The Dark Lord

A harsh, deep shout drew her attention to the sand. Thyatis, stripped down to breast-band and loincloth, was attacking, lean arms and legs flashing. The giant African, Mithridates, his wounded arm free of its bandages at last, was on the defense. The redheaded woman spun hard on her heel, leg lashing out. The African blocked, huge palm slapping aside the heel arrowing for his head. Thyatis bounced back, falling into a half-crouch. Mithridates advanced, bare feet sliding in the firm sand. He lunged, punching, massive fist blurring in the air. Thyatis weaved aside, flashed a kick at his stomach. He turned, catching the blow on rippling abdominals. A deep thwap sound hung in the air. The African snatched for the extended leg. Thyatis sprang up in the air, another ringing shout belling out, her heel snapping around at his head.

Mithridates threw himself back, rolling across the sand. Thyatis dropped lightly to the ground, landing on both feet and one hand. Her skin gleamed with sweat, but her breath was even and unhurried.

'Well done,' Anastasia called out, clapping politely. Both of the fighters turned towards her, Thyatis brushing mid-length red-gold hair from her face. 'Come and sit, I have business to discuss.'

'Business?' Helena swallowed the last of the grapes and dabbed the side of her mouth with a cloth. 'Should I go? Ooh... is it a secret?'

The Duchess made a point of ignoring the Empress, smiling at Thyatis as the younger woman sat down on the step between the colonnade and the sand. 'You feel strong?'

'Yes,' Thyatis said, running lean fingers over fresh scars along her stomach and side. 'The arrow wound has knit clean.'

'And you?' Anastasia lifted her chin to Mithridates. The African towered over all three women, but he seemed uneasy, standing a good distance away. 'How is your leg?'

'Good,' Mithridates rumbled, ducking his head. 'That Gaul knew his business.' He flexed his knee, muscles rippling under glossy mahogany skin. 'Straight and true.'

Anastasia nodded, pleased. She felt a brief glimmer of hope. 'Something has come up, daughter. I need you, and Mithridates here—if you will help—to go to Egypt. You'll leave within the week, I think.'

'Egypt?' Thyatis raised a pale gold eyebrow. She stood, shaking out her limbs. Nervous energy radiated from the young woman and she shifted her balance from foot to foot. The Duchess watched her expression change from interest to impatience to haunted memory in the space of two heartbeats. 'The Caesar Aurelian is in trouble? Persian spies?' Thyatis tried to grin. She couldn't manage, settling for a grimace instead. 'Someone needing to be made less... troublesome?'

'Sit down,' Anastasia said softly. 'You're making me dizzy. Mithridates, come over here where you can hear. I don't want to shout. Betia...'

The little blonde sprang up and darted off through the columns.

'...make sure we're not disturbed!' the Duchess called after her. 'Very well. Here is the matter in a nutshell—there is a device in the Imperial Library—a telecast. Mithridates, you've not seen the damnable thing, but it allows a thaumaturge to view things far away. It has other powers as well, but the point is this: another such device, perhaps even two of them, may lie hidden in Egypt. The Emperor directs me to recover these objects. To this end, I am sending you, Thyatis, to find the missing telecasts, and make sure they do not come into Imperial hands!'

Thyatis squinted at the Duchess. Helena screwed up her nose and put down an eggshell-thin wine cup. Mithridates showed no reaction, but then he was habitually impassive.

'Pardon?' Thyatis smoothed her short hair back in a nervous gesture. She shot a glance sideways at Helena, who was watching Anastasia with a sour expression. 'The Emperor is sending us, but we're to make sure he does not get the... devices.'

'I'm more concerned,' the Duchess said, 'in ensuring Prince Maxian and more to the point, a certain Gaius Julius, do not get their hands on these devices. I am not going to say anything more about the issue, save I wish to avoid true danger. The Empire does not need to have any telecasts. One is trouble enough.'

'Oh.' Thyatis raised an eyebrow. The young woman's attention was still focused on the Empress, who said nothing. 'Are we the only hounds on the scent?'

'For the moment.' The Duchess felt weary again, leaning back in the chair. 'With the god's luck, the Emperor will let me handle this myself. However, the prince Maxian is very interested in recovering the objects. He is making an amulet that will lead you to a telecast if you get close enough. I hope he will just hand the amulet over... but he may not. You may have company on your trip.'

'Who can I take?' Thyatis cracked her knuckles, canting her head at Mithridates. 'We're shorthanded—I'll need more help than this colossus.'

'True.' Anastasia pressed her hands to her eyes. 'We've lost so many men—'

'I want to go,' Betia said in a small voice, barely audible. She was kneeling beside the Duchess' chair again, having quietly returned from her circuit of the gymnasium.

'—lately.' The Duchess pouted, thinking. 'Perhaps those Gauls have not left Italy yet; they might help. I have a feeling old Vitellix can handle himself in a pinch. Or... we can recruit among the Eastern expatriates—some able men are likely to be found there. We can't trust anyone in Egypt, even the—'

'Mistress!' Betia managed to raise her voice, though Thyatis and Mithridates were watching her with amused expressions. The Duchess frowned at her maid.

'What is it, child?' Anastasia looked rather sour at being interrupted.

'I wish to go,' Betia said, trying to look determined. 'I can help.'

'Hmm.' The Duchess looked her up and down, seeing the girl's muscles were firm and lean, her wrists no longer spindly. The little German looked like she could run all day... and she is discreet. Quiet. Unremarkable... Anastasia considered the matter, tapping long-nailed fingers on the curve of the chair. She's no older than Krista was, when I sent her after the prince. The memory brought a pang of loss to the Duchess, but she pushed the emotion aside. The world is loss, she thought. Children age, go away, die. I cannot keep her safe and I need her eyes, hands, nimble fingers. 'Who would do my hair, paint my face?' she asked plaintively.

Betia bowed in place, forehead brushing against the slick, enameled tesserae on the floor. 'You've other maids, mistress. Maximia and Constantia can brush your hair, set out your clothes, clean, fetch and carry as well as I.'

'Perhaps,' the Duchess thought aloud. But they are not of the Order. You are my last ephebe. 'I will consider this.' Anastasia beckoned to Thyatis, who rose, pearls of sweat shining on her face and arms. 'Daughter, prepare for a swift departure. You will need help. If there are willing, discreet, trustworthy men you know, bring them to me.'

'Trustworthy men? In Rome?' Thyatis managed a bitter chuckle. 'I will do what I can.'

'Good.' Anastasia nodded, dismissing the young woman. Thyatis bowed, then jerked her head at Mithridates. Both fighters padded off through the columned hall, scooping up towels, their sandals and tunics from beside the fighting floor.

'Well,' Helena said, breaking the silence. She sounded particularly wry. 'You must think me blind and dumb, to ignore treason and intrigue against the Emperor's expressed wish. My guardsmen sit at your door. They would be pleased, I think, to arrest all within this house.' The Empress brushed a long, straight tendril of hair from her face. She seemed amused, but there was a steely light in her eyes. 'My husband does need more coin, to fuel this war... your estates are varied and rich.'

Anastasia nodded. 'This is true. Come, let's go to the garden.'

'The garden?' Helena remained sitting while the Duchess rose. 'Why there?'

'I am tired of sitting indoors,' Anastasia said. She waited, Betia in her shadow, until the Empress rose as well. Helena made a face, but scooped up the basket of grapes and tucked the wine amphora under her arm. The Duchess glided out, Betia running ahead to open the doors.

—|—

The garden was filled with pale, diffuse light. Thin drapes hid the sky, breaking up the harsh summer sun. Anastasia sat delicately on a pink marble bench, screened from the main garden by a trellis covered with flowering vines. Subtle perfume hung in the air and the sound of water chuckling over stones added an air of peace and contemplation. Helena also sat, placing the bowl between them. Betia had disappeared, though the sounds of children laughing hung in the air. Anastasia parted green leaves, looking into the grassy bowl at the center of her