have given you ambrosia last night. You looked terrible yesterday, and this morning you're shining like you've just come back from a holiday spa.”

“What does that matter? All that matters is the mission. Have you contacted my uncle yet?”

“Yes,” Julia said cautiously. “I've done as you asked and contacted your uncle. He's forbidden you to act. He says you must do things in the correct order to minimize risk. If you act too soon and it doesn't work out, the Sertorians will execute Aulus.”

“They won't,” I said.

“And you know this how? Did Crassus tell you that? You can't trust him.”

“And I can trust you? Off to bed Crassus to celebrate the second you think I'm dead.”

“That's not how it is and you know it. I'm your friend.”

“You serve yourself and your collegia masters, you're no friend of mine.”

“No?”

She looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching us and then moved to stand between me and the camp, shielding me from view.

“Quickly, give me your arm.”

I did as she asked and she ran her armilla over my bracelet.

“What was that?”

“Another useful thing I picked up sleeping with Crassus. The code to your bracelet. It will register a mild tingle whenever they go to shock you instead of the real thing. How far did you think you were going to get with this thing still on?”

“I … I thank you.”

“Really, remember who your friends are,” she said. “And if you want to thank me, then fill me in on what you've learned.”

I gave her a quick summary of my experiences in the hive and what I'd learned from Crassus.

“Gods, that's a lot to take in,” she said.

“So you see,” I said. “There is no risk to Aulus, at least not from the Sertorians. They don't have him anymore. You were right, their bases have been overrun by Hyperboreans.”

“Did Crassus tell you that?”

“He did.”

“And if he's lying?”

“He's not. I can tell.”

“Because your skills in the bedroom are so mind-blowingly spectacular?” She paused. “I'm sorry, let me take that back. I shouldn't have insulted you, it's just that you're risking everything on unreliable information. What if Licinus leaked that information to Crassus, knowing he'd tell you? You can't trust the Sertorians, especially Crassus. They're expert liars. The goal has always been to keep you alive long enough for you to find your brother. If you can locate him, then surely playing along with the Sertorians while lowering your ambrosia intake is the key.”

“I can't do that.”

“Why not?”

“I've made a deal with Crassus. He'll lead me to my brother the moment Licinus is dead.”

“I see now,” Julia said. “You could have gone in search of Aulus back in the cavern, but you chose to return. You came back here to have your revenge on the Hawks. You put that ahead of finding Aulus.”

“Don't you dare say that,” I warned.

“Why not? It's the truth.”

“How dare you talk to me this way? I who risk all. You sit on the sidelines and dare to lecture me?”

“Can you even hear yourself?” she asked. “You sound like a villain in an amateur theater production. The ambrosia has affected you more than you realize. We're a team and I have orders to support you, but I also have your uncle's permission to supersede you if, in my consideration, you might jeopardize the mission.”

“Supersede me? Is that a threat?” I said quietly, my voice filled with danger. I was seething. How dare she? I was sick and tired of bowing and scraping. I wouldn't yield to the Sertorians, and I certainly wasn't going to bow down to a trumped-up grease monkey. She didn't care about me or the Viridians. This was all about the collegia and their agenda.

“It's no threat. You've raised the stakes and danger level, your uncle has to take measures to make sure that the mission isn't ruined if you go batshit crazy on us. Now tell me you're going to be able to keep it all together and I'll tell you the rest of your uncle's orders.”