Текст книги "The Queen of the Night"

Автор книги: Paul Doherty

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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?'