On the small writing tablet beside Claudia's bed, a metal stylus carefully engraved two words in the soft yellow wax.
I know.
Tempting as it was to rifle through the clothes chests and belongings, the author of the note resisted the urge. There was plenty of time yet, and the cross-eyed, blue-eyed dark Egyptian fiend that protected them with its bared fangs and arched back tended to give weight to the argument.
The door closed with barely a whisper.
Eight
Declining Fearn's offer to hang around the slave auction, Claudia opted for watching Marcus get snapped up by Dora then returning to the College to investigate Clytie's death. There were several good motives propelling that action, the most obvious being that if Beth was right and this was some sick copycat, it was vital to track him down before he claimed another victim. Conversely, should Clytie have been killed for a reason, the quicker Claudia picked up the spoor before the trail cooled completely, then so much the better. Admittedly, after three months, the spoor would have lost much (if not all) of its scent, but at the back of her mind there was another case to be made for solving this murder and taking the next boat back to Rome.
Dammit, she really must cover her head next time she went out, because the sun was clearly stronger than she had thought. Janus in heaven, of course her heart pounded like a kettledrum when she saw him. What criminal's wouldn't, when reduced to beg favours of the Security Police? And of course her breath would have been coming quick and shallow. In that steam, how could it not? And good gracious, the tightness in her chest was what any young woman would have experienced, faced with that amount of raw naked masculine muscle.
No, no. Definitely time to solve Clytie's murder and bugger off back to Rome, she decided, skipping down the wooden steps towards the caves. Because to feel that level of sympathy for the very man who was intent on stepping into the Senate on the back of her felonies meant heatstroke was deceptively potent. Though now she thought about it, and dammit knowing he'd be a prize asset to the College, she really ought to have hung a higher price tag round
Orbilio's neck. The derisory little sum that she'd pocketed in the end would barely cover her outstanding account at the bloody cobbler's …
Inside the cave, it was cool but not dark. Lamps inset in niches hacked out of the stone lit the interior as brightly as noon, and the scent of the roses and honeysuckle that decked the entrance mingled with the bunches of healing herbs that hung from the roof and whose fragrance had been released by a light crushing of leaves between fingertips. Claudia helped herself to a ladle of water from the stone basin that was fed by the constant trickle from the rock, and was just about to pour herself a second when she realized that the sound she'd assumed to be part of the spring was actually the sound of weeping.
The acoustics inside the cave were confusing, and it took a moment before she realized that the sobs came from outside, where the rocks at the entrance kicked back an echo.
'Oh sweet Janus!'
The woman lay on the ground where she had fallen, her fringed skirt up over her knees, the bruise on her shin already swollen and angry. And the reason she couldn't get up by herself was because she was heavily pregnant.
'Don't move.' Claudia scrambled over the rocks towards her. 'Stay right where you are, I'll go and get help, I just need to make sure you're all right first.'
'Go away,' she sobbed, pushing Claudia away. 'Leave me alone.'
'I certainly will not.'
Apart from the banged shin, there appeared to be no other damage and her stomach lurched, because that meant it was internal.
'Where were you when you fell?' she asked. Dammit, these boulders were huge.
'I didn't slip,' the Gaulish girl blubbered. 'I came here to be alone, so go away and leave me in peace.'
'My dear woman, if I thought you were in peace, I'd be gone before you could blink. But.' Claudia made herself comfortable on the ground next to her. 'Since you've gone to a lot of trouble to crawl into this space, curled yourself up like an animal and are obviously intent on creating a water course that not only makes the one inside the cave look like a tap-drip but will probably throw Gurdo out of a job in the process, I'm sticking to you like a wart until you tell me the problem.'
The smile was feeble, but it was a smile nevertheless.
'See for yourself,' she said, handing over a crumpled piece of parchment.
Claudia straightened it out the best that she could, and although tears and ink were not the best of companions, she eventually deciphered the gist.
While you let your horse starve, someone else is bringing him oats.
'Is that it?' She ripped the note into shreds and threw them into the air. 'You're risking your baby, your health and your happiness on someone else's resentment and jealousy?'
The girl blinked. 'You — you don't think it's true, then?'
Claudia had absolutely no idea whether she was married to a saint or a scoundrel, but she did know that an atmosphere of mistrust and anxiety isn't the best start to a newborn life.
'Mischief-making, pure and simple,' she said crisply. 'My advice is to go home and forget it.'
'But suppose it is true? Suppose he has been-'
'Does your husband spend a lot of time preening himself?'
The woman's head shook tentatively. 'N-no.'
'Is he habitually late? Does he enjoy humiliating people? Is he reckless, feckless, unreliable and ruthless?'
'My Borrix?'
'There you are, then.'
It didn't follow, of course, that nice boys didn't stray. But serial adulterers followed a tediously consistent pattern and since 'her Borrix' didn't fit the profile, Claudia had been taking no risk. Whereas the mother-to-be had been reassured beyond measure.
'Thank you,' she gushed. 'Oh, thank you so much.'
Drawing the line at having her hands smothered in kisses, Claudia helped the girl to her feet. 'Come on, I'll give you a hand over these rocks, and then I suggest you and your Borrix take a stroll round the village, arm in arm so everyone can see you're devoted. Especially the author of that spiteful missive.'
Spurned lover, jealous mother-in-law, barren neighbour filled with resentment, who knows?
'How can I ever thank you?' the girl sniffed.
'By leaving before you give birth at my feet,' Claudia laughed, but as she watched her waddle off, the fringe of her skirt swinging jauntily, she was aware that the laughter was false. Seeing the woman curled up like that had given Claudia quite a shock. The Clytie factor, she supposed, and again she was struck by the close link between beauty and tragedy. For the birds still sang and the sun still shone. And the seasons continued to turn Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two sets of footsteps approaching from opposite directions.
'Sarra!' Pod's voice contained pleasure as well as surprise. 'Looking for Gurdo? He's away collecting his herbs this time of a day. You'd best give him an hour.'
Behind the boulders, Claudia watched a girl of the same age as the tousle-haired elf smile coyly back. Thanks to the acoustics, every word carried clearly.
'I wasn't looking for Gurdo,' Sarra said. 'I… was just taking a walk.'
Not the most convincing of liars, Claudia thought, as another blushing exchange passed between them. Either she expected to bump into the young woodsman or Sarra kept passing this way until she did.
'I was hoping to pick a few mallow to go with these,' she murmured, indicating the spray of pure white dog roses she held in her hand. 'But I can't seem to find any.'