'There seems something vaguely familiar about the tilt of the head,' he murmured, running his hand over Saturn's sickle and reaping hook. 'That stocky body and bull neck
'The head groom,' Claudia said. Very well. Let's play it your way, wolf-man. She sat down on a wooden bench over which chamomile had been planted to make a fragrant seat. 'I suppose you know that Marcia is organizing another manhunt in the morning and that she means to trap the Scarecrow one way or another?'
'She's put Tarbel in charge this time,' Marcus said, settling on the grass at her feet. 'And something tells me he's not the type to accept defeat.'
'That's why you have to stop it from going ahead.'
He plucked a blade and began to chew. 'I would only intervene,' he said slowly, 'provided I had bloody good reason.'
Claudia selected a ripe, velvety peach from an overhanging branch and tossed it to him, then plucked another one for herself. 'The problem as I see it,' she said, 'is that these girls were abducted without any sign of a struggle, which made me wonder whether this was actually true. Had the search party been looking in the right places, I asked myself, and would they recognize signs of violence if they saw them? The Santons are untravelled-'
'Untravelled doesn't mean stupid. These people understand the land better than anyone else, and if there had been a struggle, believe me, they'd know it,' Marcus said, wiping the juice off his chin. 'They're expert huntsmen who read the forest like you read the daily gossip sheet-'
'One should always keep abreast of current affairs.'
Orbilio leaned back, absorbing his weight on his elbows. 'Most people take that to mean politics, not who's cheating on whom.'
She tossed the peach stone over the hedge. 'A lot of hard work goes into the production and distribution of those sheets. I feel it only fair that their efforts are supported.'
'And I always thought philanthropy began with an "f",' he murmured, stretching out on the grass and folding his hands behind his head.
'That aside,' she sniffed, 'and as much as it grieves me to admit it, I actually arrived at the same conclusion. No violence took place.'
'That isn't necessarily the case,' Marcus said, closing his eyes against the harsh glare of the sun. 'I can think of several methods just off the top of my head, but go on.'
'Well, it occurs to me that everyone for miles around has heard of the Scarecrow. In fact, I would go so far as to say his reputation is notorious.'
'It's human nature for people to be frightened of things they don't understand.'
'Precisely. So how come these girls didn't scream or run off at the first flutter of wingbeats in the trees? Even if they believed the local superstition that he was Death himself, they wouldn't just walk calmly up to him. But! Assuming all five were stupid enough to do just that, once they got close, they'd quickly tell the difference between the Guardian of their Souls and a smelly individual who lives rough in the woods. I mean, imagine his teeth.'
One lazy eye opened. 'I'd rather not.'
'Which brings me back to my original point: why no blood? Why no signs of a struggle?'
Marcus sat up and hugged his knees. 'There are only two possible reasons,' he said. 'One, the killer is a professional, a man who has been trained to move quietly and kill cleanly, and the second-'
'It's someone the women trusted. Exactly.' Claudia paused. 'Which means whoever is abducting these girls, it isn't the Scarecrow.' And if Orbilio didn't stop tomorrow's manhunt, another victim would be added to the mounting list of innocents… 'We need to find the Scarecrow before Tarbel,' she said.
He flopped back on to the grass with a groan. 'I do not believe it,' he told the sky. 'Marcia's people have spent months trying to flush this elusive creature out of the woods, yet milady here thinks she can do it in… yes, just how long do you think it will take you?'
'A day.'
'Are you sure you don't mean half a day? An hour? Twenty-five minutes?'
'Sarcasm is beneath you and so, incidentally, is a long, black, wriggly thing that seems intent on crawling inside your tunic.'
Orbilio jumped up and brushed the earwig away. 'Tomorrow is the Emperor's birthday. I might be able to persuade Marcia to show a bit of respect on that score, but she won't hold back for long. That woman eats, drinks and breathes glory and I'll bet Hor is already pencilling out the victorious scene on the east wall of her tomb.'
'Then he'd better wheel out the whitewash,' Claudia said. 'But in order to beat Tarbel to the Scarecrow, there's something I need you to do.'
'I had a feeling there would be.'
'Nonsense. Everyone knows the Security Police don't have feelings! Now, pay attention, Marcus. Your job is to put that manly baritone of yours to good use, shouting out orders as loud as you can and repeating them endlessly, to make sure the Scarecrow gets to hear about the impending manhunt.'
'I'm so glad my military training has some purpose.'
Claudia snorted his cynicism aside. 'It's absolutely crucial that our woodsman understands the strength of the contingent set to track him down and the fact that, this time, Rome is behind the manhunt.'
'You don't think he might become a teeny bit suspicious about the lack of legionaries clumping about?'
'Frightened men don't think logically,' she said. 'Just make sure you bark out your orders round the perimeter, so there's no chance of the Scarecrow not hearing.'
'Yes, ma'am.' He saluted. 'Anything else, ma'am?'
Her retort was cut short by the arrival of a hired courier, jogging down the path at a professional trot. 'Message for Master Marcus Cornelius Orbilio.' He handed over the letter. 'Will there be a reply?'
Claudia recognized the seal as he broke it. It was his own.
'Yes,' he said, tipping the runner with a coin from the bronze purse round his wrist. 'Tell her I'm coming at once.' Orbilio turned to Claudia. 'I've got to go,' he said.
'Zina?'
'The Scarecrow will have to wait,' he said, nodding. 'This can't.'
'It's about the child, I suppose?'
'Yep.'
She watched him race back to the villa. Dammit, the lecherous bastard could at least have lied.
'Zina's found her,' he shouted.
A lot of things reassembled themselves in Claudia's innards.
'Wait!' she yelled, although for some reason she was quite out of breath. 'Marcus, wait! I need to borrow that doll!'
Among the items that had rearranged themselves was another piece of the puzzle. With icy clarity, she knew exactly why the Scarecrow was hanging around in these woods…
As it happened, the Scarecrow wasn't in the woods.
For some reason, the middle-aged man in the purple-striped tunic had stopped bringing the children down to the meadow next to the paddock. Presumably he felt the grass was too long for racing about in, so he'd taken to playing with them at a spot by a bend in the river. One of the many branches that separated from, and then rejoined, the Carent, this stretch was known locally as the Solora, after the water spirit who inhabited it. Often, the lean, leathery man would bring them here to skinny dip first thing in the morning, or for a picnic of cheeses and chestnuts with hot damson pastries before they were packed off to bed.
It hadn't been easy to get close to the wide, open bank where they played, but the Scarecrow had found that by arriving early then concealing himself under an elderberry bush and waiting, often for hours, his patience was rewarded. From time to time, the man would scan the woods behind with narrowed, soldier's eyes, as though expecting to see someone, or something. But once he had satisfied himself that they were alone, he would throw himself wholeheartedly into whatever activity the children were engaged in, be it watching fish, stamping the ground to drive tiny frogs into the reeds, feeding the ducks or gasping at snakes underwater.