After the Fall(71)
The sword dropped from Magnus’s hand, clattering on the floor, and he grimaced, then groaned and leaned against her. She had to get him help quickly. Using what little strength she had left, she supported him and they stumbled from the building.
As they entered the day-lit garden, time seemed to flesh out, capturing and holding them in the present, her present. Gigi took one deep breath after another, reveling in the modern scents of café food and vehicle exhaust, hearing the wonderful cacophony of mopeds and horns honking and rock music blasting from a car stereo. Home, her mind soared. Home!
A group of women tourists surged forward, waving cameras and chattering in English. They stopped short when they saw Gigi and Magnus.
“Brilliant!” one exclaimed, her British accent thick. “Are we in time for a reenactment?”
The ladies began talking all at once and it took a long moment for Gigi to adjust to their spate of rapid-fire English.
Just as she was about to open her mouth, one of them stepped forward and spoke above the rest, “What in the world is she wearing beneath her shawl — burlap? If you ask me, neither of them looks very authentic, not like Horace. I want my picture taken with Horace.” She looked down her nose at Magnus. “Dear Lord, is he drunk?”
“No, he’s not drunk!” Gigi flared. “He’s been injured and needs help. Do any of you have a cell phone?”
Eyebrows shot up all around, but before the ladies could react further, Magnus lost his footing and tumbled down. Crying out, Gigi fell to her knees beside him, then noticed her hands were covered in fresh blood. Several of the women screamed, drawing passersby from every direction.
“Call 911!” Gigi yelled. Holding Magnus, she heard frantic conversations in Italian, French, Japanese, and then English again, with someone shouting above the others, “Call 311 — it’s 311 in Italy!”
A white-haired woman suddenly pushed through the crowd and knelt beside Gigi. “Signorina, I am a physician,” she said in accented English. “I have called the hospital and an ambulance is on the way.” She touched Magnus’s throat, feeling for a pulse, then lifted an eyelid to examine his pupil. Magnus blinked, which reassured Gigi he was still alive.
“Did he fall? Can he move his legs?” the doctor asked.
Gigi nodded. “He was cut and, and poisoned … given belladonna … and something to make him bleed.”
The woman gaped at her, then shook her head and started checking his bandages. Sirens blared, police vans and an ambulance arrived, and the crowd was moved back.
“Signorina, andatevene!” an emergency worker said, pushing Gigi aside as they wheeled in a gurney.
The physician spoke quietly to them, and Gigi heaved a sigh. He’s going to live, he’s okay, she kept telling herself as she watched them set up an IV in Magnus’s arm. He’s safe now, he’s going to make it.
She followed Magnus to the ambulance and got inside, forgetting to thank the doctor who had done so much for him. One of the English women ran up and shoved the flute and sword at her. “Are these yours? I found them — ”
Sirens started again, and Gigi mouthed “thank you” and took their things, just as the medics closed the doors.
She reached for Magnus’s hand. It felt warmer, and she heard him draw breath, a deep sigh. Suddenly, her tensions eased and she rested her head on his chest, exhausted, relieved. They were finally beyond Honorius’s reach, somewhere he could never threaten them again. Gigi smiled, the bastard was dead, long dead, and they were here, alive.
She listened to Magnus’s beating heart and realized all she had been through had a purpose, now that she’d brought him to her world, to safety — and freedom.
“I love you, Magnus. You’re going to live. You’ll be fine,” she whispered to him, not expecting a response.
He squeezed her hand.
Chapter 19
Winter, A.D. 411, Hadrian’s Villa
At Hadrian’s Villa, in the craggy hills east of Rome, Placidia stood wrapped in a heavy cloak. At long last, she felt a measure of contentment. “It eases my heart to see our people well housed and well fed, if only for a brief while.”
Elpidia shivered. “I would like it even better if you would take yourself inside, for some warmth and a bit of food.”
Placidia smiled. “I told Athaulf I would meet him here. We enjoy watching the sun set over the reflecting pool. Go on and get your meal. There are guards everywhere. I’ll be all right — there, you see, he’s already here!”