Chapter Eleven: Progress

My first thought upon seeing Rome again was pretty much "oh shit." Marcus had at least done me the courtesy of letting me ride my horse, but that didn't change the fact that the last place in the world I wanted to be a slave at the moment was in Rome. Anywhere outside the city would have been preferable. I would have taken Constantinopolis. I would have taken fucking Thrace, but Marcus lived inside the pestilential city walls, so Rome it was.

His home was well managed, so there wasn't really a use for another slave. But his "wife" who was really his estate keeper decided she could find a use for me. At first I thought Marcus was going to argue with her; I was convinced he would want to keep me close so he could torment me, but he agreed, and off I went to the head of the household slaves.

To my surprise, Marcus left me alone or ignored me for years. I found my life was dull and tedious, but it was mind numbing, and a numb mind was preferable to a pained one, and to be honest was probably exactly what I needed. Only once on the anniversary of Allis' death did Marcus find me and beat me. His wife was at a complete loss and felt sorry for me, but her pity and kindness just made me feel guilty again. I was rude to her and she left me alone, but the irony of whence I derived pain wasn't lost on me. A return to the hard work of everyday life was most welcome.

I was just starting to recover some balance when my entire situation changed, almost over night. Marcus' wife called on me to wait on the master and his guest, which had never happened the entire time I had been with the household. Sure enough, his guest was another immortal, a Greek named Tiresias. Marcus was young compared to Tiresias and me, and may have been under the impression that Tiresias wouldn't be able to tell the difference in a new immortal and an ancient. I assumed Marcus was showing me off to Tiresias like a hunter would show off a lion he had tamed. Tiresias missed that particular subtlety, however, and behaved more like a thief invited into a beggar's hut only to find the beggar showing off a rare treasure. He completely ignored the customs of nobility and spoke to me directly.

"What an odd place to find someone of your caliber. Who are you?"

I barely needed to act to appear surprised and embarrassed. I refused to meet his eye and made a bit of an act of nearly dropping the platter. "I'm just a slave, sir."

Tiresias laughed and grabbed my arm as I tried to scurry back to the kitchen. "Marcus, you are either a genius or a fool. Tell me your name, girl, or I'll have to buy you off dear Marcus, here, and I don't think he would appreciate that."

Marcus, who had been practically gloating through the entire meal, now looked wary and uncertain. But he didn't say anything, so I had to answer. "My name is Tullia, lord."

"And I'm a horse's ass. Who are you?" I had always known I was going to run into another immortal eventually. I had hoped that it would result in Marcus' death or Marcus killing, and I cursed him mentally for being such a fool as to think anything good could come from a situation like this.

"My name is Tullia, lord," I repeated, doing my utmost to be submissive and deferential in my body language. I knew I wasn't fooling him, but if you're going to act, commit.

Tiresias sat up on his couch and pulled me closer. With his other hand he grabbed my chin and turned my face towards him. I stuck to my guns and refused to meet his eye, struggling only slightly and holding my platter steady. Tiresias tried to catch my eye for a moment, then looked over me at Marcus, who was still frozen on his couch. "Marcus, you have no idea of the viper you have brought into your home. No blood flows through these veins, just treachery, and she'll poison you if you're not careful."

I couldn't see Marcus, but I imagined he looked rather terrified. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head; he was trying to figure out a way of getting me away from Tiresias before anything happened. A pleasant dinner was beyond even his naive expectations. "What do you know about it?" Marcus challenged, but he didn't even sound like he was trying to seem unconcerned.

Tiresias laughed again and twisted me around by my arm so I had to face Marcus. The platter I had been holding finally fell to the floor. "This is no slave. It's not even human. You have sheep with more humanity than this. Maybe you should let it warm my bed tonight and I could try putting some humanity in it for you." I didn't meet Marcus' gaze. This was his mess. He ought to deal with it.

Marcus finally decided things were getting out of hand. "Unhand my slave," he said authoritatively. Paralyzed to commanding in five minutes. The aforementioned sheep could have gotten there faster.

Tiresias laughed and released me. I didn't bother catching my balance and fell forward on top of the spilt food. It would give me an excuse not to wait on them anymore. As Tiresias laughed at my spectacle, I scooped up the platter and ruined food and made for the kitchen.

A week later, Marcus was dead, killed by his own student (who I had never met). Tiresias' gift for spreading discord had also infected several important, if mortal, Roman denizens, and I was a free agent again. With a nagging sense of déjà vu, I left the city about to collapse in on itself. Only I had the sneaking suspicion only Tiresias would be spared by the falling rubble.

The sniper crouches next to me, rather uncomfortably, with Pao on his other side. Pao is paying a lot of attention to him, but it's unnecessary even if I don't waste the use of my eyes on him. My sense of sight is currently devoted to my binoculars, but the sniper still gets about forty percent of my attention, more than enough to keep him out of trouble.

"I don't get it," Pao whispers impatiently. "Why would she be here? I mean, could she really have followed us that quickly? And why here? This is just another warehouse like all the rest."

"All things come, Pao. I thought you had a higher respect for my talents than that." The corners of my mouth flicker as I only half attempt to suppress a grin.

"If she really is going to turn up here, why'd we bring him with? Surely he'll just get in the way."

The sniper surprises me and preempts my response. "Oh, you're Shirley?" He turns towards me. "This is just one big misunderstanding, then. I had the wrong target. My mistake, I'll just be going then."

Pao nearly chokes trying to keep herself from laughing. I grab the sniper by the ear as he moves away, but he's not really trying yet. I'm not sure why it bothers me so much that Pao found that funny. It's probably just that her getting along with a contract killer doesn't ease my concern over her being a killer herself. I would dearly like to talk about it with her before I find Rji, but that's not the sort of discussion you have with a stranger present, especially when the stranger is a prisoner whose collarbone you've broken. We could always have a "private" discussion in Chinese, except I'm pretty sure English and French aren't the only languages this guy speaks, and Mandarin is a tad mainstream. I taught Ben my mother tongue, but not Pao. I had deemed Chinese more important for her, and being trilingual is a lot to expect of a child when only one language is spoken in the community.

So I bite my tongue, keep my eyes pressed to my binoculars, and stay alert for trouble from the sniper. Minutes pass. Pao keeps trying to get me talking, the sniper keeps making snide comments, and I keep ignoring them. It isn't until minutes turn to hours that the sniper starts to loose energy and Pao starts outright complaining. I'm about to break down and actually talk to her when the sniper tries what I've been expecting for ages.

Pao, though small, is still taller and weighs more than me, and I guess this was what made the sniper attack me first instead of her, even though she was obviously less prepared than I was. He's even quite clever about his surprise attack. He feigns striking my midriff with his elbow and uses the cover and momentum of that attack to bring his leg around and kick my face. Unfortunately for him, I have better reactions than the average bear and grab his attacking leg and twist. Not quite as painful as kneecapping him like I threatened, but the damage to ligaments and tendons is about the same. He sprawls on his back, groaning rather more loudly than I'd like.

"That was stupid," I say to him. "That one'll take you a months of physical therapy to recover from." He just groans and tries not to move. I return to the binoculars. Pao rolls her eyes and tries to keep him quiet.

The sniper is still more or less unconscious on the ground forty-five minutes later when I finally see a sign that my instincts haven't been completely devastated by lack of sleep. A young immortal, maybe roughly Lucia's age, enters the warehouse. He unlocks but doesn't open up the warehouse doors, then disappears into an inner office. Half an hour later, he comes back out and waits outside. Pao and I watch him chain-smoke for another fifteen minutes or so before a SUV drives up. Two more immortals get out, one definitely an ancient, the other somewhere in between. No sign of Rji.

I put down my binoculars and move to the sniper, clasping my hand over his mouth before prodding him awake. "Come on," I mouth, both for his benefit and Pao's. "Time to move." To his credit, the sniper actually makes a lot of effort in keeping quiet while he tries to walk on his torn up knee. Pao tries to help him, but I sign for her to go first and help him myself.

Getting back to the car takes longer than I would like, but it's my own fault for injuring the sniper. I had counted on delays like this due to him, anyway, so it's not a big deal, although I do put myself at quite a bit of risk of a speeding ticket once we get on the way. Once we get back to Lucia's part of town, Pao starts trying to tell me what turns to make when I miss Lucia's street. Instead of arguing with her I just ignore her.

Parking on a street on the other side of the hill from Lucia's house (the sniper's car is probably over here somewhere), I hush Pao and help her get the sniper out of the car. I could probably leave the two of them with the car safely enough, but I don't want to risk it. We climb the ridge, keeping out of sight as best we can, until we're in more or less the same location I found the sniper the previous morning. I don't think this registers with him, but Pao notices.

"What are we doing?" she rasps.

"Catching someone red-handed," I mouth back.

She doesn't look satisfied, but at least she shuts up. I finally find a good position and let the sniper lay down while I get my binoculars back out and start spying on Lucia's house. All is well so far. This I can't determine so much by sight as by instinct, but at least seeing confirms that nothing appears to be amiss. I wonder how much longer we'll have to wait. Part of me expects Rji to move quickly, but another part expects her to be thorough and cautious. Pondering this, I set the binoculars down long enough to get into my little backpack. I had Pao two cereal bars, one for her and one for the sniper, and get one out for myself. Might as well make use of the time.

When the sniper falls asleep (for real this time), I decide I'm not going to get a better chance to talk to Pao.

"Pao? Can I ask you something?"

Amazed at her good fortune in finally getting me to talk, she doesn't even make a wiseass remark. "Of course."

"Why did you kill those men, the ones in New York?" I steal a glance at her, hoping to see a trace of shame or remorse. I do, but it's hidden under callousness.

"Pfft. They were criminals. They were in serious trouble anyway, I just put them out of their misery."

"I know you feel bad about it, Pao. It's better to deal with that sooner rather than later," I make sure I sound gentle rather than lecturing. Then I add, with more emotion than I intended, "I know about this, believe me." Maybe I just want her to be ready for some of the horrible things she's going to hear about me in the not so distant future.

I half expect her to be annoyed and dismiss my advice, but she sounds more like she doesn't believe I know what's really going on inside her head. "It's not that… I mean I feel kind of bad about them, but it's more like… it was harder than I expected." She blushes and looks away.

I nod. "That's a good thing, Pao, not bad. It's not cowardice."

I've hit a nerve. "But how do you know? I mean, they were one step removed from terrorists, they were a danger to the Watchers, a danger to world governments at large, and just generally scum. Surely I did what I had to do, and that shouldn't have been so hard."

I shake my head. "The reasons don't matter, Pao. Of course it should be harder if you're killing an innocent, but the reasons don't abrogate the fact that you're taking human life. That should always be hard. If you didn't hesitate, something would be missing in you, and it can be much harder to find than these worries you're having now."

Stubborn my daughter may be, but she knows the truth when it dances in front of her with a neon sign. I personally feel ashamed of myself for comforting her about murder, but an argument about whether she had to kill them or not would not and is not going to do her any good, and probably won't for a while yet. I just hope she's alive to face that conversation.

We sit in silence for a while and I wrestle with myself. I really want to tell her about Rji and the horrible truth about me, but I'm afraid. Not really of facing her judgment, but also of the memories. The longer I can go without intrusions the better.

I'm just on the point of telling her when I notice two immortals converging on Lucia's house.

Aristocrats. I hated how powerful people always ended up so royally obnoxious. Chastity had kept me waiting in this stuffy sitting room for nearly two hours now, I swear, for the sole purpose of demonstrating that he was more important than me. I had sent the servants out the instant I arrived, but now I was regretting it, simply because I couldn't send one of them to see what was taking so long.

The door opened, and in walked chastity, wearing an air of self-importance like an ugly uniform. Resisting the urge to strike the man, I preempted his greeting. "You need to act quickly. The merchants are out for your blood, and not just yours. All of you. They can act quickly, and probably will if and when they decide to. Have you taken any of the steps I've asked you to?"

Put out by my dismissal of pleasantries, he became defensive. "You know it's not that simple. Especially when I don't know who these merchants are. If you would-"

"I'm not telling you. When they move on you is when I'll tell you. But you need to be ready for that. You need to know how to strike and how hard. You need plain-clothes soldiers in the outer city, and you should have archers on the higher buildings. And not out in plain sight, more subtle than that. In the upper stories if you prefer."

He silenced me with a wave. "That is all very expensive and-"

"Expensive! Expensive is waging a completely pointless war with the primary source of your income. But that road has obviously been crossed. You told me you could speak for the aristocracy at large. You needn't foot the bill yourself. Enlist the others. Divide the city up amongst yourselves and protect your share like I've described. Have you made any overtures with the thieves at all?"

Chastity was thoroughly taken aback. "These things take proper planning and t-"
"Don't say they take time. You've had time. Now you're running out. Do you think I'm doing all this for my benefit? If I were thinking only of myself, I'd have left this cesspool and never come back. If you think they can't get to you behind your walls of silk, think again. Save your own life."

I turned and stormed out of the room, but halted at the door and turned back. "And if you keep me waiting for hours on end again, there won't be a next time." He might have considered how difficult it was for me to explain my absences to the merchants. I just hoped child's light wasn't developing suspicions about me.

Practically dragging the barely-conscious sniper behind us, Pao and I hurry down the hill to Lucia's house. One of them is at the back door, probably breaking in, the other, a woman, actually walked up and rang the damned bell. At least neither of them is Rji. My hunch is she's observing remotely, although it's possible she's going to join in. I don't think she will, primarily because you don't enlist five of your former students just to do all the work yourself.

Hidden against the side of the house, I wait until I hear the front door open and the girl step inside before moving around to the front of the house. Before revealing myself, I turn to Pao, who is struggling to keep the sniper conscious. "Pao, once we get inside, stick with the sniper and try to keep away from the two intruders, alright?" Not exactly rocket science, but I do not want her joining the fray. She nods and I relax a bit.

Still crouching, I move through the front door so I'm directly behind the girl. I'm just in time to see Christian drawing his sword in front of her as I strike her lower back with as much force as I can muster. She falls forward into Christian, who does a good job of staying on his feet, while I move forward and take her sword. She hurries to get her feet under her, scurrying away from Christian and me, but I'm faster. I hit her temple with the flat of her sword, successfully knocking her out. Christian asks something about what I'm doing here, but my attention is focused on Lucia and the fight she's having at the back door.

"Christian, tie up this one and keep an eye on her," I say as I head for the back door, still armed with the woman's sword.

Lucia and the other immortal look rather ridiculous fighting in the cramped kitchen, but they don't seem to notice. I really ought to leave the two of them alone, but my respect for tradition only extends so far. I join it, intent on ending this fight quickly. I don't know where Ben and Frank are, although hopefully they're simply hiding. Lucia gives me a disgruntled look as I draw alongside her, but she doesn't disengage. The man looks concerned at being double-teamed, but I don't give him enough time to consider it. Surprised, he looks down at his partner's sword in his chest, uncomprehending as to how it got there.

"There was no need for that," Lucia says, giving me a reproving look.

"Where are Frank and Ben?"

She gestures to the other room, and sure enough, there's Frank, gun out, crouching in a corner with Ben. Pao has joined him with the sniper. Feeling immensely relieved, I return to the front room where Christian and the woman are. Lucia starts to follow me, then changes her mind and stays with the "dead" man. The woman hasn't come around yet, but with Christian's help I drag her into the kitchen. I pull the sword out of the man's chest and take a seat.

"Anybody want to bet on who comes around first?" I ask the room at large, trying to lighten the mood.

Frank scoffs as he enters the kitchen. "I thought you were 'dealing with business elsewhere.'"

"Oh, right. You were bait. Sorry." I grin at him to show I'm not really sorry.

"What happened to one on one, Aiar?" Lucia asks, still annoyed at me.

"Hah. Rji's idea of a fair fight is me against her and five of her old students. Sorry if I don't feel like fighting fair."

"Well, you have five others on your side now, too."

I honestly hadn't thought of that. "Pao and Ben don't count. Christian barely counts; he can't be much older than he looks. Frank shouldn't technically count, either."

"That makes you the underdog, not outnumbered."

I laugh. "Me? The underdog? Di immortales! I hope not." Or maybe I hope so.

"What do you mean?" Christian asks, who looks as confused as Lucia.

I shrug. The last thing I'm going to do is brag. "Nothing. Just that I hadn't thought of it like that. I'm more worried about those two than myself," I say, gesturing at Ben and Pao, who are talking in the other room.

I'm spared from having to answer more questions when the woman starts waking up. Not trusting to the makeshift bonds Christian fashioned, I move to her side and pin her with my knee. I grab her chin and turn her head towards me.

"Congratulations," I say, mocking cheerfulness, "you just nominated yourself for our messenger service. Luckily for you, you don't have to contend with snow or rain or heat or gloom of night, although you'll probably have to work through a headache." Now she's more awake and looking pissed off. Even though her ankles are tied, she tries to kick at me with both legs. Lucia steps in unnecessarily and pins the girl's legs down with her foot. "Now, now, that's no way to thank us. You haven't even gotten your message yet."

"Go to hell! I'll never help you!" She tries to spit at me but she doesn't quite have the range of motion to put any momentum behind it.

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows, giving her an amused sort of grin. "And who am I?"

She wasn't expecting that. "Murderer!" she says when she recovers.

"Yes, and so are you, Radha, and so are all of our kind." She looks shocked that I used her name, but still has plenty of bile for me.

"I'm nothing like you!" she hisses, but I've just lost patience for this argument.

"Yes yes, now here's what you're to tell Rji. Mussel Rock Park, by the rock, tonight at sunset. I'd tell her to come alone but I know she won't." I don't give her the chance to respond, I just haul her up, with Lucia's help, and start dragging her outside.

In Gaelic, I say to Lucia, "Do you mind dropping her in an ally somewhere? You can take Frank with you."

She nods. "Sure. I like your friend, Frank. Where did you find him?"

"Hey, Frank!" I call before we reach the front door. "Come help Lucia, please."

Frank grabs the struggling Radha and I return to the kitchen. The other one is still "dead," but Christian is keeping a good watch on him, anyway. Pao and Ben are still in the other room with the sniper. Christian turns to me as I enter.

"How'd you know her name?"

I consider claiming to be a mind reader, a claim I've made before, sarcastically and otherwise, but decide my rapport with Lucia and Christian could do with some improvement. "It's little things like where she looks, the muscles she uses when thinking of herself, a whole bunch of minute signs in her body language that reveal what she's thinking about. You can learn to control the signs you yourself make, but obviously no one ever taught her."

Christian seems to find this very entertaining. "Oh yeah? So what am I thinking?" He does his best to keep his face blank, but he's trying too hard.

I laugh and say, "That I've watched too many Bond movies. Look, it's a nifty trick for dinner parties, but it isn't infallible or anything." As I say it, a thought occurs to me. Guilfoyle… I assumed the Kelly family, but I know another Guilfoyle that would make more sense than the mob. I think Michelson has been lying to Army Intelligence about me.