After the Fall(56)
She looked into Athaulf’s eyes and caught a flicker of shame, knowing full well he had set aside his hatred of treasure-lust for the moment, because his people were determined to send their king to the Afterlife with a host of riches. They believed as they believed, their ancestors’ pagan rites mingling with their Arian faith, a blending of Christian liturgy and ritualized keening, of solemn prayers to the Lord God and the heathen cutting of hair.
Facing the funeral bier, Placidia removed Livia’s crown and placed it near Alaric’s feet. As sunlight dappled and danced, she admired the crown’s jacinth gems a final time, her favorite jewels glittering violet-blue. Beguiling as the stars of the Seven Sisters, they were a near match in hue to Alaric’s regal funeral robes.
Placidia raised Gigi’s dagger and sawed at her hair, flinging the dark tresses toward the crown. Once done, she bowed to the corpse, then faced the queen. “My lady,” she called out to Verica, “I join you this day in mourning a great man and your beloved husband, King Alaric, a man whom I shall ever honor and whom I counted among my friends,” she exchanged a long look with Athaulf, “and now among my kinsmen. May God bless him and keep him, forever and ever. Amen.”
The crowd answered, “Amen,” as Verica rose and hugged Placidia.
But the weight Placidia had felt plagued her still, for she caught the baleful stare of her mother-in-law, Randegund. The old woman glowered, and Placidia reminded herself of Randegund’s abhorrence of all things Roman. This was not about her.
Or … was it?
Unable to turn away, Placidia stared back. To her astonishment, Randegund’s pale eyes grew suddenly, inexplicably darker, until they seemed to match the color of the gems in her crown.
Inwardly, Placidia quailed, but she forced herself to give away no hint of her fear. Deliberately keeping her gaze locked on Randegund, she straightened to her full height, raised her chin, and glared back.
She felt miserable in her decision, but at that moment, she vowed never again to wear anything the color of those hate-filled eyes.
Chapter 15
Even though it was only late afternoon, Gigi fell into bed, exhausted from grief and the funeral. She glanced at Magnus, who stood by the table and fingered the hilt of his sword.
She lifted the furs beside her. “Come to bed,” she said, yearning for his comfort.
He sighed. “No, Gigi. I must go.”
“Go? But you look so tired. Whatever it is can wait, can’t it?”
His face suddenly flushed and she frowned. Something was wrong.
“By the Styx,” his voice was hushed, so low it was almost inaudible, “I know this will strike you hard, and I would do anything to spare you pain.”
Fear mounting, she rose and went to his side. “Magnus, what’s the matter?”
“All of the slaves, the ones who labored at the river … they are to be put to death.”
Stunned, she asked, “Why?”
“Because no outsiders must know where King Alaric is buried.”
“But that’s … that’s … no!” she cried out. “Just because they’re outsiders? Then, then you and I — and Placidia, too — should also be killed. It doesn’t make any sense. What monster ordered this?”
“Athaulf,” Magnus said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Gigi grabbed Magnus’s arm, intent on pulling him along. “Come on. We’ve got to stop this. He’ll listen to us.”
“No.” He stood his ground. “You don’t understand. It is done.”
Her hand went limp and she let go. “What do you mean? They’re already dead?”
He shook his head. “If all went as planned, the dam has been dismantled and Alaric’s tomb is submerged. The killing will commence at sundown.”
“Then there’s still time. Athaulf can’t possibly — ”
“Gigi, the decision has been made.” He looked away. “It is done and we must accept it. There can be no talking him out of anything. It will be done.”
She wouldn’t give up — she couldn’t. “Magnus, stop saying that. Does Placidia know?”
“Absolutely not!” Magnus grasped her by the shoulders. “Athaulf has forbidden those who attend the killing to ever speak of it. You must never, never breathe a word of this to the princess.”
“Is he insane? Things like this get out, Magnus. They always do! How in the world does he expect to keep it from her?”