by Marilyn Todd
None at all.
Tying a rope round the stone that she’d rolled to the edge, Vorda picked up the rock and threw it into the pool. Her body did not make so much as a splash.
Thirteen
‘Face towels!’
‘Skin softeners!’
‘Gifts for the river god!’
This could have been Mercurium yesterday, such was the crush round the hot springs. The instant Claudia’s gig passed through the archway, vendors in braided tunics and long pointy shoes descended like blowflies on a carcase, offering the new arrivals everything from hotel rooms to pancakes to castor-oil purges (guaranteed to work in less than two hours) and swamping them with ointments and amulets.
‘Not sure I’d have come, if I’d realized you were bringing that witch along with you,’ Rex muttered, pushing through the clamour to help Claudia dismount.
‘She’s my mother-in-law. I could hardly refuse.’
‘Not Larentia. Her.’
He pointed to where Candace was shaking the creases from her embroidered robe and dazzling the eyes of the traders with the number of gold bands clamped to her skin. Never a smile, Claudia noticed. At least not one that ever made the journey up to her eyes. Always watchful and catlike. Was it because our lovely walker of winds was cold and calculating through to her marrow? Claudia followed her slow, feline glance in Darius’s direction. Or was the sorceress simply cautious?
‘You’d think the bitch would have realized she’s caused enough trouble,’ Rex was expounding.
Flanked by her Hebrew servants, Judith and Ezekiel, Candace swept off to the bath house as though she owned the establishment, and from the corner of her eye Claudia noticed that, although Darius was helping Larentia down from the gig with solicitous chitchat, his expression was harder than granite as his eyes followed the trio inside. So then, he hadn’t missed that evaluating glance? But then everything happened at the hot springs, she reflected. Everything happened here…
‘By trouble you mean…?’
‘Raising the dead.’ Rex’s military bearing cleaved a path through the hawkers. ‘Contacting the likes of our spouses is one thing, but where does it lead? Will we end up talking to shopkeepers next? Suppose she conjures up ghosts of men slain on the battlefield? What then, eh? Are we going to see headless Dacians prancing round? Let sleeping dogs lie, that’s what I say, but no. Not that witch. It’s the only reason she’s come to the thermal springs.’
‘To allow the dead a mud bath and massage?’
His mouth twisted politely at Claudia’s joke, but Rex’s hobby horse was off on a gallop. ‘They call this place Lavernium, meaning Underworld. See the river that gushes out of the rocks over there?’
Claudia could hardly miss it. Hot and steaming, it reeked of sulphur.
‘Peasants used to think it was an entrance to Hades, and mark my words, that’s what’s brought that black-hearted witch out here today. She’s looking to get in touch with the dead through that gateway, and you want to watch your back with her.’ He wagged a forceful finger as he marched off. ‘That woman’s trouble.’
‘I, um, I’m afraid my father gets rather carried away sometimes.’
Claudia spun round and found herself looking into the face of a man who had the word ‘weak’ all but tattooed on his forehead. Fair hair turning to ginger didn’t help, nor did pale eyelashes, a pallid complexion or the soft line to his chin, but many men had overcome such disadvantages and gone on to become consuls, magistrates, legates and kings.
‘Are you in the habit of apologizing for your father?’ she asked Hadrian.
Never complain and never explain was the imperial armed force’s motto. She imagined Rex would rather fall on his sword than have his son mop up after him.
‘Well, I…er…I thought his observations were rather harsh,’ Hadrian said, picking an imaginary hair off his spotlessly clean, zealously pressed, obsessively draped toga. ‘In view of Candace’s talents, I mean. It’s, um, well, it’s not everyone who can summon the spirits, is it?’
‘Perhaps he’s worried she’ll summon Lichas.’
‘Can she?’ Something flickered across his pasty face which might have been hope. Or then again, might have been fear. ‘Can she bring him back, do you think?’
‘No, Hadrian, Candace can’t bring the dead back.’
The predicament came in proving the point.
Pushing through the crush of healers and masseurs, it appeared that whether you suffered from dandruff or deafness, diarrhoea or delirium, there was a specialist here who could cure it. Lumbar pain? Bleeding gums? Tumour? Come inside my tent, dearie. And whether it was your nose that was running or an open leg ulcer, somebody somewhere had a poultice, a pill or a pessary that would put you back on your feet in a jiffy. Charlatans were on hand to prescribe weasel dung for your boils, wolf’s fat for your haemorrhoids and spider’s heads to help you get pregnant, while old crones sold mandrake and charms, aphrodisiacs and love potions alongside pompous astrologers who laid maps of the heavens over the pavement, the better to plot your future, my dear.
Rex was wrong. Claudia followed a path lined with willows and poplars towards the hot springs and thought, Lavernium wasn’t the entrance to Hades. Lavernium was the gateway to immortality, and listening to these frauds one could almost believe that from here sprung the very fountain of youth.
Tapping her forefinger against her lip, she turned back. I wonder…
Three owl claws, two lion’s teeth and one spider’s head later, at least one piece of the puzzle had slotted into place, and as she approached the waterfall, she became aware that the laurels and rosemaries lining the bank had been planted deliberately so that their heady fragrance would overpower the sulphur to turn the valley into something that smelled more like the open sea than a deadly inferno. High in the sky buzzards circled, their cries drowned by the crash of the falls as the river smashed against the giant boulders in its path and splintered into a series of watercourses that plummeted down twenty feet of rock face in scores of racing warm torrents. Claudia picked her way down the wet, slippery steps using the rope handrail for support. Now and then, a tree had managed to root itself between the rocks and children used the overhanging branches as climbing frames from which to dangle fearless limbs in the surge. Below, anxious mothers prayed to the river god that he would spare their darlings from falling in and either breaking a bone or becoming trapped in the crevices and drowning, while beside them, carefree fathers splashed toddlers in the shallow saucers of rock and ducked the older children under the stream.
Kicking off her sandals, Claudia waded towards one of the rushing cascades and surrendered herself to its lush thermal waters. Darius was about the only man present who hadn’t stripped to his loin cloth, but sat with his back to a rock while two attendants led Larentia into a swirling torrent and held her steady while the force massaged her arthritic hips.
‘No offence, marm,’ Orson said, splashing through the shallows to join Claudia under the waterfall, ‘but Oi’ll not be hanging about here, if you don’t mind. Poncing about in healing springs might be fine for them that’s used to it, but Oi need to be doing something constructive.’
‘My dear Orson, what on earth makes you think I’d be offended?’ Claudia lifted her head to let the torrent massage her face. ‘Now do go back to your poncing, there’s a love, because there’s absolutely no question of you going home to the villa.’
‘Not the villa, marm. Oi’m not particularly comfortable there…’
‘Is the bed hard?’
‘No…’
‘Your room cold?’
‘Course not.’
‘Maybe the pillows are lumpy?’
‘No, marm, it ain’t that kind of uncomfy and Oi reckon you knows that.’
Claudia lowered her chin to its usual position, since that last jet seemed to run rather chilly.
‘From the moment Oi stepped into your marble atrium, you knew Oi’d feel out of place. You’re hoping that by sticking
me and my Flavia together that she’ll see me for the uneducated working man that Oi am, then she’ll be ashamed of me and break it off.’
This time Claudia turned her whole face away. At first that was exactly what she’d hoped, but things had changed even in the short time since their arrival. Orson’s acclimatization to luxury and abundance actually seemed further away, rather than closer.
‘Dammit, Orson, can’t you just bugger off and enjoy yourself for once?’
‘Begging your pardon, marm, but Oi don’t think you heard me right over the water. Oi ain’t enjoying myself, and it’s understandable, you not wanting the likes of me in your villa when you ain’t there—’
‘Orson, this has nothing to do with honesty—’
‘Oi wasn’t proposing to stay there anyroad. Me hands get jittery when they’ve got nothing to do, so Oi’ve asked at the toy-maker’s if Oi can help out—’
‘Lichas? For gods’ sake, Orson, the boy was murdered!’
‘Aye, and cause of that his sister’s been left with a stack of unfinished projects and, me being a woodworker, Oi thought Oi might finish them off for her.’
‘Well, that’s very noble of you.’ Now she had generosity of spirit to add to his list of fine qualities! ‘But,’ Claudia indicated to where Flavia was lying flat out in a shallow pool and being pummelled by a dozen foaming warm jets, ‘in affiancing yourself to my stepdaughter, you have certain obligations—and moreover, until you are married, both you and Flavia fall under my guardianship and therefore you will both do as you’re told.’
Pale blue eyes blinked. ‘Oi, um, haven’t actually asked Flavia to marry me yet.’
At long last Fortune provided Claudia with the edge she’d been looking for.
‘What did you say?’ It’s not easy to look affronted when your clothes are dripping wet and your hair is plastered all over your face, but by drawing her shoulders back and lifting her chin, she made a pretty good stab. ‘Good god, man, I’ve left you two unchaperoned for how long?’ She threw in a shudder for good measure. ‘Heaven only knows how far you’ve compromised my poor baby!’
‘No, marm, there’s been nothing—’
‘Orson, you will make an honest woman of Flavia this instant, do you hear me?’
He shifted position and wrung his big hands. ‘With all due respect, Oi’ll propose to Flavia when Oi think the moment is right, not when you do, and… Here! Oi’m not under your guardianship.’ Shrewdness tightened the plumpness of his face. For heavens’ sake, where were three bodyguards with shovels when you needed them most? ‘You’re trying to box me into a corner, that’s what you’re doing. Forcing me hand when there’s no need for it to be forced. Lord alive, you must think Oi’m daft.’
As a matter of fact, she thought Orson was anything but. She thought he was decent and honourable, mature beyond his years, a man who didn’t suffer fools gladly and could be pushed only as far as he allowed himself to be pushed, which is why… Claudia drew a deep breath.
‘My opinion is irrelevant, Orson. You will remain with my stepdaughter and that is final. Now kindly sod off and do your poncing elsewhere.’
For a moment, she thought he was going to say something. But he just pursed his lips and turned away, his bolster-like thighs pushing the warm waters aside like the oars of a warship.
‘Why don’t you tell him straight out that you want to keep an eye on him for his own safety?’ a baritone rumbled.
Claudia spun round so fast that she lost her footing on the slippery stone, but an inch before her shins cracked against the jagged limestone, a pair of strong hands had her clasped round the waist. Even over the sulphurous waters, she swore she could smell sandalwood, and were his eyes always that dark, she wondered?
‘I have no idea what you’re waffling on about, Orbilio. And thank you, you may let go of me any time that you like.’
‘Claudia, it’s me. You don’t have to pretend you’re consigning Orson to compulsory pampering on Flavia’s account for my benefit.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself that I do anything for your benefit, Marcus, and while we’re about it, you might want to remember that you’re still holding me round the waist.’
‘You said I could let go any time I liked.’
‘Change of rules. It’s any time that I like.’ She wriggled free and felt unaccountably exposed.
‘Drat.’ He grinned. ‘But I’m not letting you off the hook that easily, Mistress Seferius. You want Orson around so you can watch over him, except you’re too damned proud to show your feelings.’
‘(A) I don’t have any feelings, and (B) why on earth would I want to watch over that big ugly lug?’
‘Because one seventeen-year-old youth is dead, another’s still missing and you feel responsible for bringing a third into the equation.’ He spiked his wet hair out of his eyes with his hands. ‘If it helps, I don’t believe for a moment that there’s a monster abroad feeding off the flesh of seventeen-year-old boys. I think whoever killed Lichas had a strong personal motive—’
‘What about the shepherd boy?’
‘Are you asking, did Tages kill Lichas?’ He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. ‘It seems an obvious conclusion, given his timely disappearance, except for the fact there’s no motive.’
Upstream, reeds offered a safe haven to buntings raising their young and sunlight danced on the gently swirling waters.
‘Perhaps you’re not looking in the right place,’ she suggested.
Downstream, hypochondriacs knotted together on the riverbank like migrating geese, swilling down the health-giving waters as though alkaloids were about to be rationed.
‘Bearing in mind Mercurium’s hard-line reputation, if a young shepherd boy was struggling with his sexuality, Hadrian might not be the only person who wanted to keep his secret a secret.’
‘There’s no suggestion Tages was anything other than heterosexual.’
‘I think that’s why they call it a secret, Orbilio. And remember that if Hadrian and Lichas had to trek right the way out here to meet like-minded souls, Tages might have as well.’
‘What? Tages came to this town because he’s metrosexual?’
Claudia waded back to the shore for her sandals. The more urbane, the more dangerous, she reminded herself. Never forget that.
Orbilio picked his way carefully over the shingle behind her. ‘We seem to have drifted away from the point,’ he said. ‘We were talking about Orson, and I want you to know that it’s…well, it’s…perfectly natural to worry about people and…’
Strange, she thought. Not like him to struggle for words, and suddenly his eyes were everywhere except meeting hers.
‘And…it’s perfectly normal to let them know,’ he finished awkwardly. ‘Look, Claudia, what I’m trying to say—’
‘Orbilio, you’re no position to lecture people on what’s natural and normal. Not when you creep up on them beneath waterfalls.’
His smile was weak. ‘If a national hero refuses to allow the Security Police to interview his son through the customary procedures, subterfuge becomes the Security Police’s weapon of choice, and should this entail mingling among women clad in clinging wet robes, then, as a dedicated professional, I will not shirk my duty.’
She towelled her hair dry. ‘Haven’t you noticed? The rule here is the greater the obesity, the flimsier the garments.’
‘Happily for your trusty investigator, there are at least a dozen oculists on hand to prevent him from going blind,’ he quipped with an airy wave of the hand. ‘Anyway, now that you’ve met Hadrian, have you any idea why Lichas would have fallen for someone so totally devoid of personality and looks?’
‘None whatsoever, unless you count sensitivity, compassion, love of nature, the arts…’
‘I’m waiting to hear the word money.’
Claudia stopped rubbing. ‘Why?’
‘Because Rex is a wealthy man and Hadrian is his sole heir. Because Rex doesn’t want anyone sniffing around, even to the extent
of confining his son to his room whenever I’m on the premises. And because Rex is so desperate for me to leave this case alone that he’s given me an ultimatum. Drop the investigation or he’ll have my balls.’
She chewed her lip. ‘What did you say?’
‘Told him straight, I don’t have any.’
She laughed with him, though her mind was on a timid, motherless child overwhelmed by emotions beyond his control. Those clothes, she reflected. Those immaculate clothes… So white, so spotless, so fearfully well pressed. That didn’t smack of a man who was happy inside his own skin, and she saw years of fragile self-esteem being systematically eroded to the point where he’d been left powerless to the point of incapable. Hadrian’s clothes, she suspected, were the only aspect of his life over which he had any control.
‘So you’ve come round to the idea that Hadrian killed Lichas, after all?’
Orbilio leaned down to tie his boots. ‘Those haunted eyes had me fooled, I don’t mind admitting, but Rosenna’s adamant that Hadrian intended to break off their relationship because he feared public exposure.’
Public exposure? Claudia wondered. Or Rex’s wrath? ‘You’re suggesting Lichas, an impoverished toy-maker with his sights on the high life, threatened to blackmail his patrician lover and the situation backfired? Marcus, I haven’t heard a single person suggest that boy had a mercenary bone in his body, and the purple hollows beneath Hadrian’s eyes suggest he’s hurting from grief, not a conscience.’
‘Really? Well, if love’s young dream was so bloody good, why’s he avoiding me?’
