Free The Venice Conspiracy by Jon Trace Page A

power base.’
    Pesna looks concerned. ‘Rome is not much more than we are, but somehow it magnetises the avaricious. Settlers there are weaned on blood, not milk. One day they will be a bigger power and we must watch over our shoulders to see that day coming.’
    ‘You are wise, Magistrate. Perhaps we can use the current fear of Rome to progress our plans to build our lands and power in the north.’
    Pesna playfully rebukes his friend. ‘ My power, Kavie. Don’t forget your place in this grand scheme.’
    He looks offended.
    ‘Oh come, come. I chide you.’ Pesna gives him a reassuring look. ‘You are right. Fear is a good basis for building allegiances.’
    ‘Have you heard from Caele?’
    The magistrate smiles. ‘He will be here soon. Our ocean-going friend has enough silver with him to buy the world, let alone the small slices I require.’ He puts his arm around Kavie’s shoulder. ‘Can you write persuasive messages for me to send to men of influence in the other cities?’
    ‘I will have them drafted by dawn.’
    ‘Good. Now, my dear Kavie, my throat aches for more drink and my penis longs for the soft mouth of a pretty whore. Do you have anything else to tell me before I satisfy these most important of organs?’
    ‘One more matter, then I am done.’
    Pesna looks weary. ‘What is it?’
    ‘One of the elders tells me that your netsvis has been blinded.’
    The magistrate shakes his head in bewilderment. ‘Blinded? A seer who cannot see? This is a trick of the gods. What fate has befallen him?’
    ‘It is said he was performing a divination under your instruction and was blinded in a sacred fire.’
    Seeing the servant girl approach with the wine, Pesna is brusque. ‘Put it down and leave.’ He waits until she’s gone. ‘That is not a good omen. I told the netsvis to have the gods silence wagging tongues, not create more gossip and unrest. May the gods curse his stupidity! What are we to do with him?’
    ‘You must support him or kill him. There is no field to plough between those two trees.’
    Pesna pours wine as he ponders the options. ‘Very well. Tomorrow - when my head is clear and my balls are empty - we will decide his fate. Now, my friend, I pray silence from you. No more of your news.’ He nods to the servant girl waiting by the door. ‘I have much debauchery to engage in.’
    CAPITOLO XI
    Larthuza’s Hut, Atmanta

    In his fevered sleep, Teucer shouts and screams. He thrashes wildly and spits out names of demons unknown to Tetia and Larthuza. Pain roars through him. As hot as flames. As sharp as a needle through the eye. Larthuza holds him and with Tetia’s help administers another draft of valerian. They press his shoulders to the bed until the drug kicks in and his mind passes into calmer waters of unconsciousness.
    It’s long after dawn when they next check him. The healer seems pleased with the progress of the last few hours. ‘The gods have taken the fury from his wounds. He will be left with scars, but they will look naught but the scratches of an animal.’
    ‘And his sight?’
    ‘Sweet Tetia, it is too soon to speak of this. There was burning ash and wood rooted in his orbs. If the celestial gods wish their seer to see, then it shall be so.’ He takes her smooth and gentle hands in his bony old fingers. ‘Your love for him will impress the gods and bring him fortitude. Hold nothing back. Use your most feminine powers to bring him comfort and healing in every way you can. His body is hurt, but so too is his spirit and his soul.’
    Tetia nods. ‘I will always be indebted to you for your help.’
    He stands and hugs her. ‘Then I hope I will be repaid by living long enough to see that child of yours come into your life.’
    She instinctively puts a hand to her stomach.
    ‘And remember, you need to take care of yourself and that baby as well as your husband,’ Larthuza adds as he starts to prepare a poultice of feverfew.
    ‘I will.’ Tetia wrinkles her nose. The