The Camensis was a little wooded valley on the south side of the hill, consisting of a quiet shady grove, a spring and a shrine to the water nymphs who guarded it. But talk about a double-edged sword! Anyone hoping to stake out the area would be spotted instantly by the kidnappers, while the gang themselves would also stand out a mile!
Claudia drummed her fingers on the marble bench. 'This conundrum calls for subtlety and disguise,' she told Junius. The sudden appearance of a dozen heavies in a tiny woodland grove was hardly the answer! Three, maybe four men at the most to spring a trap. 'Hire a litter, wrap yourself inside a toga and-'
'Madam!' The young Gaul's eyes popped out of their sockets. 'I'm a slave! If I'm caught wearing the toga, I'll be-'
'Junius.' Patiently Claudia laid down the bowl of dates. 'Junius, try looking at this the other way round. Not what might happen to you if you're caught impersonating a Roman citizen. Rather what I'll do to you if you don't.'
She watched his Adam's apple gulp into obedience.
'Disguised as the spoiled son of a rich merchant,' her eyes defied him to so much as wince, 'you picnic beside the spring. You take a couple of girls, you sing, you play the lyre, you fool around a bit-'
'I can't do that.'
Why not? You're young. Twenty, twenty-one. But it was a funny thing about this Gaul. Claudia had never actually seen him look at a girl since she'd promoted him to head her escort. His eyes were always fixed firmly on his mistress, intense and rarely blinking. Which meant, she supposed, that he was either an extremely conscientious employee — or was otherwise inclined!
'Junius, if we're to get Flavia back alive, we have to make this look authentic. Since it's more than likely the gang are familiar with Marcellus and his family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances, you, as head of my bodyguard, will almost certainly be recognised.' Unless you go disguised as a rich man's brat with time on his hands, when your conduct would pass undisputed. 'Hire yourself a couple of whores — rent boys if you prefer — only for gods' sake, act the part. You're rich, you're idle, vulgar, brash. Draw attention to your profligacy, play on it. The more ostentatious your behaviour, the less anyone will suspect you're undercover.'
'Very good, madam.' His departing shuffle sounded sulky, but she knew he'd follow her instructions to the letter.
Claudia turned to the bruisers holding the ragamuffin prisoner. 'Am I imagining this,' she asked, 'or can I smell rose petals and lilies in my garden?'
The henchmen sniffed. 'I can't smell no flowers,' one said.
'Me neither,' replied the other.
'Then we are faced with the conclusion that something is masking the scent.' Claudia jerked her thumb towards the urchin. 'Take him to the bath room and don't spare the pumice stone!'
'Oi!' The voice was shrill in protest. 'You can't keep me here, I'm innocent!'
'Did I say you weren't?' She smiled. Deliver a message and then run off like quicksilver? You might not share a rat-hole with the gang, but you're in it up to your grubby neck, sunshine! Owing to the tight time-scale, interrogation would have to be postponed — but that was no reason to bring the smell of the sewers indoors! 'I am merely extending hospitality to a welcome guest,' she said silkily.
'Fuck you!'
'Oh, and be sure to wash his mouth out while you're at it,' she trilled over her shoulder. Sixteen years old and if this was his first introduction to a sponge, there'd be two days' hard scrubbing ahead!
'Hey!' Suddenly loud masculine voices filled the atrium. 'Hey, you! Come back here!'
From the corner of her eye, Claudia saw a flash of something brown and ragged hurtle past, saw him dive through the vestibule door. Dammit, I don't have time for this! She raced after the urchin, currently wrestling with the janitor. Behind, hobnailed boots echoed on the mosaic as they thundered to catch up. Claudia pitched in to help the troubled doorman. A hand lashed out like a cobra, and in the next instant both the oik and Claudia's bracelet were flying through the door.
Shit!
Bathed in summer sunshine, the streets were busier than ever. Boneworkers hawked counters, spindles and needles from trays round their necks, sackmakers praised their own seams and a water carrier sneakily filled his jugs from the sacred fountain on the corner while the warden turned his back. Claudia noted the progress of the tousled mop as it darted in and out of the shoppers. He was lithe, slim and supple, this youthful felon, but he had yet to understand that he was no match for a woman intent on retrieving a bangle set with pearls the size of ladybirds! Vaulting over a crate of clucking pullets and ducking beneath a bale of hemp, Claudia kept pace. Clouds of dust and feathers billowed in her wake, but she had no doubt she'd catch him — and her thick gold bangle!
Deftly he slipped down a sidestreet, and mentally Claudia punched the air. This was her cabbage patch this boy was on, and she knew every little sprout and floret! Swerving down the next alleyway, between the leatherworker's shop and the toy seller's, Claudia stuck out her foot.
'Oh, dear, you've tripped!'
Hobby horses, whipping tops, hoops and rattles went flying to all points of the compass as the urchin sprawled headlong over the counter, spewing out a tirade of filth matched only by that of the toy seller.
'I object to being robbed,' Claudia told the squirming youth as she hauled him off the counter by the scruff of his grimy tunic. 'I object to being lied to, and I object to foul language being used inside my house.' She jerked him round and slammed him hard against the wooden shutter of the shopfront, finding the crunch of his teeth under the impact eminently rewarding. 'But most of all, I object to the obstruction of justice when a young girl's life is in danger.'
'Please! Please, miss.' The street Arab's words rolled into a gabble. 'Here's your bracelet back, don't turn me in, only I need the money, miss, for me baby sister. She's very sick, I need to pay a doctor.'
'Nice try.' Claudia smiled approvingly at the trembling lower lip, the catch in the voice. 'Unfortunately, you need to practise those tears, and you somewhat overdid the wheedle.' She grabbed a handful of tunic from his chest and bunched it in her fist. 'Come along!'
'Never!' With a sudden twist, the boy squirted free, leaving Claudia clutching nothing more substantial than a lump of filthy wool. Bugger! Just when she'd got her breath back, too — and dammit he still had her bangle set with pearls!
Pie sellers and spice dealers goggled at the frantic chase, while those too slow to move out of the way found their toes crushed or else took to juggling their wares. The alleyways rang with shouts of encouragement, curses, howls of protests and cheers as the young woman whose long, dark tresses billowed out behind her snaked and slithered after a smelly, foul-mouthed youth.
What the hell have I got myself into this time? Claudia wheezed, charging through alternating smells of wood and molten copper, aniseed and paint. I'm so broke, I couldn't pay the ransom were my own life at stake, yet here I am, playing jackals and hounds through the mean backstreets of Rome to safeguard the life of a girl I don't even bloody like!
She hurdled over a box of squirming octopus and squid and ducked underneath a line of washing. Except, she thought, dancing out of the way of a small, black oinking piglet, personalities don't come into this. We're talking pond scum holding a fifteen-year-old to ransom, who foolishly imagine extortion is something they can get away with. They wish!