Min's threat echoed in her brain. 'Provoke any further disruption and I'll personally see you regret it.' Did this constitute provocation? Claudia had a feeling Min would construe it that way.
With wings on her ankles, Claudia flew across the open courtyard. She looked left, right, peered ahead. Shit. She had dithered too long. There was no sign of any animal gods. No sign of any drugged prisoners. Damn, damn, damn. Where are you, Sorrel? Where have they taken you?
From the corner of her eye, she caught a shadow. Just a hint, before it ducked backwards to mould itself into the shade of the storehouse wall. She scurried after it.
Nothing.
Then — yes, there it was again. Darting to the left.
As before, the merest hint.
She sped past the windowless store. Hooked to the left. Caught up slightly. Enough to see that the shadow was a man's. Alone. Should she follow him? What about the trio? There he goes. Her sandals skidded on the stone. He's trying to double back. Cut down here.
Racing after him, still undecided, Claudia turned the corner. And cannoned into him.
Too late she saw the sharp swing of the scimitar.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Will you unhand me?' wheezed the shadow, flat upon its back. 'Or do I have to cry rape?'
Claudia blinked. It can't be! 'Orbilio?'
'I used to be, before your kneecap changed all that.' 'What? Oh.' She removed the offending joint and his skin ceased to be grey. 'Marcus Cornelius, what the hell are you doing up here? Last I heard, you were being eaten alive by seven slobbering Amazons.'
'Me? I'm strictly a one-woman man,' he said, but all the same she rather thought he winced.
'You look terrible,' she said, peering closer.
'Thanks.'
'Whey-faced. You need a shave. And your eyes are a particularly unattractive shade of bloodshot.'
'You know how to cheer a man up, don't you? Well, if it's any consolation, my head hurts, too.'
'Classic case of Amazon overdose.'
'I needed them,' he said miserably.
'Only seven? You must be getting old.'
'No, no. I needed them to help me sneak away from the house.'
Claudia felt a bubble burst. Relief? From what? She didn't care how many women he slept with, that pain inside was where she'd jarred herself in falling. Then — slowly — laughter began to rise in her diaphragm. 'You didn't?' No wonder he'd asked for big women!
A similar vibration came from his. 'I bloody did.' He grinned, propping himself up on both elbows. 'What's more,
I was that convincing, dressed in drag, that three erstwhile respectable businessmen propositioned me as I crossed the Forum!'
'Well, I hope you didn't sell yourself too cheap.'
'The whiskers put them off, otherwise I'd have made a mint. In fact, when this thing's over, I'm seriously thinking of changing my career.' He flopped back on to the cobbles and sighed contentedly. 'Alternatively,' he said blissfully, 'I could become a gigolo.'
'You'd starve.'
'Nonsense. I'm already experiencing the effects of women giving me the old once-over.'
'Have you been sniffing those hemp seeds again?'
'One look, and you were all over me, for a start!' He closed his eyes. 'Still are, in fact.'
Ah… As she scrambled off his prostrate form, she thought she heard him mumble 'pity' but she wasn't sure. There was something curious going on inside her body. Heartbeat playing up, funny breathing. Her cheeks must have caught the sun, they were burning, even in the shade of the storehouse wall. Clearly, she thought, I'm out of shape. What else could cause this disruption to her system? She vowed to visit the gymnasium, the minute she returned to Rome.
'I'll do a deal,' Marcus said, brushing down his tunic. 'You don't tell anyone I wear women's clothes at night and I won't tell about how you chased me through the streets and pinned me flat against my pommel.'
'Oh, that's a pommel?'
'Behave yourself.' He grinned again, adjusting the hang of his scimitar and pulling straight his belt. 'Respectable Egyptian maidens don't make advances to the guards. You'll have to restrain yourself until we're both back home in Rome.'
'Who says I intend to leave?' Strange. He was standing three feet away, yet she could still smell his sandalwood unguent as strongly as if he was just three inches from her, and that faint hint of mint upon his breath. Also, the hardness of his muscled torso, the warmth of his flesh felt as though they still pressed against her skin.
'I do,' he said, leaning closer, and suddenly his eyes were smoky dark. 'I know you, Claudia. I know you inside out, and I know that even in the unlikely event that you might be tempted to swap a life of idle luxury for toiling in the fields, your bodyguard will be keen to get away.'
He was aware that Junius was here? Of course! His steward would have put him in the picture. 'You know about the cock-up at the jails, then?' she asked, but since he looked puzzled, Claudia realised he didn't have the full picture after all and explained about the administrative error in the dungeons.
'Admini — ? Error — ? Oh. Yes. Right.' His face lost some of its bounce and, crestfallen, he stuffed a crumpled piece of parchment back inside his tunic.
'Junius won't be unduly keen to get away,' she added. 'He's wangled himself a cushy number here.'
'Only because while my steward lent him some appropriate gear, he appropriated some extra for himself.' Marcus scratched at the stubble on his chin. 'All the same, he will be hot to leg it once he knows the rules.'
'Rules?'
There was a wicked glint in his eye. 'Hadn't you heard?' he said innocently. 'Good Egyptians that they are, the Brothers here practise circumcision.'
'Then it's high time they stopped practising and damn well did it properly.'
Goddammit, he had no right to smell this good. Look at him. Haggard and unshaven, he's deliberately using his masculinity to try and win me over. Tough luck, sunshine! For all your silver tongue and witty speech, don't think I don't know why you're here. You can't fool Claudia Seferius. You want that seat in the Senate House, and see me as a means to win it.
Oh, I sympathise; don't think I don't. You're under house arrest, it's unfair and unjust, and your boss has you by the balls. How best to wriggle off the hook? By wrapping up a tasty little con trick, which you can hand to your boss in return for him dropping those ridiculous trumped-up charges. You're back on track, no harm done — hell, you might even earn yourself some laurels. Fine. Good luck to you. Just find someone else to use as stepping stones.
'I don't air my soiled linens in the street.'
'Excuse me?'
'I said, there's no way I will be a witness at their trial.'
'Have I blacked out or something?' he asked, cocking his head to one side. 'One minute we're laughing and joking, the next you're thrashing like a mustang on a rope and I don't know what the hell you're on about. Whose trial?'
'Min and Mentu's. And I won't be party to it.'
'Claudia, I'm not here to-'
'I'll swear an oath that I encouraged Flavia to join and was so taken with the commune that I decided to bring Junius and Flea along with me for a break.'
'Flea!' He threw up his hands in exasperation. 'Claudia, why in the name of Mars did you cart that wild child out here?'
'Good grief, man, isn't it obvious? To knock her's and Flavia's heads together.'
'Right.' His tone said that Orbilio didn't believe it for a second.
Too bad.
Long before Claudia had become aware that Flavia was the instigating force behind the kidnap — in fact, the instant she discovered the boy messenger was actually a girl — she knew there was no way she would allow Flea to return to living off the streets. The danger was too great, and Claudia knew — by heaven, she did — because she'd recognised in Flea a mirror image of herself ten years back down the line. Therefore if, by some crazy chance, it was true that the Unlovable One had actually found a friend in the Untameable One and (more crazy still) those feelings of friendship were reciprocated, then there was no reason Flea could not find a niche in Flavia's household, and consequently in Flavia's life.