Stone Cold

'Your scribe knew a lot of men who would pay handsomely for tender young flesh.'

Heaven knows how. Orbilio hadn't had a single bite from the perverted requests he'd put out. Perhaps it was some secret club? More likely, he thought, he hadn't been in town long enough to be trusted. Paedophiles operate in stealth, but, more importantly, they never rush what they're doing.

'For him, the boatbuilder and the rest of the gang,' he told the Governor, 'it was purely a business transaction.'

'Be interesting to see how highly they value their profits on the long haul to Rome. How many sesterces being paraded through the streets is worth, when garbage and dog shit are thrown in their faces, and even more interesting to see how far their ill-gotten gains take 'em during a protracted and painful execution, what?'

Did torturing the torturers make it right? Hell, Orbilio didn't have seven-year-old granddaughters. Who was he to judge?

'Thanks to Zina following her stepfather the other night, and seeing coins change hands outside the Black Boar, she was able to sneak in and determine the situation.'

'Bastards.' The Governor all but spat. 'Don't suppose y'know what happened to the poor little sods who had gone before her, do you?'

'No, sir, but we can guess.' He'd seen for himself the ease with which Rintox's throat had been cut. That kind of handiwork didn't come without practice.

'Well, good work anyway. Both of you!' The Governor rubbed his jowls thoughtfully. 'Y'know, we could use a chap of your calibre in Santonum. Seen your record, lad. Nigh on a hundred per cent detection rate, what? I tell you, Aquitania needs men like you.'

'I, um…'

'I'm serious, Marcus. The Security Police has no representation here. Reporting directly to me, you'd pick your own men, set up your own team and run the whole damn shooting match yourself. What d'you say?'

Orbilio drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Claudia didn't want him. His wife had divorced him for a sea captain in Lusitania. Why go home? Why slog his guts out for a boss who didn't appreciate him, among a family who despised his choice of career?

'I'll certainly give it my serious consideration, sir.'

'Can't imagine why you don't jump at the chance.' The Governor grinned. 'Short winters ain't to be sniffed at, there's excellent hunting to be had in the forests and, take my word for it, lad, these Santon women know how to keep a chap warm at night.'

As Orbilio's fist made a salute he was hardly aware of, he wondered why he wasn't biting the Governor's hand off. Head of the Security Police in the steadily rising province of Aquitania while still a month short of his twenty-eighth birthday was not to be sneezed at. All the same, there were more pressing matters right now.

'Zina?' he called up from outside. 'Are you home?'

He was pretty sure she'd taken herself home after her stepfather's arrest. Her poor mother would be riddled with guilt not only for harbouring a monster, but living off the proceeds of his evil trade. But Black Eyes still hadn't grasped that she wasn't Marcus-my-lord's woman, and, sure enough, as he bounded up the stairs, he smelled bacon with lentils cooking on the stove, along with the scent of fresh crusty bread.

'Zina, the Governor wants to-'

It was as far as he got. As he pushed open the door, once again Orbilio's world exploded in a million white stars.

Twenty-Four

'Mummy, why is it you can say something to one person and everyone laughs, then when you say it to someone else, they burst into tears and run off?'

Stella looked down into the puzzled eyes of her middle daughter and cupped her little round face between her hands. 'Luci, Luci, Luci. What horrible mischief have you been making this time?'

'It's not my fault,' the child protested. 'Blame Auntie Marcia! I was just handing over my spelling list, when one of her maids came-'

'Why were you giving your spelling list to your aunt?' 'Because she always demands to see our letters and numbers, silly! Anyway, this slave comes rushing in to say that the Governor's wife was seen in town wearing an…' Her face screwed up in the struggle to remember the long word, an identical robe to the one Auntie Marcia wore to the banquet. The red one.'

Stella sighed. 'I am obviously going to have to have another word with your aunt. She can't keep interfering like this, but go on. The Governor's wife copied her gown and Marcia was furious.'

'No!' Little blonde curls shook vigorously. 'You're not listening, are you? Auntie Marcia wasn't cross. She tipped her head back, like this. "Hardly identical" she said, and she sniffed. "Mine's half the size round the hips!" And that's when everyone burst out laughing.'

'Luci, where is this leading, please?'

'Well, when I said the same thing to the cupbearer's daughter just now, how her friend was wearing an identical tunic only a lot smaller, she burst into tears.'

'I see.' Stella brushed a wayward strand out of her daughter's eyes. 'I suppose it didn't occur to you that it might be rather cruel to poke fun at that little girl?'

'But she's just as fat as the Governor's wife! Fatter!

'That might well be true.' Mother kneeled down to look daughter in the face. 'But it strikes me that that little girl doesn't like being fat, and that you've made her even more self-conscious about her weight than before.'

'I wondered about that,' Luci said thoughtfully. 'Because when she started to grizzle, it reminded me of something Koros said while they were all laughing about the Governor's wife. That inside every fat person there's a thin one crying to get out, and so that's what I said to that girl just now. I asked her if that's why she was crying.'

'Well, I apologize, darling. That was very sweet of you.' Stella ruffled her daughter's head. 'What did the little girl say to that?'

'She said yes, so I repeated what Auntie Marcia replied to Koros. I said, "Only the one?" And that's when she ran off.'

Stella groaned. 'We'll talk about this later,' she said, burying her head in her hands. 'I really don't have the energy right now, Luci. You run back to the villa, there's a good girl, and keep to the path like I told you.'

'All right, but you won't forget you promised to play butterflies, will you, Mummy?' She picked up the hem of her little pink robe and made wings, which she flapped as she ran round in a circle.

'No, darling, I haven't forgotten.'

'But you forgot to put your wedding band on.'

'Eek, I've spawned a monster!' Stella grabbed her daughter and tickled her ribs. 'She has the face of an angel but, truly, the eyes of a hawk!' Eventually, she released the giggling child and they both collapsed on the grass, panting. 'I didn't forget to wear my wedding band.' She pulled on the leather thong that hung around her neck. 'I'm going to sacrifice it.'

She opened the tiny drawstring sack on the end of the necklace and tipped the ring into the palm of her hand. A flurry of fragrant petals fluttered on top of it.

'Is that why you came down here?' Huge blue eyes gazed round the canyon from which a small pool seeped water from a fissure in the rock. Lining the sides of the ravine, red valerian wafted its scent on the sticky autumn breeze as jackdaws cawed and lizards darted in and out of the crevices.

'See this?' Stella picked a small purple flower spike out of the fragrant assortment. 'Hyssop purifies the waters into which I drop the ring. Thyme adds strength to my prayers-'