Queen of the Night (12 page)

'No!' Claudia groaned. 'Uncle, what happened?' She walked slowly across to the bed and felt the corpse's cheek,- it was cold, almost wax-like. She knelt down, pushing the corpse more securely on to the bed. Murranus helped her. She sniffed at the mouth and smelled nothing suspicious, but she could tell by the popping eyes, the rictus, the way the lips were forced back that Theodore had been poisoned. Death must have been fairly swift.

She got to her feet and turned round. Uncle Polybius stood in the doorway, one hand on the Vigiles' shoulder to steady himself.

'What you see is what we know,' Polybius pleaded. 'We were having such a marvellous celebration downstairs. The kitchen was doing a busy trade. Theodore left, saying he felt distinctly unwell, and came up here. I decided to invite him back down to keep an eye on him as you asked. So I came up, banged on the door, but he wouldn't answer. I got Oceanus to force it.' He gestured. 'It happened an hour ago, and now we've got trouble! I didn't ask him to come here, Claudia!'

'He's been poisoned.' Apuleius came up behind Uncle Polybius and forced his way through. 'Look around, Claudia.'

Claudia glimpsed the wine cup. It had rolled against the wall, a pool of wine around it. The stool next to the bed had also been knocked over as if Theodore had been lying on the bed and then become agitated, arms flailing, tipping over both the wine cup and the stool, trying to get himself up before collapsing back on to the bed.

'Do you know the cause?' Claudia asked.

Apuleius dug into the purse on his belt and handed the captain of the Vigiles a coin; the officer promptly disappeared. The apothecary and Polybius walked into the chamber, forcing the broken door shut behind them and placing the broken stool against it. For a while they helped Claudia and Murranus arrange Theodore's corpse along the bed, folding his hands over his stomach. Claudia had seen enough death that evening and, taking a coloured cloth from the wall, she covered the dead actor's face. She then sat on the floor, her back to the door, and stared up at her uncle.

'What caused this, what happened? I thought you'd look after him.'

'We did.' Polybius squatted down, sitting cross-legged like a schoolboy. 'We were enjoying ourselves. People were flocking in to see the Great Miracle. Apuleius was here. Theodore complained of a sensitive stomach. Anyway I could see he was beginning to sway, and I said perhaps it was time for a lie-down, take it easy for a while, so he came upstairs, and the rest you know.'

Claudia pointed at the corpse. 'Are you sure he was poisoned?'

'I think so.' Apuleius sat on the edge of the cot bed and stared sorrowfully at her. 'I don't know what noxious potion, some plant, but he has definitely been poisoned.' He gestured at the wine cup. 'I've checked that carefully, it's not to blame.'

'So that means somebody came into this tavern,' Claudia said slowly, 'and poisoned his wine or food.' She rose, picked up the wine cup, sniffed at it, ran her finger around it and tasted the faint dregs. 'Nothing but the best,' she muttered. She handed the cup to Apuleius, who scrutinised it again and pronounced the same conclusion.

'Ah well.' Claudia stared down at the corpse. 'What do we do now?'

'I'll get Narcissus the Neat to have a look at it.' Polybius clambered to his feet. 'Some of the lads owe me money,-they can take the corpse to the nearest death house.'

Claudia nodded, and Polybius opened the door for her. She went out on to the landing, down the stairs and into the moon-washed garden. She stood for a while, allowing the cool breeze to fan the heat of her face. Murranus came up behind her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. She turned, stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips.

'Sleep well,' she whispered and tweaked his ear. 'I've talked and listened enough for one evening – tomorrow it's General Aurelian's…'

Claudia and Murranus left just as dawn was breaking. They slipped out of the She Asses and along the dusty trackways leading to the Via Tusculana, which cut through the Severan Wall. Even though the sun had yet to rise, the city had come to life. At the top of the alleyway, Torquatus the Tonsor was busy preparing for business behind his stall under the gnarled sycamore tree, sharpening his razors on what he boasted was a special stone imported from Syria. He was full of chatter about magical stones, herbs and animals. He was already pontificating to a small group that had gathered. On any other occasion Claudia would have stayed to listen. Torquatus was fascinating, a born actor with an inexhaustible fund of stories, but General Aurelian, being an old soldier, would surely be an early riser, and it would be best to see him before the business of the day began.

The streets were filling with merchants as well as water-carriers, sweepers and rakers. The sewer men were out with their wheelbarrows emptying the latrines and cesspits, all shouting good-natured abuse at each other. The grimy cook-shops were open, the portable stoves and ovens being set up at judicious places to attract those who'd risen, as one notice brazenly proclaimed, 'with an empty stomach and a dry throat'. A funeral procession was gathering with professional mourners, priests and an Egyptian choir dressed in blue and scarlet head-dresses. A group of dancers from Spain, ejected from some tavern and desperate to earn money to buy from the water-carriers with their fresh supply, were offering to do a dance for anyone who'd pay them a couple of coins. Linen-clad, shaven-headed priests of some Babylonian god went by, guzzling wine, blowing horns, their long curled hair whirling in the breeze. Scholars, eyes swollen with sleep, staggered out for morning school whilst their mothers stood in the doorways of apartments and houses with brooms of green palms or twigs of tamarisk, heather and myrtle. Already the heralds were busy proclaiming what was on sale in the city, particularly the latest wigs, which could be found in a shop near the Temple of Hercules.

The day's heat was beginning to make itself felt, and by the time they reached the city gate, Claudia's lips and throat were bone dry. She and Murranus stopped at an ale booth to refresh themselves and wipe away the dust with cracked cups of fruit juice. They remained silent, not talking until they were out into the countryside, following the via as it cut through fields of ripening corn. After taking directions from a farmer, they left the road, going along a trackway which wound past cypress, plane and pine trees. On either side meadows and harvest land stretched up to the main gate of Aurelian's villa. Here the porter carefully inspected the seal Claudia carried bearing the imprint of the Empress and, on the reverse, an instruction ordering everyone on their allegiance to help its bearer with her enquiries. The gates were promptly swung open, and Claudia and Murranus entered another world, of pebbled paths, lawns, orchards, small copses of trees, fountains, pools of purity, all carefully laid out on either side of the path which swept up to the atrium of the magnificent villa.

At the house, servants greeted them with bowls of perfumed water so they could wash their hands and faces. Afterwards they were taken through the atrium, a splendid affair with a small lake beneath an opening in the roof, then down a porticoed walk to the inner chambers. Claudia was aware of beautiful stone walls decorated with paintings and frescos in yellow amber, bronze, Damascene copper; pillars of Phrygian marble, doors and lintels inset with malachite and tortoiseshell, ceilings sparkling with gold and precious objects. Everything was cool, fresh and sweet-smelling.

For a while they had to sit in a chamber with a wood-laced ceiling of Lebanese cedar; on the walls beautiful paintings celebrated the triumphs of Ceres, Goddess of Spring. Claudia tapped Murranus on the thigh and put her finger to her lips as a warning to remain silent. She knew that many of these villas, built specially for their owners, often had secret eyelets or gaps where people could eavesdrop on any conversation taking place. Claudia leaned back against the cool marbled wall and closed her eyes. The previous night's sleep had not been good, her mind still tortured by images of Stathylus lying in that filthy alleyway and Theodore sprawled out on the bed, his face twisted in agony. She wanted to be by herself just to make sense of the chaos in her mind, but this meeting was important and she had to prepare herself. She half listened to the sounds of the villa coming to life: servants hurrying by along the corridors and passageways, the distant sound of a flute, the cries of serving girls, the neigh of horses from the stables. A chamberlain brought some bread, grapes and watered wine. Claudia and Murranus ate hungrily, and still they waited. Eventually, after what seemed to be an eternity, an arrogant freedman curtly ordered them to follow him.

He led them deep into the house, to what he called the Chamber of Mysteries, a beautiful room with mosaics on the wall celebrating the life of Dionysius and his travels across the world. General Aurelian was waiting for them almost enthroned on a blue and gold stool. His wife Urbana sat on his right with Cassia next to her, and to his left was a young man with close-cropped auburn hair and a smiling face, clad in a light green tunic belted firmly around the waist. Aurelian looked what he was, a former general, a soldier, a tough, wiry man, white hair straggling down a furrowed face like that of a hunting falcon, a sharp-beaked nose above thin, bloodless lips, and eyes that never seemed to blink. He looked much older than Claudia had expected, and she reckoned that Urbana must be twenty or thirty years his junior.

The General welcomed them in clipped tones and asked if they'd eaten. He hardly bothered to wait for their reply but immediately introduced his son Alexander, muttered that they had already met his lady wife Urbana and the Lady Cassia, whom he dismissed with a flick of his eyes, then turned back smiling to his son. Claudia learned a great deal in those few seconds. The relationship between the General and his good wife was, perhaps, not what it should be, whilst Cassia was good-naturedly tolerated. The General's attention was solely on Alexander, a pleasant-mannered, happy-faced, gentle-eyed boy who gazed adoringly at Murranus and had to be restrained by his father from a spate of questions about the arena and the gladiator's great triumphs there. Instead the General, as if barking orders to his tribunes, listed Murranus' duties.

'Do you understand?' he ended, leaning forward. 'Do you fully understand what I ask?'

'Yes, sir,' Murranus replied. 'I am to be your son's shadow.'

The General's severe face broke into a faint smile. He jabbed his finger at Murranus. 'I like you, man, that's the answer I wanted. Where he goes, you follow, and you're always armed. You've brought your war belt?'

Murranus explained how the General's servants had taken his weapon bundle as soon as he'd entered the house.

'They won't do that again,' the General retorted. 'Where you go, your sword, dagger and club are always with you, and where my son goes, you go as well, be it the baths, the latrines, a swim, the Campus Martius, a ride on a horse, even climbing a tree.'

Murranus again reassured the General that he knew exactly what his duties were. The General stretched as if he'd resolved a great problem.

'And Senator Carinus?' He turned to Claudia, looking her up and down. 'No news about Antonia?'

'No, sir.' Claudia barked back the reply so sharply that Urbana and Cassia lowered their heads to hide their laughter,-beside her Murranus stiffened quickly, a warning to her not to mock the General. Aurelian narrowed his eyes.

'You're only a child,' he muttered, 'a mere slip of a girl, yet the Empress is using you.' He clicked his tongue. 'But that's Helena! She always does what you least expect; she would have made a good general. In fact,' he pulled a face, 'she was,- she advised both her husband and her beloved son.' He added quickly, 'You want to tell me something, girl, don't you?'

'Yes, sir. The Vigiles Muri, the veterans from the Fretenses?'

'Ah, yes.' Aurelian's face grew severe. 'You are to find their killers. A difficult task for a slip of a girl.'

'Another one was murdered last night.'

Aurelian ignored the sharp hiss of surprise from the two women beside him.

'Who?' he exclaimed, hand cupping his ear as if finding it difficult to hear what Claudia was saying.

'Stathylus,' Claudia replied. 'I met him, Secundus and Crispus at a tavern; their funeral club meets in its upper chamber.'

The General nodded, eyes staring hard. 'Then what happened?'

'Stathylus went outside to relieve himself. He was murdered, barbarously, just like the rest.'

For a brief while the General put his face in his hands.

'Murdered!' he exclaimed, lifting his head, 'with an imperial agent close by?'

'We could not save him,' Claudia replied. 'Stathylus brought his own death upon himself. General, it's time you learned the truth.' In sharp, brief sentences she told him what she'd been told the previous evening. Once she'd finished, Aurelian sat, chin cupped in his hand, staring at the floor as if fascinated by the mosaic depicting Mars in triumph. He glanced up.

'And Sccundus and Crispus?' he asked. 'Are they guilty of murder, of deliberately slaying their officer?'

'No, sir.' Claudia shook her head. 'At the time it happened, neither was party to it. Postulus died because of Stathylus, because of the bad blood between them, because Postulus was a drinker, but most of all because of the Golden Maid.'

'If I had known this yesterday,' the old General commented, as if issuing a decree, 'I would have had Stathylus scourged. He would have been fortunate not to end up on a cross. I'll summon those other two here. I have questions for them and they'll be safer in this villa!' The old General recollected who was with him and, turning, whispered an apology to his wife, who'd sat throughout studying Claudia closely. Beside her, Cassia was not as amused or as merry as yesterday, but stony-faced and hard-eyed. Claudia realised that both women were consummate actresses, deferential and welcoming as far as they could be in the presence of the Empress, but here in General Aurelian's villa very much the patrician ladies.