Gaius and Cleo were in his family's villa in Londinium. Cleo sat back on a sofa, a sheaf of papers in her hands, while Gaius paced back and forth.

“Well, she never showed up in Caer Lug. It looks she went back north,” Cleo said, shuffling through the pages.

“So the pirate attack worked, then. Any idea where she went?”

“Brigantia, looks like. That's good; it was our best case scenario. Hopefully she'll be able to talk to her mother there.”

Gaius slumped down onto the sofa. “I wish we could just talk to her.”

“You know what Corentin said: she's not ready yet. Hopefully she'll start moving again, and not toward Tereus. Then we'll be able to trust her.”

“Unless that's Tereus’s plan.”

Cleo moved some papers to the front of her stack. “Unlikely. It's pretty clear he's making a play for the island. Staging a Pictish invasion is a bold move, but Tereus’s disadvantage is that he's too busy trying to be tricky. It's why were going to win. While his soldiers are busy playing dress-up we've made alliances with the Irish, the Brigantes, the XX Legion, and the Saxons. He has no hope.”

“I hope you're right. All this plotting is giving me a headache.”

“That's why I'm the brains. You're the money-pouch.”

“Normally I'd disagree with you, but this time I'm happy to let you be the brains.”

“Sure, you can let me be the brains if you want to look at it that way.”

Gaius just rubbed his temples, too tired to spar. “When is Corentin getting here?”

“Tomorrow. Then as soon as we know Maddie's spoken with her mother we can send up a beacon.”

“What's left, then?”

“Just for you to pay compensation for those sailors’ families.”

“Good, then I'm going to go lie down. This really is giving me a headache.”

Cleo waved him away. “Go, then. I still have work to do. More plotting.”

As Gaius left, a slave came in with another thick stack of papers for Cleo. She laid them out and started studying them carefully, looking for any advantage.