Queen of the Night

Chapter 9

Nobilitas sola est atque unica virtus.

The one and only true nobility is virtue.

Juvenal, Satires

Claudia watched the Presbyter walk across the grass and glanced down at the manuscript. She trusted Sylvester. All he wanted was the Empress' attention. If she brought this bloody mayhem to an end, discovered the abductors, the murderers, and handed them over to imperial justice, Helena would be more susceptible to Sylvester's diplomacy. Meanwhile, Claudia chewed her lip, once she returned to the She Asses Uncle Polybius would have a great deal to explain! Claudia leaned back in the flower arbour and thumbed through the manuscript. At first she attempted to read it quickly with a swift study of the appendix, but Celsus fascinated her with his clever, shrewd observations about medicine and potions, the different effects of certain powders. She returned to the beginning, read the prologue and carefully studied everything Celsus had written. The more she read, the more certain she became that Sylvester was correct. The Blessed Fulgentia had been murdered by a powerful poison called arsenic, but how, why, and to what extent her uncle and Apuleius were involved were matters she still had to resolve. Sylvester would protect her. She also thought about Theodore. Something pricked her memory, something she'd remembered.

Once she'd finished, Claudia left the arbour and returned to the villa, finding her way back to the library. The librarian was about to lock up, claiming he was looking forward to his lunch of mushroom bread, lentils and barley soup. Nevertheless, he patiently heard Claudia out, then shook his head.

'We have nothing in our library,' he said, 'about medicines, potions or plants, I assure you, mistress.' Claudia made to object.

'You can search if you want,' the librarian declared. He handed her the key. i leave it to you.' 'Claudia, Claudia?'

She turned. Burrus and four of his companions came hurrying across the lawn, their faces dirty and sweat-stained, hair and beards more unkempt than usual. Burrus unhitched his great shaggy cloak, let it fall to the ground and crouched down, peering up at her. i have news,' he gasped.

The librarian slipped away. The Germans had found another wineskin and passed it to each other. Burrus took a mouthful, rinsed his tongue then spat it out.

'I have two messages for you, Claudia.' He stared, blue eyes unsmiling. 'We have been down to the copse. We found no pit, no hole, nothing covered up, but we did find the marks of a cart; that is how they came here, and that's probably how the attackers removed their dead.'

Claudia closed her eyes and beat her fist across her thigh. Of course, the attackers would use a covered cart, pretending to be farmers or merchants, leave the road and, under the cover of the trees, arm themselves and prepare. The same would happen afterwards: the dead would be loaded on to the cart, followed by the masks, armour and swords; in a short while they would be just another covered cart rattling along the busy thoroughfare into Rome.

'And the second message?'

'The Empress is not pleased.'

'I know that!' Claudia snapped.

'She has ordered you to return to Rome immediately to continue your investigation. You are to leave within the hour. You may take your farewell of Murranus, who will stay here. The Empress does not want any distraction for you in Rome.' Burrus delivered the message in clipped, short sentences, then he smiled. 'I am to accompany you. The Empress believes that I will protect you.'

Claudia moved over and patted the huge barbarian on his head. 'I think you are being sent to spy on me, Burrus. To make sure I do what the Empress wants.'

'If the Empress wants it,' Burrus whispered, 'that's how it must be, little one.'

'How soon?'

'We must be gone within the hour.'

Later that day, Claudia sat in Polybius' orchard and watched her uncle, Narcissus, Apuleius and Oceanus finish what had proved to be a delicious meal served by the She Asses' new chef, Celades. Polybius had reluctantly employed the Pict, only to discover he was a real treasure, a skilled practitioner of the culinary arts. Claudia had returned to find the tavern doing a bustling trade, serving a range of cheap dishes cooked by Celades and advertised on a board by Polybius. The local stonemasons, carpenters, tinkers and traders had flocked into the tavern. Now darkness was falling. Claudia had insisted that Celades prepare a sumptuous meal so she could share some news with her uncle and friends. Celades had surpassed himself, serving up hare, hot and spicy, in a sauce stewed from cumin seed, brown ginger, bay leaves and olive oil, followed by ham cooked in a red wine and fennel juice. Poppaoe lit the lamps. Claudia watched her uncle finish off the last of what he called his 'Special Vintage'. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and grinned at her.

'Well, Claudia, what news do you have for us?'

Claudia looked over her shoulder. Poppaoe, Januaria and the rest were back in the tavern entertaining Burrus, who was telling frightening stories about the monsters, giants and trolls that prowled his northern forests. She turned back. Now was the time.

'The young woman whose corpse was found here, she was certainly not a saint. Presbyter Sylvester has told me that.'

In any other circumstances Claudia would have burst out laughing at the effect of her words. Polybius gaped. Apuleius put his face in his hands. Oceanus nervously thumbed the pickled ear hanging on the cord round his neck. Narcissus the Neat stretched out for his wine cup.

'I don't want to hear any more lies,' Claudia declared. 'I will tell you exactly what Presbyter Sylvester and I have discovered. This morning he gave me a copy of Celsus' De Medicina.' She ignored Apuleius' loud groan. 'Now Celsus talks of many poisons. In fact he made me reflect on a number of things, but one of the subjects he mentions is arsenic, and he describes, in great detail, the death and embalmment of Alexander the Great at Babylon some six hundred years ago. Alexander's body was marvellously preserved, probably due to the arsenic which someone had used to poison him. I am sure the same thing happened to Fulgentia, or whatever her name was. So I want the truth, and I want it now!'

Polybius recovered his wits and opened his mouth, but Claudia looked at him warningly.

'You deserve the truth,' Apuleius began, raising his hands, gesturing at his companions to remain silent, 'and I will tell you the truth. The name of that young woman was Fulvia and she killed herself. Let me give you the details. Years ago my wife and I were sheltering Christians fleeing from the persecutions of Diocletian and Maxentius. Now we all know what happened: families broke up, people wandered the roads, entire families disappeared, children would return home to find parents gone, parents would return to find sons and daughters taken up in the middle of the night. Fulvia was a refugee, an exile from Tarentum. She was passed on by various local Christian churches until she reached Rome.' He sighed. 'To cut a long story short, four years ago we took Fulvia in. She may have proclaimed herself a Christian but she was a thoroughgoing nuisance. She was hysterical, hot-tempered, bitter and constantly critical; her real vocation was to be an actress or a dancer. Everything was a drama for Fulvia. She used to threaten my wife and me with going to the authorities, denouncing Christianity, becoming an apostate. At other times she threatened to kill herself.' Apuleius drew in a deep breath before continuing.

'Now I am an apothecary, a physician. One day I had a confrontation with her, and she became hysterical, screaming and shouting at me. She threatened that she would take some powders, kill herself, and I would be to blame. Of course, I didn't believe her. That same night, in the early hours, I heard sounds from downstairs. I came down. I have a special chamber where I keep potions under lock and key. Fulvia had managed to break in and open one of the coffers. She thought she'd taken some relatively innocuous powder; in fact, she'd mixed too much arsenic with her wine and there was nothing I could do to save her. She eventually slipped into a coma, then death. The marks on her neck and shoulders are due to when I tried to make her vomit or to dilute the poison she'd taken with salted water, even some milk. But as you know,' he smiled bleakly at Claudia, 'if you've read

Celsus, the antidotes for powerful poisons are fairly futile. Fulvia died. I knew what would happen. Already I was under suspicion of being a leading Christian in the local community. If Fulvia's corpse was found in my shop, the Vigiles would come, then the soldiers. I had Christian manuscripts, sacred vessels concealed there. I couldn't afford to risk anything. So I came to my old friend Polybius, who had just taken over the She Asses, and told him what had happened. At the dead of night I moved the corpse here. We washed and cleaned it. I anointed it with a wax-like substance to close the pores of the skin, sealing the powder within, and wrapped the corpse in linen.'

'Arsenic gives off a powder,' Claudia declared. 'I saw traces of it when I first viewed the corpse.'

'True,' Apuleius conceded. 'I told people that was from the wood; it's the one effect of arsenic which is difficult to conceal. We thought no one would notice. I also had some denarii from Diocletian's reign. I thought I'd put them over the eyes – this would help date her death to years earlier.'

'And then what?' Claudia asked.

'I went to a local embalmer and bought the coffin. I carved the Christian symbols on it. We put Fulvia in it and buried her out here in the garden. We always intended to move her. The rest you know. The morning Venutus discovered her, Polybius naturally panicked and so did I. I was truly astonished at how well the corpse had been preserved.' Apuleius gestured at Oceanus and Narcissus. 'We took them into our confidence and they swore to help us.

Anyway/ he sighed, 'we took her out, washed her, resealed the skin and cleaned the inside of the coffer. We then peddled the story that it might be a Great Miracle, the work of God. On reflection,' he added ruefully, 'it was. If Fulvia's corpse had been discovered the night she'd died, my wife and I, well, we could have been crucified or sent to the amphitheatre.'

'You still could be,' Claudia declared. 'They would certainly accuse you of murdering her, of hiding her body, and you, Oceanus, Polybius and Narcissus, would be cast as accomplices.' She pointed at Narcissus. 'The story about the old porter in the gatehouse?'

'A story,' he mumbled. 'He'd remember anything if you gave him a coin for a cup of wine.'

'There is one thing you must all do,' Claudia whispered fiercely. 'Presbyter Sylvester will never mention this, and neither must you. You must keep your mouths firmly shut, and take an oath on anything you hold sacred that you will never, ever discuss this again. Let Helena have her Blessed Fulgentia. We know the truth. Polybius, you have made a great deal of money out of this trickery. I suggest you have the most to lose. Now you've repaid Torquatus' loan, I have one thing to demand of you.'

'Which is?'

'No more business ventures.' Claudia jabbed her finger. 'No more spices from Punt or precious sandalwood from Arabia or gum and resin from Lebanon, nothing! Do I have your promise?'

They all held their hands up like consuls taking the oath. Claudia had to suppress a smile.

'Tell me, Apuleius,' she did not wish to deepen their embarrassment, 'is arsenic that effective?'

'It's a true killer,' the apothecary replied, 'and its effects can rarely be traced. The patient suffers from stomach cramps and nausea as if he has eaten something bad or his blood is tainted. You've helped me, mistress.' He leaned across the table. 'I and the rest have already been thinking of how to help you. I mean, over that actor Theodore.'

'And,' Claudia asked, 'you've remembered something?'

'We've remembered nothing,' Apuleius declared, gesturing at the others to remain silent. 'But do you recall, Claudia, when Theodore came here he was suffering from cramps? He claimed he didn't feel well?'

Claudia felt the cold night breeze about her shoulders.

'What are you saying, Apuleius?'

'I am always intrigued by a man who dies in such circumstances. Naturally Fulvia's death weighed heavily on me. I thought of poison again. Mistress, in this tavern that night, no one entered whom Polybius didn't know. Remember, it was by ticket only; everybody was queuing up to see the Great Miracle.'

'And?'

'Which one of Polybius' customers would want to poison an actor they'd never met before?'

'What are you implying?' Claudia asked.

'If Theodore was murdered, and I think he was,- if he was poisoned, and I suspect he was,' Apuleius half laughed, 'then that happened long before he came here. Mistress, did you stop at any wine shop?'

Claudia tried to recall all the details. 'We did visit the Temple of Hathor near the Coelian Hill and met its high priest, Sesothenes, but I cannot remember Theodore eating or drinking anything. Thank you, Apuleius. Now, gentlemen,' she smiled, 'unless you are going to make another great discovery…'

They all took the hint, thanked her and left. Claudia heard them laughing as they went back up the garden path and into the tavern, to be greeted by roars of welcome by Burrus and his ruffians. She sat in the dark, watching the lamps flicker out. She preferred the dark to think. Moreover, it was such a beautiful evening, the sky completely cloud-free, the stars seeming to hang low, the full moon riding in all its glorious golden majesty across the dark blue heavens. She wondered how Murranus was doing, her mind going back to those macabre murders at General Aurelian's villa. Was there a loose thread? And Theodore's mysterious death? She'd found the Celsus manuscript fascinating, and recalled what Apuleius had said. If that was true, she thought, if Theodore was murdered, where did he eat or drink last? And why had he insisted on visiting that temple and that strange high priest?

Claudia felt her stomach tingle with excitement. Of course! She nipped her arm in self-punishment. She'd forgotten that! She'd passed it off as Theodore wanting to thank his favourite goddess before he joined the company at the She Asses, but that could have waited. So why did he go to the Temple of Hathor? She glanced up at the sky. It had been a long day, but she still felt fresh, not ready for sleep, whilst Burrus and his ruffians needed to work. They'd been sent into Rome to watch her, so watch her they could!

A short while later, Claudia left the tavern escorted by five German mercenaries. Burrus shuffled behind like one of the great trolls from his dark forests, grumbling under his breath at being snatched away from the coy glances of Januaria, the delicious food of Celades and the strong-bodied wine offered by Polybius. He and two of his companions carried torches taken from Polybius' stock; these, together with the clink of their weapons, made the street shadows shift away. Tinkers, counterfeit men, wizards and conjurors, the sellers of cheap stolen goods, the pimps and prostitutes all fled before what they recognised as a true menace. Claudia was absorbed in her own thoughts. She wished she'd concentrated more on Theodore. He was the key and she had forgotten that. Something else pricked her memory, something she'd read in Celsus' book and learned at the villa, but at the moment she could make no sense of it. She must first visit the Temple of Hathor. They went deeper and deeper into the slums, heading down a needle-thin street to where the temple stood in its own grounds. The denizens of the slums warned each other of the approach of strangers at night. Claudia could hear their shouts echoing eerily.

'Woman coming! Woman coming! Soldiers with her! Soldiers with her!' The message was passed along by these disembodied voices. Claudia felt she was walking down a path in Hades, with some dark-winged herald going before her.

When they reached the open square before the Temple of Hathor, the building looked deserted and boarded up. The doors were locked, bolted and barred. A beggar squatted on the top step. Claudia, escorted by Burrus, hurried across.

'The priests are here?' she asked. 'They've closed the temple, but are they here, in their house at the back?'

The beggar, milky-eyed, skin all sore, blinked and wetted his lips.

'Hungry I am,' he said, 'and I heard the shouts! Woman coming! You are a plump, delicious little morsel. If you hadn't these with you…'

Burrus half drew his sword. The man's voice turned wheedling.

'I am only a beggar,' he whined, i need something to eat and to drink. I'll tell the pretty lady everything she wants to know.'

Claudia pressed a coin into his hand; his skin felt rough and serrated, and his middle finger was missing.

'Soldier I was,' the man whined, following her gaze. 'Lost it in a battle far to the north fighting warriors like these.'

'The priests?' Claudia asked. 'Sesothenes and his followers, are they in the house at the back?'

'Go see, go and search,' the old man replied, 'but you'll find no one, they've gone they have, all gone.'

Claudia stared up at the carved images of Hathor, the Egyptian Goddess of Happiness, on either side of the door,-these didn't look so pleasant or alluring, but rather grotesque and sinister in the half-light. Followed by Burrus, she walked down the side of the temple, looking up at the boarded and shuttered windows. They reached the garden wall; its gate was locked, so Burrus kicked it open. They entered the tangled, dark-shrouded garden, stumbling about, and eventually Claudia found a path which led into the centre. She stopped before another statue to some Egyptian god she didn't recognise and glanced around. At one end stood the house, cloaked in darkness, its windows also boarded; from somewhere close echoed the blood-chilling howl of a dog. She walked to the rear of the temple,-there was a small door, padlocked and studded with iron nails, that not even Burrus could move. Further up, on either side of the door, were windows. Claudia found some empty crates, piled them together and climbed up. She pulled at the shutters; they held fast, so she got down. Burrus clambered up and, with the hilt of his sword, broke his way through.

Helped by Burrus, Claudia climbed the temple wall, grasped the sill, pulled herself over, then dropped into the darkness within, bruising her leg and stubbing her toe. After a hoarse conversation with Burrus outside, the German managed to pass a torch through. It fell in a shower of sparks. Claudia picked it up, pointing it downwards so that the flame regained its strength, then held it out. The temple had a row of pillars down each side, and an altar near where she stood with steps leading up to it; on this perched an empty cupboard, the naos or tabernacle, its doors flung open. Claudia walked the full length of the temple and back. It smelt dank. She heard the mastiff howling again and wondered if there was some underground chamber beneath the temple, though the barking came from outside, from the direction of the house rather than the temple itself. She walked along the wall, the flickering torch bringing to vivid life the scenes carved there. Suddenly she stopped and gasped. The walls of the temple were covered in crude paintings depicting the various stories about the gods of Egypt. Most of the paintings were about Hathor, Lady of Happiness, the Lady of Jubilees, the Woman of Drunkenness, the Bringer of Glee. As Claudia studied these, her mouth went dry. It had been years since she'd attended a temple or watched any votive offering being made, be it pagan or Christian, but now she recalled how Egyptian priests, whatever cult they followed, always wore masks. Was it possible? she thought. Was that why Theodore had come back here? The actor hadn't recognised anyone's face, but he had recognised the masks from the Temple of Hathor.

Claudia ran across and shouted at Burrus. After a great deal of cursing and muttering, torches being flung through and filthy oaths uttered, the Germans also climbed into the temple. Two torches were extinguished and had to be relit, whilst Burrus and his men bruised legs and arms. Claudia quietened them and organised a thorough search. They found a door to a small recess; Burrus kicked this open and they stepped down into the smelly, cold darkness. Claudia went first, moving carefully, holding the torch before her. When she reached the bottom of the crumbling steps, she looked round. Nothing but an empty cellar, damp earth and stone walls, oil lamps in one niche, a candle in the other. She crouched down, peering through the darkness, while Burrus and the rest fanned out holding the wall, their heads almost touching the ceiling.

'Nothing/ Burrus declared, coming back, 'nothing but this.' He threw what looked like a piece of leather at Claudia's feet.

She picked it up and turned it over. It was a leather sack; on one side she recognised, etched in silver, the abbreviation for Senator Carinus. She got to her feet, stomach pitching, her heart beating fast.

'What is it, little one?'

'Quickly,' Claudia urged, pointing towards the front door of the temple, 'seize that beggar.'

Burrus and his companions hurried back up the steps into the temple. Claudia heard the beam being lifted, bolts being drawn, the doors creaking open. She sighed in relief when she heard a yelp; the beggar hadn't moved! Burrus dragged him back inside. When Claudia went back up the steps, the beggar was kneeling in a pool of torchlight, gazing fearfully up at the great shaggy beasts staring down at him. Burrus drew his sword and laid the flat of its blade on the man's shoulder. The beggar whimpered, head going down to the floor.

'Please,' he begged, 'I know nothing.'

'What do you know?' Claudia crouched down, tipping back his head. She opened her wallet and took out a silver coin. The man stared greedily. 'See,' Claudia urged, 'I don't wish to harm you. Tell us what you know. Where are Sesothenes and his priests?'

'They've gone,' the beggar replied. 'Those mastiffs you hear howling, they belong to them. They left them here as guards, but they've gone.' 'Where to?' Claudia urged.

'Back to Egypt, that's what I heard, making pilgrimage they were, taking statues to the Lady Hathor's temple at a city called-'

'Memphis,' Claudia declared. 'From which port?'

'The only port,' the beggar grinned, chewing on his black teeth. 'Ostia! They've gone there, all singing and happy.'

Claudia tossed a coin to the beggar and rose to her feet.

'Burrus, which one of your lovely lads is the best rider? I need him to take an urgent message to the Emperor. Another must ride to Ostia and tell the harbourmaster to use his authority. Sesothenes and his priests must not be allowed to leave. They are to be arrested and brought back here to Rome.'

Late the following evening, Claudia was satisfied that she had made the right decision. Burrus had dispatched his riders and Sesothenes and four of his companions had been arrested at the port of Ostia, just as they entered the harbour to take ship to Egypt. They'd been placed under arrest and were now on their way back to Rome. At the same time, soldiers sent by Helena from General Aurelian's villa had ransacked the Temple of Hathor and the house standing behind it. They'd found the dogs wandering inside, savage, cruel brutes, and had had no choice but to kill them. Everything else in the house, they reported, had either been burned or taken away. They could find nothing to substantiate Claudia's suspicions, but that sack was enough to convince her. Sesothenes and his gang of priests had organised the kidnappings, she was certain of that. She remembered Chaerea, how Burrus had said that he had been savaged by dogs before he'd been killed and his corpse burned. Sesothenes had used those dogs. He had also used the information he'd gathered amongst the rich and wealthy who made offerings at the temple, to discover who went where, and so plan his abductions. Nevertheless, Claudia was also certain that the hunt was not finished. She would have to wait until she confronted Sesothenes herself.

The following morning an imperial messenger arrived at the She Asses tavern. Claudia was to accompany him back to the Palatine. Helena had decided not to wait on ceremony. She had set up her own court in the Peacock Chamber, a gloriously lavish building at the heart of the palace. Constantine sat enthroned, Helena to his right, the priest Sylvester to his left, a public sign of the growing power of the Christian Church in Rome. Claudia and Murranus sat on stools to the left of the throne. Across the tiled floor were five more stools for Sesothenes and his companions. The five priests had been arrested but not harmed. They looked smug, arrogant, ready to defend themselves and insist on their rights. They were ushered into the imperial presence dressed in white gauffered robes, their shaven heads and faces gleaming with oil, precious bracelets and rings winking on wrists and fingers. They bowed, genuflected and took their seats. Sesothenes glared across at Claudia, lips moving in some wordless curse.

'We are here,' Constantine trumpeted, 'in an imperial consistory where I am Pontif ex Maximus et Judex, Supreme Pontiff and Judge.' He pointed at Sesothenes and his companions. 'Serious charges, the gravest allegations, have been levelled at you: kidnap, extortion, murder and treason. What say you?' innocent, Your Excellency.' Sesothenes' voice was strong and carrying. 'We are priests, citizens of Rome, former soldiers of the Empire. According to the law we must know our accuser.'

Constantine glanced at Claudia. i am she,' Claudia retorted. i thought as much.'

'Why?' Claudia mocked.

Sesothenes smirked and looked away. Claudia tried to keep calm. The only real proof she had was a leather sack lying on the floor between them, and the beggar, now held by the guards in an antechamber. She did not wish to bring him in; just his presence was threat enough. She could not trust him; he might say anything, change his mind or even revoke his testimony. She stared round the chamber, Sesothenes was conferring with a colleague on his left. The Emperor and Empress remained impassive. Murranus too, strangely enough, was distant, lost in his own thoughts. He had kept well away from her and now sat, hands on knees, studying her out of the corner of his eye. The colour had returned to his face, whilst a quick examination of the side of his head showed the bruise was healing beautifully.

Claudia wondered what was about to happen. She shuffled her feet to hide her unease,- something was very wrong, even though Helena was openly delighted at the arrest of Sesothenes and the others. The news had already been proclaimed around Rome, and this consistory court was part of that proclamation, yet it wasn't really necessary. An imperial judge could have tried the case in the halls of judgement. Constantine, by referring the matter to himself, was advertising this confrontation even more, whilst the presence of the enigmatic Sylvester ensured that the powerful Christian community was being involved in what was happening. But why was the Presbyter sitting next to the Emperor? What had Helena planned? Why was the Augusta so quietly confident? She had not granted Claudia an audience to discuss the matter, or even allowed Murranus to speak to her.

'What proof do you have?' Sesothenes' question cut the silence like a lash.

'There.' Claudia pointed at the leather sack lying on the ground. 'It bears the inscription of Senator Carinus,- he has been shown it. He recognises it as a sack used for part of the ransom paid for the release of his daughter.'

'And?'

'It was found in the cellar of your temple.'

'What proof is that?' Sesothenes turned to the imperial thrones. 'Excellencies, anyone could have placed that in our temple. Our shrine is open; many pilgrims come with votive offerings. Someone could have left it there deliberately.'

Constantine nodded slightly as if in agreement.

'Excellencies/ Sesothenes pressed the point, 'we have all heard about these abductions. A great deal of gold and silver was delivered; these sacks could lie all over Rome.'

'Four days ago,' Claudia tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, 'Murranus here was attacked, assaulted on a lonely country road outside General Aurelian's villa – you know what happened. Outside I have a witness, a beggar man who plies his trade in the portals of your temple. He claims that on the night before the attack, you and your companions loaded a cart, pulled by two horses, and left the temple.'

'And I have witnesses,' Sesothenes retorted, 'that four days ago wagon took me and my companions to visit the Sacred Groves of Diana, which, as you may know, also contain a shrine to our goddess and patroness, Hathor, Lady of Gleefulness.'

Claudia decided not to reply to that. Sesothenes was cunning; undoubtedly others would be ready to come forward and take an oath that what he said was the truth.

'But why did you leave your temple?' she accused. 'Stripping both it and your house of all possessions, burning what you could not take with you?'

'This is Rome.' Sesothenes half laughed. 'We were going on a long journey, a sacred pilgrimage to Egypt to worship before Hathor in her white-walled city of Memphis. We intended to stay there some time. Our temple and our house contained our possessions; those we wanted to take with us, we loaded on to carts and took down to the port of Ostia; the rest was rubbish, so we burned it. We did not wish to return to find both our house and our temple pillaged.'

'And the dogs?' Claudia asked, clenching her fist in annoyance. Sesothenes seized on this weakness.

'We have guard dogs, as do many temples in Rome,' he replied, smirking at her. 'The very fact that we left them there is sure proof that we would eventually return. We paid someone to go in to feed and tend to them. What crime is that? What proof is there that we are guilty of abduction, kidnap, murder and treason?'

'And your masks?' Claudia asked. 'I have studied the rites of Hathor; those who serve her wear masks at the sacred dance and sacrificial offerings.'

'Our masks were cumbersome and old; we burned them as well. We planned to buy new ones when we reached Memphis.'

'And Theodore,' Claudia persisted, 'the actor who was murdered at the She Asses tavern; he visited your temple?'

'Precisely,' Sesothenes broke in, glancing sly-eyed at the Emperor. 'He died in your care, at your tavern. None of our company visited the She Asses that night; we had nothing to do with his death.'

'But why did he visit you?' Claudia repeated the question. 'Why should an actor who had recently witnessed the abduction of the Lady Antonia wish to visit you before coming to the She Asses tavern?'

'The answer is logical enough,' Sesothenes answered. 'He wished to render thanks; you witnessed what happened. I met him in the temple porch, remember? We went inside. Theodore walked forward and stood before the altar. He sprinkled some incense on the sacred flame, then left. What are you implying?'

'Why should he do that?'

'To give thanks for his escape, I suppose.' Sesothenes shrugged, i had a few words with him and wished him well, that was all. He returned to your care.' Sesothenes pressed the point. 'He went to your tavern, where according to rumour he was poisoned. When he visited our temple, wc gave him no food or drink, nothing!' Sesothencs flung out a hand. 'You have laid serious allegations against us, yet the proof you offer is paltry! A sack, a visitor to the temple, the fact that we took care of our own possessions, that we visited a shrine outside Rome and prepared to journey to our mother shrine in Egypt. The cult of Lady Hathor has as many devotees,' he glanced quickly at Presbyter Sylvester, 'as that of the Christian Church.'

Claudia decided not to reply, but glanced at the Empress. Constantine, sitting beside her, looked as if he was asleep; he sat slouched, eyes half closed. Helena was staring at the far wall as if totally engrossed by the painting describing Aeneas' escape from burning Troy.

'You talk of our Church.' Sylvester stirred as if waking from a sleep. 'You are a priest,' he continued conversationally, 'like me. You must, therefore, keep a Liber Diurnalis, a Journal of the Feasts, the dates of sacrifices and rituals. On the days the other abductions took place, can you prove precisely where you and your companions were, and who saw you there?'

Sylvester's question was unexpected and caused anxiety. Sesothenes blinked and glanced quickly at his companions.

'We could account,' the high priest replied slowly, 'but it would take time.' He stumbled over his words. 'We would have to contact certain devotees of our temple.'

Claudia noticed that Sesothenes was impatient to dismiss this point.

'Claudia,' Sesothenes turned back to her, 'you said that Murranus was attacked four days ago. He is well known as a champion gladiator, a warrior. According to what we know, many of those who attacked him were either killed or injured, but look,' he gestured at himself and his companions, 'not a cut, not a scar, no injury'

'That is no proof of innocence,' Claudia declared. 'You sent others to do the deed, ruffians you hired from the slums of Rome; you wanted them killed, silenced, that's why you attacked Murranus. I'll return to Presbyter Sylvester's question,' she added quickly. 'If you were given the precise dates and times, could you account for your whereabouts?' She forced a smile to hide her own unease. If she wasn't careful, this case would descend into a mere wrangling match of accusation and counter-accusation.

'I am being accused,' Sesothenes shouted, 'I and my fellow priests, former soldiers, citizens of Rome, by this-'

'And by me!' Murranus declared. 'I too am a citizen of Rome, Excellencies.' Murranus turned towards the Emperor. 'We could sit and argue like children squatting in the streets. The evidence against Sesothenes is compelling; there is a case to answer. He was preparing to flee Rome, he was absent from the city on the morning that I was attacked and Alexander was murdered. He was visited by Theodore for some strange reason, a man who was later mysteriously murdered. Sesothenes has yet to account for his movements and those of his followers on the other occasions young men and women were abducted. A sack used by Senator Carinus to pay the ransom was found in the cellar of his temple. Sesothenes owned mastiffs. The Lady Antonia talked of dogs while the imperial agent Chaerea was savaged before his body was burned.'

Claudia glanced sharply at Murranus. She could not recall if she had told him such details, but he was talking as if well versed in all that had happened. Something was very wrong. The case was about to take an abrupt turn. Sylvester was leaning forward, tense. Constantine was watchful, Helena smiling to herself.

'Caesar has the right to bring any case before him,' Murranus continued in a loud, carrying voice. 'All citizens of Rome have the right to appeal to Caesar, and there is no further appeal from Caesar except to God.' He sprang to his feet. 'I appeal to my God, the Lord Jesus Christ. I also appeal to the customs of ancient Rome and the Ius Gladii, the Power of the Sword. Excellency, I challenge Sesothenes and his companions to put their trust and faith in their goddess Hathor, as I do in the Lord Christ. Let the truth be decided by the sword in the arena!'

Claudia froze, horrified. The room swayed, and a roaring like that of a mob dinned her ears. Sesothenes and his companions were arguing fiercely amongst themselves. The Egyptian sprang to his feet, looking confident. He was accepting the challenge. He had realised there was no other way out, that to refuse might confirm the allegations against him, whilst five men against one in the arena meant the odds were strongly in his favour. Presbyter Sylvester was staring at the floor. Constantine was beaming. Burrus, alerted by the excitement, was coming forward from the door. Helena sat, a look of triumph in her stare. Claudia just bowed her head and mouthed the word 'bitch'.

'Murranus, are you so stupid, so full of your own-' 'Shut up!' Murranus bit into the piece of chicken before grasping a morsel of barley bread and dipping it into the mushroom and onion sauce. 'Shut up!' he repeated.

Claudia, face flushed, eyes glaring, pushed away her platter.

'Why say that?' she screamed back, ignoring the curious stares of the other customers at the She Asses tavern.

'You must hear what I have to say,' Murranus continued, making matters worse by winking at her.

Claudia could not control herself. She sprang to her feet, knocking the platter and cup from the table, and stormed out into the garden. She walked to the very end, next to the crumbling wall, and slipped behind the luxuriant undergrowth, a place she always visited whenever she wished to hide from everyone else. She sat down with her back to the wall and yielded to the tantrum seething within her, beating her fists against her knees, drumming her heels on the ground and mounting a litany of curses against Constantine, his mother, Presbyter Sylvester and anyone else responsible for this debacle.

At last breathless, Claudia closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Helena was a cunning bitch! She had achieved the result she wanted. The suspects, innocent or guilty, had been named and proclaimed throughout Rome. Helena had kept her public promise: justice was being seen to be done, whilst she had turned her vindication of imperial authority into a public display of the righteousness of the Lord Christ, who would deal out justice to the gods of Egypt. Claudia opened her eyes. She dared not think of the alternative. She glared through the tangled bramble growth and glimpsed the pinpricks of light from the She Asses. The only thing Murranus had promised her was that he would keep it quiet, at least for this evening, and make the announcement the following morning. Once that happened, Claudia knew, the She Asses would be visited by the crowds, whom Polybius would welcome with open arms.

Claudia had attempted to seek an interview with the Empress, but Burrus himself had refused her and escorted her from the palace precincts. She had tried to go back to visit Murranus, but again entrance was denied. Furious, she had stormed home and locked herself in her own chamber, only coming out when Murranus returned for the evening meal. Polybius and the others suspected something was very wrong, but they'd have to wait. Claudia ground her teeth. On reflection, it was little wonder that Murranus had been kept from her, or that Helena had refused to meet her. Murranus must have been encouraged to appeal to that ancient right of the sword! Claudia pulled a face. Not that he needed much encouragement! Murranus was deeply aggrieved that young Alexander had died in his care, whilst he himself had been beaten and humiliated. A cleverly woven trap, Claudia reflected, for Sesothenes and his coven. She had little doubt they were guilty,- that sack had been a hideous mistake. If the imperial prosecutors did a thorough search, drew up a list of dates and times, the evidence against the priests would accumulate, but there was more, Claudia was sure of that. A tangle of lies and deceit still lay about her. Helena could posture and turn justice into a public spectacle, but the real truth…

'Claudia, Claudia.' Murranus' voice echoed through the dark. 'Claudia, I know you are in there, please come out.'

She sighed, got to her feet and walked out on to the lawn. Murranus, muffled in a cloak against the night breeze, was standing holding a lantern. He went to put an arm round her shoulder, but she shrugged it away.

'Murranus, how could you?' she muttered.

'Quite easily' Murranus had drunk deeply and swayed on his feet. 'The Augusta confided in me, as did Presbyter Sylvester,- the rest was simple. They are guilty, Claudia.'

'They are not the only ones!'

'What do you mean?'

'Murranus, there are still many questions about those abductions, not to mention the murder of the veterans, but let's not change the subject.'

'I am not.'

'Why did you agree?'

'It was necessary. The evidence against Sesothenes was compelling, but not convincing.' Murranus groaned and squatted down on the grass, placing the lantern beside him.

'Claudia, I recognise Helena's trickery, but I am a warrior. A young man was committed to my care. He was murdered, along with four other good men, no different from your uncle Polybius, Oceanus and the rest. Their shades demand vengeance. There is something else.' He leaned forward. 'Rumours are out. The betting has begun. The Empress has pledged me a purse of gold, as has Urbana, now that she is a very wealthy woman.'

'We don't need their money!'

'Yes we do, Claudia.'

'Murranus,' Claudia knelt before him and took his face between her hands, 'a warrior you are, but once again you are going into the arena. You will face five men, former soldiers, ruthless killers, all trained in arms. Has Helena considered, has Sylvester thought, has Urbana reflected, that you could lose!'

Murranus gently prised her hands loose. 'Claudia,' his voice filled with passion, 'I swear this to you, I may not win – that is the roll of the dice – but Sesothenes and his companions will certainly lose.'

Claudia stared at a point behind Murranus' head. Helena had definitely persuaded Murranus to fight, but what about Sesothenes? What had she done to convince that evil priest to respond? Claudia recognised the Empress as a gambler, but a very crooked one. How had she loaded the dice?

By the following morning, the impending contest was known throughout Rome, Mercury the Messenger spreading more details through the entire slum area around the Flavian Gate. Claudia, furious, still had to admire Helena's cunning. The abductions, as well as the murder of Alexander, were now forgotten. The suspects had been caught; imperial justice had been vindicated. If Sesothenes and the others were innocent, if they did escape judgement, what did the mob care? They were to be entertained, free of charge. The entire proceedings were given an extra spice by Murranus' open declaration for the Lord Christ. The gladiator was known to be sympathetic to the new religion, but many viewed his declaration as the work of Helena. According to Mercury the Messenger, the marketplaces, schools and taverns were speculating about why the Christians, who openly avowed non-violence, had allowed themselves to be named in a bloody fight to the death in the arena. Was it a sign of further change, an accommodation between Christianity and the state? Mercury also informed Claudia of how placards and graffiti were appearing around the city championing one or other of the combatants, the gamblers were placing their bets, whilst public opinion was swaying against Murranus. After all, wasn't he getting older? Hadn't he been severely injured in the recent attack? And his five opponents, were they not former soldiers whose drill was just as hard and ferocious as that of the gladiator school?

Claudia, sick with worry, closed her ears to all this and tried not to think. Murranus sensed her mood and absented himself, keeping well away from the She Asses and the delicacies served by Celades. He fasted, eating only sparingly, whilst undergoing the iron-hard discipline of training. Unlike last time, however, when he had prepared for his fight against Meleager the Marvel of a Million Cities, Murranus now trained in public and the reports were not good. He was slow, sluggish, some said even slightly frightened of his sparring partners. Claudia truly felt like a mouse, one cruelly trapped by ugly rumours, whispered comments; even Polybius, rejoicing in his new-found wealth, looked worried. Now and again her uncle would slip away to see Murranus for himself. On his return he always looked glum.

During those first few days Claudia only experienced spiralling terror as she squirmed and cursed Helena. She wondered if she should go down on her knees and beg Murranus to withdraw his challenge, but she conceded that would be fruitless. After a while her own hard discipline exerted itself. She had to forget, to concentrate on the problem in hand; there was a task to be finished. She excused herself from the She Asses and, whenever possible, went back to her little spot in the garden close to the curtain wall, where she moved a stool, a table and her writing tray. She would sit in the dappled shade and reflect on everything that had happened.

Her thoughts turned to one vexatious problem: Theodore's death. He'd definitely been poisoned, but according to Polybius and Apuleius, he hadn't eaten or drunk anything at the tavern. Claudia wrote down everything she knew about Theodore, from the first time he impinged on her life to his sudden and unexpected death at the She Asses. She concentrated on this. The only time she returned to mingle with the customers was to satisfy her own hunger, as well as to establish what the murdered actor did on that fateful evening. She swiftly drew one conclusion. Theodore had taken a goblet of wine just before he retired, but complaining of queasiness, he had not eaten or drunk anything else. The wine spilled in his chamber meant the cup was still full when it was knocked over. She compared all this to what she had written, and suspicions no bigger than a prick on her memory began to surface. She spent an entire day reflecting on everything she had seen and heard, yet impassable obstacles hindered the path she was trying to follow. She sent for Sallust the Searcher. He met her full of apologies that he had made no progress on the identity of the young woman whose corpse had been unearthed in the very garden in which they were meeting. Claudia dismissed this even as Sallust, sad-eyed and down at the mouth, grasped her hand.

'Claudia, Claudia, the games take place in three days. I've heard the news. Is Murranus mad? Rumours seep from the gladiator school; his friends are concerned about him, stories about injuries, of him being too slow. They say the odds against him are mounting. The Egyptian and his company are training in the Field of Mars.'

Claudia pressed the tips of her fingers against Sallust's lips.

'Enough,' she whispered. 'I want you, Sallust,' she moved her fingers and touched the tip of his nose, 'to use that,' she forced a smile, 'to ferret out gossip and chatter.' She handed over two small scrolls. 'This is a letter for the Augusta, the other is for Murranus. I will await their replies and whatever you learn.'

In the end Helena responded immediately, or rather

Chrysis the Chamberlain did so on her behalf, confirming everything Claudia had asked. Murranus dictated his reply to a city scribe but then added in his own rough hand:,' miss you, I love you, I never stop thinking of you.

Claudia wept quietly and touched the scroll with her hand before launching into a silent litany of new curses against Helena, the Emperor and the mob. The customers at the She Asses caught her mood and kept well away. She refused to mix with them, even when Petronius the Pimp held a special evening to give a mock lecture on Priapus and popular devotion to the cult of the penis. This was well attended and the raucous laughter echoed across the garden where Claudia sat staring down at her scraps of parchment. Celades tried to tempt her with filleted beef cooked in a rich pepper sauce. The Pict was now a transformed man, cheery-faced, full of schemes for the future. He, Polybius and Narcissus the Neat dreamed of a marvellous partnership: Polybius and Celades would look after the body and all its pampering before death, while Narcissus, with his embalming skills, would set up shop in the same insula and offer a service second to none for life after death. However, everyone knew that such matters would have to wait. Murranus was about to fight for his life, and Claudia realised that, instead of blaming him, she must accept that she had played her own part in what was happening. She berated herself, cursing her own self-absorption, and vowed not to act the victim. She sent Murranus a love note. He replied by slipping into the She Asses for a brief while, going out into the garden with her, holding her tenderly yet passionately, whispering that he would not die and she must trust him.

'We'll save the day,' he whispered. 'We will sit here with our own children's children, play the fife and dance the dance. Trust me, Claudia, I am a warrior. My death does not call me, not yet.' He kissed her gently and left.