Manion laughed. 'You'll get used to it.'
'Which? Walking bow-legged or a lack of circulation to the essentials?'
'Don't worry. By the time the bruises on your face have faded, you'll be walking normally again, and until then, Pretty Boy, no priestess in her right mind is going to pick you over the others. Not unless she wants to wake up with nightmares.'
'Thanks, but speaking of right minds, do you have a rational explanation for scrabbling around in the grass on your hands and knees in the rain?'
'I dropped my ring while we were being herded in for — what did they have the cheek to call it?' He grinned. 'The Purification Bath? Besides, this is only light drizzle.'
Pitching into the search, Orbilio found nothing remarkable to note about Manion's appearance. Average height, average build, eyes neither green nor blue. The sort of looks no one remembers, he thought absently. From the distance there came a rumble of thunder.
'Ah,' he said, fumbling beneath the wooden steps. 'Think I might've found something. Here.'
He rubbed the silver band on his shirt then tossed it across. But not before he'd noticed the engraving of an exquisitely worked scorpion. Complete with stinger, ready to strike.
'Thanks, Pretty Boy.' Manion slipped the ring on his finger and clapped Marcus on the back. 'I owe you one.'
He was laughing to himself as he sauntered off.
Orbilio forgot about the problems of tight pants.
Twelve
The rain had eased by the time Mavor's expert fingers began massaging Claudia's neck and shoulders with oils of fennel, thyme, cypress and marjoram, but thunder still growled round distant valleys. Clouds rolled in lower, and heavy. Typical midsummer storms, Claudia mused. But unlike Roman storms that trapped the heat and intensified the humidity, the temperature in this part of Gaul remained pleasantly temperate. Its proximity to the sea, she supposed.
Closing her eyes as Mavor kneaded and squeezed, her mind travelled away from these rolling, wooded hills fed by thousands of streams to the ocean that encircled the world. Bedevilled by whirlpools and demons, giant fishes and monsters, this watery universe was ruled by Oceanus the Titan, but what was this old man's parentage?
From the Darkness sprang Chaos, and from the union between them, Day and Air were created. From Day and Air, Mother Earth and the Sea were then born, and from Mother Earth and Air came forth the Titans. But so, too, did Anger, Strife, Vengeance and Fear, but always, yes always, it came back to Mother Earth. To the priestesses who preached peace through the worship of nature. But her grandchild — Oceanus's daughter — was none other than Nemesis, and Oceanus's own granddaughter was Venus herself. Venus, that oh-so-beau-tiful goddess of love, who rose from the ocean's foam surrounded by sparrows and doves, while the HundredHanded were universally beautiful and Mavor was the Priestess of the Birds 'I'm sorry, my dear, did I wake you?'
'No, no,' Claudia lied. 'Just drifting.'
Mavor took a step back and tapped her lip with her finger.
'I can't feel any change in you,' she said thoughtfully. 'Maybe I'll try a different treatment.'
'It's only been three days,' Claudia reminded her.
'Yes, but you should be showing some signs of improvement by now.'
'That pain in the neck seems to be under control.'
If Clytie's killer was among the male slaves, Orbilio would soon root him out.
'Possibly,' Mavor said, 'but my fingers aren't sensing a difference, suggesting your relief is merely psychological.'
When she reached up to pluck a bunch of downy wormwood hanging from a hook in the ceiling, the action accentuated the generous curve of her breasts. She laid the leaves on the hot stove with a sensuality she was probably unaware of.
'I think we should try moxibustion.'
'Does that have any connection with the word combustion?' Claudia asked warily.
'It does.'
'Then I think maybe we shouldn't try that.'
Because inventing a medical condition was one thing. Having it treated with burns was another.
'Nonsense.' A surprisingly firm hand pinned Claudia to the table. 'This will do your poor neck the world of good.'
'A noose would be quicker.'
And a damn sight more pleasant. No wonder wormwood deterred lice and beetles!
Mavor laughed. 'Don't tell me you'd rather suffer a painful spine than endure a tiny little unpleasant whiff! Now lie still, please. I want the heat to penetrate into your bones.'
Bones? It was penetrating the bloody table.
'Your boyfriend has a very high opinion of you,' Claudia said. 'Although not quite as high as the one he has of himself — are you all right?'
'The, er, oils on my fingers. Made the pot slip.' As she bent down to pick up the shards of the broken jar, there was a look of alarm — even panic — on Mavor's face, which she concealed, but not quickly enough. 'What did he say?' She tried to make the question sound casual.
'Basically that you were good in bed.'
'H-he said that?' Alarm was replaced by confusion.
'Not very gentlemanly conduct, I agree, but he also insisted that a man's hands are better suited to massage than a woman's, and suggested I speak to you for confirmation.'
Mavor let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. 'Oh, you mean Swarbric'
Claudia recognized that sigh. She had let out a similar one, when he'd told her it was Ribolo…
'You may think it's because he wants to rub his hands over naked ladies, but actually he does have a point. I wouldn't disagree that men make better masseurs.' Mavor lifted the wormwood and replaced it with a new batch of heated leaves. 'And he blooming well ought to speak highly of me. I fixed his shoulder when it dislocated earlier this year, though between you and me, he yelped like a girl.'
The usual consequence of adding two and two together in a hurry, Claudia thought. Swarbric had been amused, because she'd used time as an excuse to leave, when the sun was patently obscured by the clouds. And when he said Mavor was good, he meant she was good — in her professional capacity.
Damn.
'Such an injury must need regular treatment,' she pointed out.
'Not at all.' Mavor pressed down lightly on the warm leaves. 'Luckily, I was able to treat the joint within minutes of the accident occurring and could keep him swaddled like a baby until the risk of ligament damage passed. That prevented any recurrence. Swarbric's as fit as a flea.'
Then why were you sneaking down to his hut? Why the alarm when I mention the word boyfriend? Why the relief when you know it's only Swarbric?
I know, the note on Claudia's table had read. I just cannot decide who to tell
Outside, the thunder rumbled that little bit closer.
'How well did you know Clytie?' she asked.
This time the reaction was no less pronounced. Except the emotion was cold rather than hot.
'Hardly at all,' Mavor said stiffly. 'She was still learning plant lore, which, on account of its complex medicinal aspect, takes a long time to master.'
'The birds and the bees come along later, then?'
The joke wasn't enough to soften the pinch to her sensuous lips. 'You will have to excuse me,' she said briskly. 'It's the solstice tomorrow and much preparation needs to be done for the ceremonies, but I need you to remain perfectly still to allow the after-effects of my manipulation to settle.' She notched a mark on a candle. 'Then I'd like you back here at dusk, please, so I can assess whether there's any change.'
There was change. Claudia's neck had never felt so stiff or uncomfortable.
'Before you go,' she said, 'as the Bird Priestess, does your protection extend to ravens as well?'
When Mavor opened the door, the flames on the candles angled forty-five degrees. 'My dear, I am responsible for all mother nature's feathered creatures.'