Текст книги "The Queen of the Night"

Автор книги: Paul Doherty

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'Then I had her moved,' Apuleius intervened, gesturing up at the sky. 'The sun, the heat… the coolest place is the cellar. The rest you know.'

'But this is impossible,' Claudia exclaimed. 'That corpse must have been buried at least, what, nine, ten years ago? Yet, judging from the face at least, no decomposition, no corruption has apparently occurred.'

'I can't explain it,' Apuleius confessed. 'I've examined that corpse, and apart from those bruises there's no other mark of violence.'

'So what can explain it?'

Apuleius opened his mouth to reply, then glanced quickly at his wife.

'I'm reluctant to speak,' Callista confessed, blinking quickly. 'I'm glad Polybius summoned us. My husband is a peritus, an expert, but wc are also Christians. Apuleius recognised those symbols.' She paused and took a deep breath. 'That young woman, according to my husband, probably died a virgin.'

'Excuse me.' Claudia held up her hand and stared round. 'Where's Narcissus the Neat?' she asked. 'He was a professional embalmer; perhaps he could help?'

'Of course he can!' Polybius agreed. 'He too examined the corpse and agreed with Apuleius' conclusion. However, I've sent him out to discover all he can about what happened in this place during Diocletian's reign.'

'Sorry.' Claudia turned back to the apothecary's wife. 'Do continue, you were telling us of a possibility.'

'She may have died a violent death,' Callista declared. 'That bruising to her neck and shoulders…' She paused, then her words came out in a rush. 'During the reign of Dicoletian, Christians, as you know, were savagely persecuted. Young maidens were often interrogated and, in return for sexual favours, promised their freedom. Sometimes the questioning took place in private houses. I believe,' Callista stumbled over her words, 'this was the fate of our young woman. She was a Christian, brought into the city close to the Flavian Gate, interrogated and offered her freedom in return for sexual favours. She refused and was beaten or strangled, or maybe her heart gave out.' 'But why bury her?'

'Perhaps she was of good family.' Apuleius spoke up. 'She had not been brought to trial, so her killer may have become very frightened. He stripped the corpse and bought that casket. Being superstitious, he hastily prepared it, etched on the Christian symbols and buried her here.' He paused. 'If Christians had buried her, they'd have returned to reclaim the corpse. Mind you,' he added sharply, 'there's another possibility – our corpse was secretly buried by Christians who themselves died before the persecution ended and so all memory of her was forgotten.'

'It's possible,' Polybius agreed. 'During the Great Persecution and the consequent civil war, many properties out here were left empty. This garden, when I took over the tavern, was uncultivated.'

'But all this doesn't account for the preservation of the corpse,' Claudia insisted.

'Ah well.' Polybius gestured at Apuleius. 'You explain.'

'That young woman,' the apothecary replied, 'was a martyr, a saint. God preserved her body as a sign of her sanctity.'

'I've never heard-'

'Claudia!'

She turned round and groaned. Oceanus stood in the tavern doorway, next to him an imperial messenger, a white wand of office in his right hand, his left hand beckoning her quickly.

'The Empress!' Claudia rose to her feet. 'The dead are not so bothersome as the living.'

Chapter 2

Si natura negat, facit indignation versum.

If nature refuses, indignation will prompt my verse.

Juvenal, Satires

In the Nile Chamber of the Imperial Palace on the Palatine, the Empress Helena sat on a blue quilted stool and forced herself to smile at her visitors. In truth, at that moment in time, she wished she could drown all three of them in the river Nile whose glories decorated the chamber walls. She stared at these marvels in an attempt to calm herself: brilliant frescos glorifying the magnificence of the Great River, the water painted in vivid blue, with light green bullrushes sprouting along its banks in which black hippopotami lurked. Pink flamingos flew overhead shadowing a gloriously decorated barge full of worshippers sailing down to some temple whose gilded cornices peeped welcomingly above luxuriant palm fronds.

Helena shifted her gaze and stared down at her sandalled feet. She just wished Burrus, standing like the figure of Mars behind her, would stop sniffing. He should blow his nose! She had told him that so many times. Beside her Anastasius, her secretary, sat as if carved out of marble, staring across at Cassia, the former courtesan who was now one of the Magdalena. Helena could understand Anastasius' fascination. Cassia was dressed so simply, so purely in white robes, her only ostentation being the beautiful wild flower nestling behind her ear, its pink petals resting against her resplendent curly golden hair. Cassia's dark eyes smiled. Of medium height, with a voluptuous figure, she reminded Helena of an exquisite statue of Aphrodite she'd once owned when living in Corinth, perfect in every detail. She sighed. Cassia fascinated Anastasius not only with her looks, but also because, like him, she was a deaf mute, something which had happened to her during childhood. Ah well, at least Cassia was pleasant and smiling, unlike the Lady Urbana beside her. Helena glanced quickly at the powerful, beautiful wife of the even more powerful former general Aurelian. Urbana was dressed severely, no paint on her face or jewellery; a simple robe covered her Junoesque figure, whilst her raven-black hair was pulled in a tight knot behind her lovely oval face, making her look much older than she really was.

'Your Excellency Augusta.' Urbana leaned forward. 'We have presented our petition. Senator Carinus is prostrate with grief; the Magdalena are at his villa even now comforting him.'

'I know, I know,' Helena murmured, trying to hide her exasperation. Urbana had already said that! She was relieved when Cassia began to make strange signs with her fingers, the eunuch sitting beside her watching intently. Helena, who communicated with her own secretary in a similar way, couldn't understand the signs, and by his growing restlessness, neither could Anastasius. Cassia's interpreter also intrigued Helena. He was of medium height, olive-skinned, a Parthian who'd served Cassia when she was a leading courtesan in the city long before her conversion to Christianity and the Magdalena. He was good-looking, just past his thirtieth year, his dark eyes bright and intelligent, a snub nose above a smiling mouth, his black hair cropped close; a silver earring in his right lobe, a bracelet on his wrist, and beneath the dark green tunic, a gold chain around his left ankle. He sat watching Cassia, then turned and gently shrugged one shoulder.

'My mistress,' his voice was cultured and soft, the intonation correct, 'wonders why the Augusta, who has so many spies and agents, has not discovered anything about the gangs perpetrating these outrages?'

'Leartus,' Helena smiled at the eunuch, 'who said they were gangs?'

She heard a sound and looked up. The door at the far end of the chamber opened and Chrysis, the fat imperial chamberlain, waddled in. Helena suppressed a sign of relief.

'Ladies,' she turned to the eunuch, 'Leartus.' She spread her hands. 'I do understand your deep concerns. However, I must ask you to withdraw for a while, perhaps have a word with the actor Theodore. I do thank you all.' She played with the ring on her finger, fighting to control her anger. To be lectured here in her own palace about the security of the state, in the presence of a Parthian eunuch! Yet her son had been most insistent.

'Aurelian Saturninus was a great general, a friend of my father.' Constantine had glared at her. 'Mother, you've known him for years and so have I. Don't upset either him or his pious prig of a wife. I want you to smile and keep your voice low.'

Well, she had, but the effort had been great.

Helena wiped the sweat from the palm of her hands on her gown. A servant led her guests out through one door whilst Chrysis, beaming from one protuberant ear to the other, ushered Claudia and Murranus into the chamber. The Empress took a deep breath and relaxed, snapping her fingers at Anastasius to serve light white wine and spiced biscuits. Claudia and Murranus made to genuflect, but Helena quickly gestured at the vacated stools. She grabbed a goblet of wine, sipped quickly and bit into one of the biscuits, examining her visitors out of the corner of her eye.

Murranus, as ever, was a handsome man, lithe and tall, all muscle, no fat, his red hair shorn. His face was smooth, surprisingly unmarked and intelligent, betraying none of the stupid aggression of so many gladiators, or worse, the dandified, slightly effete ways of the great champions. Beside him Claudia looked so small, and for a moment Helena thought of them making love. She swallowed quickly. Presbyter Sylvester had warned her against such sexual curiosity and advised her to rein it in. Helena smiled at Murranus, who had now been brought into what she called the Mundus Secretorum, the World of Secrets. Claudia, his beloved, was one of her agents. He'd been told that and warned that to betray her would mean death. The gladiator had accepted the warning, just a shift in his eyes betraying his annoyance at being threatened.

Claudia sat beside Murranus, nibbling at a biscuit and sipping ever so carefully from her goblet. Helena let her shoulders sag. Claudia the little mouse, she reflected, a mere slip of a girl looking much younger than her years with her mop of black hair and ivory-pale skin. Those eyes, large and expressive, were ever watchful, and behind them was a mind that could twist and turn with the best of them.

'Augusta, Excellency.' Claudia swallowed, hiding her mouth. 'It is good to look upon your face, as it is on yours, Anastasius.'

The secretary stared coolly back, only the brief smile in his eyes betraying his own welcome for this mysterious young woman.

'And of course…' Claudia's voice changed, becoming vibrant and voluptuous. She heaved a dramatic sigh and stared in mock adoration at Burrus, captain of the Empress' bodyguard. 'Oh Burrus, I dream of you so often.'

Burrus grinned and bowed.

'And I dream of you too,' he replied, winking quickly at Murranus to show he meant no offence. In truth Burrus was very much in awe of this warrior and certainly smitten by what he called his 'delightful shield maiden'.

'So we are all pleased to see each other.' Helena clapped her hands. 'Chrysis,' she barked at the chamberlain, standing just within the doorway, 'you can go now, and I mean go! Don't stand on the other side and eavesdrop, and there's no need to go looking: you'll find no slit or eyehole in this room.'

Chrysis, still grinning, bowed and withdrew. Helena waited until the door closed, then lifted her head as if listening to the music of the songbirds from the garden. She glanced swiftly at Murranus, now scowling into his cup, then back at Claudia, whose gaze never wavered as she still nibbled that biscuit.

'Now, little mouse,' Helena began, 'listen and listen well.' All propriety forgotten, the Empress got to her feet and moved her stool so close her knees almost touched Claudia's. 'Four weeks ago, the daughter of a wealthy senator was kidnapped as she travelled down the Via Salvana to visit friends in the country. A ransom of twenty-five thousand gold coins was demanded.' Helena held her hand up at Murranus' low whistle of surprise. 'The girl's parents were sent a note which could have been written by any common city scribe, whilst it was delivered by a boy who could provide little description of who had given it to him. The note mentioned where and when the girl would be released, at the great cemetery which borders the Appian Way, close to the mausoleum of some long-dead merchant. Now you know that cemetery, a forest of grass, decayed tombs and undergrowth. A myriad of paths and hiding places wind their way through it.'

'Whilst beneath lie the catacombs,' Claudia added.

'Precisely,' Helena agreed. 'The girl's parents were warned that any attempt to trap their daughter's abductors would mean she'd suffer a slow, lingering death and they would never see her again. On the appointed day, at the appointed hour, the steward of that girl's family left two panniers full of gold coins at the place stipulated. The parents had been advised that once these had been scrutinised, they could return to the cemetery around the ninth hour and find their daughter. They did so with a comitatus of freedmen. The girl was found. She had been released long before the ninth hour. Her hands were still bound; she'd been simply gagged, blindfolded and left to wander!' Helena took a deep breath. 'The parents found her just in time. Some of the Inferni, the rabble who prowl such places…' She paused as Claudia flinched. 'You know about these?'

Claudia would not tell the Augusta how, in the catacombs beneath that cemetery, she'd often met Presbyter Sylvester the powerful lieutenant of the Bishop of Rome, as the Christians called their leader. She had always been on her guard when she went there,– the Inferni were truly creatures of the dark. For an innocent girl to be found by them…

'What happened?' she asked.

'The Inferni had released her gag and were about to rape her,' Helena replied. 'Only the girl's screams alerted her parents. The Inferni fled, and she was found safe and sound. In subsequent weeks three more abductions took place, the same pattern being followed. None of the victims could tell the Vigiles anything.' Helena spat the words out, showing her usual contempt for the corrupt city police. 'They could say little more than that they'd been abducted, blindfolded, chained, kept in a cold place, fed, allowed to use a latrine, and threatened now and again by a voice.

They could tell us nothing about that voice, be it Roman or from the provinces, male or female.' Helena paused. 'Then last night, Antonia, the beloved only daughter of Senator Carinus, was kidnapped. The ransom note demanding the same sum arrived this morning. She is to be released in two days' time.'

Helena opened the small casket on the floor beside her and handed Claudia a piece of dingy and grease-marked parchment. The stark message was bluntly inscribed: 'Antonia, 25,000 gold coins on the day after tomorrow near the tomb of the tribune Marcus Sonertus in the cemetery of the Appian Way. She will be released at the ninth hour; failure or trickery will kill her.'

Claudia studied the crude letter and recalled that sprawling, lonely cemetery. She only went there because she had to. Not only did the Inferni roam there, it was also the haunt of warlocks, wizards, sorcerers and outlaws, dark souls who seethed in the shadows of Roman society. The cemetery lay beyond the city gates with many approaches, a dizzying warren of snaking tracks and twisting paths, and beneath it more passageways, tunnels and caverns.

'Claudia? Claudia?' Helena smiled at her. 'I haven't finished.'

'Augusta, I'm sorry.'

'Don't be, just stay attentive. The fate of a few children should not really concern me, but the senators of Rome are agitated, their womenfolk even more so.' Helena licked her lips. 'The peace my son has imposed has engendered a great love for the Christian religion. Groups are forming; the most important of these are the Magdalena. They are

Christians, wives of leading men in Rome who fully accept the Christian way. They believe they are administering to Christ just as the Jewess Mary Magdalene did. Every noble cause attracts their attention, especially,' Helena smiled, 'the conversion of fallen ladies, the women of the night. The Magdalena are led by the Lady Urbana, wife of Aurelian, a former comrade of my husband and son, a general who did great work for us in Britain. Aurelian held the province during our scramble for empire. I have known him since I was…'

Helena's voice had turned wistful. It was the closest Claudia had ever seen her come to talking about her early days when, according to snobbish courtiers, Helena had been a great beauty, the daughter of a simple tavern-keeper from some provincial town.

'Ah well.' The Empress smiled softly. 'I have known him since I was a green shoot. Now Urbana,' she added brusquely, 'is British, a refugee from that province. She caught Aurelian's eye and became his second wife, stepmother to the general's beloved only son, Alexander. Yes,' she added as if talking to herself, 'wife to Aurelian, one of the richest men in Rome. Urbana left Britain as a girl and came with her father, a Roman officer, back to this city. Britain was sliding into chaos; the Picti and Scoti came flowing over the wall to the north, whilst pirates were plundering the coast. The roads became swollen with refugees; families were separated. One of these refugees was Cassia, a beautiful child made mute by the horrors she had witnessed. Urbana befriended her, but when they came to Rome they drifted apart. Cassia became a leading courtesan. Urbana, years later, after she had married Aurelian, was baptised a Christian. She met Cassia and converted her, took her from a life of pleasure.' Helena's voice turned cynical. 'Cassia is now Urbana's constant companion, whilst hers is a eunuch, the Parthian Leartus who translates for her. I mention these because soon you will meet them. Treat them carefully, none of your sharp talk.'

'Augusta, why have they come here?'

'Ah, first because they brought the ransom note left at the Villa Carina where the Magdalena are still comforting the good senator. Secondly, they also brought Theodore the actor. He was with Antonia when she was abducted. Theodore claims he tried to defend her. In the struggle he allegedly knocked off the mask of one of the attackers and, perhaps, gained a description of him. Thirdly,' Helena blew her cheeks out, 'Urbana is a very powerful woman. She is, in fact, representing all the senators, merchants, administrators and generals of Rome, and more importantly their wives, who are now protesting at a so-called breakdown of law and order in the city. I need not spell out, Claudia, what is involved here. My son is Emperor of the West; one day he will march east to become emperor of the world. He'll bring that pervert Licinius to battle and annihilate him. We need these powerful people of Rome until…' Helena paused, 'until we've marched to the rim of the world, then we'll build a new empire, even a new city.' She glanced at Murranus. 'Is all this beyond you, gladiator?'

'Should it be, Augusta?'

Helena laughed. 'I asked you to come here.' She offered Murranus her goblet of wine. He took it, drank deeply and handed it back. 'Urbana is now very nervous about her stepson Alexander. I want you to be his bodyguard; you'll be paid lavishly.' Helena acknowledged Claudia's wide smile. 'I could have given them Burrus.' The Empress looked warningly over her shoulder at the hulking German still standing to attention behind her. 'But he and his lovely lads have to be kept on a firm leash, otherwise it's wine and women and anything that moves.'

Burrus nodded sharply in acknowledgement.

'Anyway,' Helena continued sweetly, 'the lovely boys would miss me. Every so often they need a good tongue-lashing to keep them in line. Well, Murranus?'

The gladiator shuffled his feet. 'Your Excellency, I…'

'Of course he would!' Claudia answered for him.

'Good!' Helena purred. 'You really have no choice. I'll introduce you to Urbana later. You will do it, won't you? You're a freed man, Murranus, a loyal subject of the Emperor. Moreover, it will do you, not to mention Claudia here, the world of good to be away from that disgraceful riff-raff down at the gladiators' school, roaring boys, all of them! Ah yes,' Helena continued in a rush, 'Claudia, for a while you will have a new guest at the She Asses: the actor Theodore, you've heard of him?'

Claudia shook her head.

'Neither have I, but he acts as if the whole world is entranced by him. He is, he was, Antonia's friend. As I said, he was present when she was abducted; he allegedly glimpsed the face of one of the attackers and swears he would certainly recognise him again.'

'Rome is a popular city.'

'So it is, Claudia, but Theodore has a description, he can give that to you, you will distribute it, among the gangs which swarm in the Suburra, the poorer quarters. Perhaps Theodore can look around that great midden-heap near the

Flavian Gate.'

'You mean the place where I live.'

'I am sorry.' Helena rubbed her eyes. 'I am tired. Well, no, I'm angry!' She took her hands away. 'I don't like being lectured about law and order and its breakdown. Rome has never been an easy city to govern, but to cut to the chase, when you are finished here, take Theodore with you.' Helena rolled the wine goblet between her hands and glanced up sharply. 'One further thing. This may not seem important, but it is to my son. As I have said, Aurelian and Constantine served together in Britain. Twenty years ago that province teetered on dissolution and destruction. The Great Wall to the north, which protected it from the Caledonians and Picts, was breached time and again. It was the Season of the Pretender, the Usurper. The Empire itself was under threat. My husband and son were drawn into the storm. Consequently, for my son, myself and our supporters such as Aurelian, that province and anything associated with it is special! Especially the men who served us. Soldiers who at a time of mutiny defined their allegiance and declared for us.' She clicked her tongue. 'One such group was an ala, a much-depleted wing of the Catephracti serving in a mile fort along the Great Wall. They called themselves the Fretenses, the Wild Boars, and did sterling work, not only in holding the fort and supporting my husband and son, but at the time of crisis in trapping and annihilating a powerful Pictish war band. They achieved all this with the loss of only one man, their centurion. Once order had been restored in that province, members of the ala received medals, decorations and piaemia, financial rewards, together with full Roman citizenship. As a group they were given honourable discharge and decided to settle in Rome.' Helena pulled a face and shrugged. 'Some died, five still live, or did until two weeks ago, when one of them, Petilius, was brutally murdered in his chamber; another died last night in the Street of Abundance near the House of the Golden Cupids. Nothing was stolen, but the manner of their murder was truly grisly. A stab wound to the belly, their throats cut, and,' Helena added, 'both victims were castrated, their penises sliced off and placed in their hands.'

'What?' Murranus exclaimed.

Claudia remained silent. Murranus always surprised her. He was shocked, but she wasn't; just mystified, as always, at the sheer cruelty of men.

'There are as many ways of killing a man,' Helena continued, 'as there are dogs in Rome, but this is different. I have spoken to Aurelian. The first victim, Petilius, had been to Aurelian's villa recently. The General had decided, like all soldiers do,' she raised her eyes, 'to have a reunion. Since then, Petilius had returned on a number of occasions, pestering Aurelian's stewards and freedmen for an interview with the General, who was too busy to meet him. Anyway, Aurelian has petitioned my son, the Emperor,– he wants these deaths investigated. You, Claudia, will do that. Aurelian now regrets that he did not give Petilius an audience; the castration puzzles him, because that is exactly what the Picts did when they caught a Roman. They always killed him, cut his throat, ripped open his belly, sliced off his testicles and, as a gesture of contempt, left them in the dead man's hand. Three members of the ala still live; they meet as a funeral club calling themselves the Vigiles Muri, the Guardians of the Wall, in the Lucia Gloriosa tavern. They'll be there tonight. I think you should meet them. Well,' Helena rose to her feet, 'I'm sure you have questions, but they'll have to wait. Burrus, my furry shadow,' she added, 'bring more stools, some fresh wine and sweet biscuits, then we'll meet our guests.'

Claudia excused herself. She slipped out of the chamber and asked a chamberlain for directions. She found the latrines deserted and momentarily marvelled at the sheer luxury of the tiled floor, the marble walls, the mosaic celebrating Neptune's glories, the paintings of pot-bellied ships with golden sails on light blue seas, their waves gilded with gems under a glowing sun set in an amethyst-studded sky. She relished the coolness afforded by vents high in the walls. She went across to the lavarium, poured cold water into a bowl and washed her hands and face, then sat on a ledge in the corner drawing deep breaths to calm her heart. She was still recovering from the events at the She Asses,-now all this! Yet her joy at Murranus' new-found post made it all worth while. At last! Claudia tapped her feet on the floor; she could dance with glee! Murranus would not fight! He would have a secure post, the beginning perhaps of other • things.

Claudia recollected herself, hastily checked her gown and hurried back to the chamber. Helena and her guests sat in a semicircle. The Empress glared at Claudia and gestured around, quickly introducing Urbana, Cassia, Leartus and Theodore. Claudia was immediately aware of the beauty of the two women: Urbana, severe and strict; Cassia soft and mellow like a rare flower blooming under the sun. Murranus sat staring at the latter, mouth gaping. Claudia felt a stab of envy. Urbana was beautiful in a patrician, haughty-faced way, but Cassia was sultry, her eyes full of laughter, lips ripe and voluptuous. Claudia swallowed hard and took her seat. Helena made a sign. Urbana, ignoring Claudia, continued to talk about Murranus' duties in looking after the young Alexander. She acted imperiously, impressing upon the gladiator the need to guard her stepson night and day, how he would sleep in the outer chamber of the boy's bedroom and accompany him everywhere he went. She insisted that he must be armed at all times.

Claudia kept looking at Cassia and the dark-faced eunuch standing a little behind her. Claudia had worked with many eunuchs. Leartus had some of their effete ways but he was not so tense or fidgety. He stood dark-eyed, smiling as if he was enjoying the impression his truly beautiful mistress was making on the company, Helena included. Cassia was now smiling at Claudia, talking with her eyes, glancing quickly at Murranus then back at her. Claudia grinned. Cassia was telling her brazenly that Murranus was handsome but Claudia need not worry. She had to stifle her laughter as Cassia threw a quick glance at Theodore and raised her beautiful eyes heavenwards. Claudia fully understood the reason why. Theodore looked and acted the born actor. He was athletic, of medium height, his smooth-shaven face heavily oiled under a mop of curly black hair, his eyebrows neatly plucked, lips slightly painted. He was a man used to being at the centre of attention. He fidgeted constantly, pursing his lips and playing with the glittering bracelets on his wrists.

Urbana's clipped, precise speech drew to a close, and she turned to Claudia, scrutinising her curiously.

'Claudia enjoys my full confidence,' Helena murmured softly, 'as does Murranus.'

Claudia decided not to wait for Urbana to deliver another speech. 'You have come from the Villa Carina?' she asked. 'Senator Carinus must be distraught and angry. How did his daughter's abductors gain access? Surely there were guards?'

Urbana gestured at Theodore, who was almost jumping up and down on his cushioned stool, eager to speak. 'There were guards,' the actor declared as if delivering the prologue to a play. 'Senator Carinus had hired some bully-boys, but they were quite drunk. It was I who raised the alarm.'

'Tell me,' Claudia interrupted, 'what exactly happened?'

'I was with Antonia in her private part of the garden near the Fountain of Artemis. We were discussing Seneca's Oedipus. Suddenly,' Theodore flailed his hands, 'out of the trees slunk these walking shadows, phantasms of Hades.'

'The attackers?' Claudia demanded, trying to keep her face straight.

Cassia had now lowered her beautiful head, that mop of golden hair hiding her face, and her shoulders were shaking.

Leartus was chewing on his lip but his eyes were bright with laughter.

'The attackers?' Claudia repeated.

'They were dressed in leather kilts, bare-chested except for belts and baldrics. Actors' masks covered their faces as if they were characters from one of Terence's comedies. I-'

'Then what happened?' Helena snapped.

Theodore remembered himself and some of his dramatic flourishes ceased.

'They grabbed Antonia. I attacked one and dragged off his mask. I saw his face in the torchlight, bearded and scarred; his nose was broken, his lips puffed out, a former boxer surely?'

'When you join us at the She Asses,' Claudia remarked, 'you must give us that description again. Perhaps there is someone there who might recognise it.'

She paused, studying Theodore intently. She had no evidence, nothing but her own instinct, yet she was sure the actor was lying. She had lived, eaten and worked with the likes of Theodore from Ravenna in the north to Tarentum in the south. They were all the same: good people, but they lived for the performance, the show, whatever that might be. So if Theodore was lying, why? To win the favour of Carinus so that he'd be lavishly rewarded as the saviour of the hour, the great hero, a story he could dine out on in the wine booths of the city? Or was he part of the conspiracy? She recalled those heavy masks actors wore; they were usually strapped very firmly to the face. Had Theodore really pulled one off? If not, and she really believed he hadn't, why did he mention it?

'Then what happened?' she asked softly.

Theodore nursed the side of his head. 'I received a blow.' He assumed all the airs of a victim. 'I fell down. I was in great pain, confused. By the time I recovered, Antonia,' his voice broke dramatically, 'Antonia,' he sobbed, 'was gone! Those creatures of the night had taken her!'