Marilyn Todd - Sour Grapes

Happiness and pleasure was their birthright. It was Fufluns' job to see to that, so over here the horned god dressed in his customary goatskin toasted newcomers with his brimming goblet. Over there, maidens in bangles and bracelets that encircled ankles and arms, and wearing great silver disks in their ears, danced in welcome, while overhead, instead of the celestial paintings Orbilio was accustomed to seeing, painted roots entwined with Etruscan iris, a reminder that Fufluns made his home deep in the earth, and that this was his world devotees were entering, and that they had left theirs behind.

'I know you!' a little voice chirruped at Orbilio's knee. 'You come to the villa and hold hands with the old witch.' 'I do?'

'Yes, but I don't think Claudia's really a witch, because she hasn't changed anyone into a frog, and besides, she's not very old, either. I'm Amanda,' the chirrup continued, 'and this is my bestest friend, Indigo.'

He looked down, but saw only the one bright-eyed child with freckles on her face almost as large as herself.

'Ladies.' He performed as deep and gracious a bow as he had ever made. 'Your servant, Marcus.'

Amanda burst into giggles. 'You live in Rome, don't you, servant Marcus?'

'On the Esquiline Hill,' he replied solemnly, before realizing that actually, no, he did not live there. Not any more. His home was now far away. In south-west Gaul…

'I wonder if you're my father?'

Mother of Tarquin, he hoped not. He wanted children, sure. But not illegitimate ones thrust at him several years after some casual coupling.

'Am I your father? Hm, let me see.' He pretended to consider the matter. 'Do I have your lovely blonde hair?'

'No.'

'Do I have your lovely blue eyes?'

'No.'

He swooped down and pinched her nose between his index and forefinger. 'But I do have your lovely snub nose!'

'Give it back, give it back,' she squealed delightedly, jumping up for the thumb she thought was her nose.

'Only if you're a very good girl.'

'Oh, I'm never good,' Amanda sighed. 'Me and Indigo are always in trouble, and if Mummy catches me here at this temple, I'm dead meat for sure.'

'Mummy?'

'You know the things, Orbilio,' a female voice muttered from the corner of her mouth. 'Come from Egypt. Old, wrinkled and completely brainless.'

'That sounds like my mummy, not hers,' he murmured as he replaced Amanda's nose amid another bout of giggles.

It was no coincidence, bumping into Claudia. Ever since he'd requested the report on Vorda's suicide, he'd been wanting to question Timi, and when he returned to the villa this morning and was told Claudia had left to check on Flavia's progress (like hell!), it seemed the perfect opportunity to sound out her dance teacher.

'So then.' Claudia plucked a sprig of oregano from one of the herbal garlands that snaked round the pillars. 'What brings you to the temple this fine, sunny morning?'

'Don't tell me you've forgotten!' Amanda assumed the question had been addressed to her. 'It's the Trumpet Parade, silly! Mummy said I could go into town and watch the procession, only Indigo said we should come here instead, because Mummy says we're not allowed near the temple and that really bad things happen to little girls who come here, but I like it, don't you?' Blue eyes widened as they travelled up the pillar to what must have seemed like the sky at the top, it was so far away. 'Promise not to tell, either of you, but I'm coming back tomorrow to play with the kittens. They're cute.'

'I tell you what, Amanda.' Marcus knelt down. 'You go down and play with the kittens now, then I'll give you a ride into town on my horse and that way you can still watch the Parade of the Trumpets.'

'You mean I get it all?'

'You're a woman,' he said, ruffling her hair. 'Of course you get it all.'

'Out-of-bounds temple, kittens, trumpets, the lot?'

He winked. 'I'll even buy you a bun when we get to Mercurium.'

'Oh, servant Marcus, I love you, I love you, because I'm ever so hungry. Did you know I haven't eaten since breakfast?' She tried to wink back at him and failed.

'All of two hours, eh? Then we'd better make it two buns, one for each hour.'

'Excuse me, but it'll be three buns by the time we get there,' she sniffed, skipping down the steps.

'Oh, lord, what have I got myself into?' he groaned.

'Serves you right for ignoring your own army training. Never volunteer, remember?'

'I will next time!'

Claudia took a bench facing a fresco of sated nymphs and satyrs sleeping contentedly in Fufluns' sacred hazel grove, their empty goblets sprawled beside them. 'I don't suppose this visit is because you're planning to convert to the red religion?'

'It's the celibacy that worries me,' he replied, taking the opposite seat. 'I don't fancy giving it up.'

He liked it when she smiled. The way it started off at one corner of her mouth, as though struggling out against her will, then spreading so that her cheeks bunched up until it finally danced out of her eyes.

'Vorda's death bothers me,' he said, leaning back against the wall. It was a shame he'd missed out on the fun and games with the spirits last night, but he'd needed to speak to the girl's mother. 'Suicide seems right out of character, yet she drowned in the river, Lichas drowned in the river-'

'And Felix's mother might have drowned in the river, as well.'

He sat up. 'Who's Felix?'

Something fluttered over her face and closed down her expression. 'No one. Local legend. Fairytale. What were you saying about Vorda?'

She was lying. Claudia Seferius was doing it again. Dammit, why would she never tell him the truth? When was she ever going to trust him?

'Do you think Vorda's death was murder made to look like suicide?' she said in the hurried manner of someone desperate to change the subject.

'No.' He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle. 'Talking to the rivermen — heroes, if you listen to Vorda's mother, who risked eternal damnation diving into that pool — they're quite clear her belongings were neatly arranged on a rock. Shawl folded. Amulets on top.' Of course, it wouldn't be the first time a killer had staged such a scene. However… 'It was a still, warm night when she went in, and Kol the goatherd was sleeping not far away.'

Wolves choffed down newborn kids every bit as eagerly as they choffed down newborn lambs.

'He'd seen Vorda earlier, bathing in the river. Dirty little devil crept up to watch, because she was naked, but the problem was, she was crying.'

The impression Kol gave was that if she hadn't been, he'd have stayed a bloody sight longer, but at eleven years old the boy still had a conscience. Feeling that he was prying, he went back to his goats.

'Kol insists he would have heard any struggle, never mind screams, and he's equally sure no one else came down that path.'

'It's a pity you hadn't been able to inspect Vorda's body,' Claudia said, and when she pushed her hair back from her face, the gesture highlighted the curve of her breasts. 'If she'd fought for her life, there would be abrasions to betray her attacker.'

Orbilio cleared his throat and his impure thoughts. 'I questioned the rivermen about bruising. They insisted there was none.'

'And Vorda's mother would certainly have mentioned it,' Claudia added.

Indeed. No matter how conscientious the believer, the will of the gods only stretches so far.

'There was one odd thing,' he said slowly. 'The divers say her folded shawl was wet when they picked it up, and that struck me as strange. I mentioned it to her mother, who confirmed it was still damp when they handed it over, and I took a good, hard look at that wrap. It smelled of sorrel and the smell was strongest over a series of red stains that were not, I hasten to add, blood, but cochineal dye.'