Marilyn Todd - Black Salamander

To her right stood a smelting works, its acid metal odour permeating the air and masking the freshness of the waterfall, the scent of the lush woodland ferns, of thorny dog roses and clumps of sweet-smelling water mint.

On a slow-moving part of the stream, a heron stood, hunched, intent on its prey and unconcerned about the human drama unfolding on the opposite bank.

The house in the centre was large, built of stone, with terracotta tiles on the roof and proper windows with shutters, though any resemblance to a Roman villa ended there. Planks and barrels littered the doorway, antlers hung on the exterior walls, the majority of the shutters were closed. A banner hung between two wooden poles-a golden globe in the centre of a blood red circle.

With a swish, the ropes binding her wrists were cut through, and Claudia was propelled inside so roughly that she landed with a crunch on her knees.

‘Do you know who I am?’ a voice growled.

‘Why? Have you forgotten?’

A gravelly laugh filled the room. ‘They said you’d be trouble.’

‘Don’t believe every rumour which comes your way. They said you had eight legs.’

‘I have a name, too. Sualinos.’ Not exactly built like an oak tree, although he wasn’t what you’d call puny. And his Latin was almost perfect, barely a trace of an accent.

‘Thanks, but I’ll stick with the nickname. It suits you, somehow.’

A flash of teeth showed white in the darkness. ‘Well, we’re not here to exchange compliments. You have something I want.’

Her eyes were having trouble adjusting from sack to sunshine back to shadows once more, and yet there appeared to be a familiar face in front of her ‘Theo?’ She could hardly believe it! Boyishly handsome, his freckles standing out clearer and darker as her eyes became used to the gloom. ‘What are you doing here with the Spider?’

Holy Mars, the strain of captivity was taking its toll, he looked ghastly. Grey skin. Sunken cheeks. His eyes were lifeless and staring.

Holy shit! She recoiled in horror. No wonder Theo’s face looked terrible. It was all that was left of him!

Deep in the room, the voice laughed. ‘I plan to have a special niche made for this one,’ it boomed. ‘Every time I see his head, it will be a reminder of these difficult times-and a salutary lesson to me that not every man has a price.’

‘You bastard,’ she said, swiping her hair out of her eyes as she staggered to her feet. ‘Anyway, you’ll find out soon enough, all Romans are honourable.’ Her hands, she noticed, were shaking.

‘This one wasn’t.’ He had perched himself on the edge of a table. ‘The sticking point between Theo and me was simply that I was unable to compete with the prize already dangled before him, namely a place in his new Republic.’

Theo? Claudia climbed unsteadily to her feet. Dammit, I should have listened to you, Marcus Cornelius. You said Theo was the traitor in the group. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Wasn’t it Theo who tried so hard to recover the dead? Naturally, a little voice chirruped. Stalling for time. That’s the reason he was happy for the should-we-stay or should-we-go argument to continue unchecked. Any delay, no matter how small, was his goal… Yet, why the excitement at spotting Arcas’s fire? Of course. He was genuinely scared they were lost! All this passed through her mind in the splitting of a second. It was Theo who cut through the saddle strap, and yes, now it made sense, he could not afford any other person to rescue her, it had to be him on the rope. Hell, if she had admitted her fall had been anything less than an accident, one of the convoy might have remembered Theo hanging round the horses, and the game would be up. It was only when he’d satisfied himself that she suspected nothing that he had been happy to haul her back up to safety.

Claudia stared at the youthful face made haggard only in death and any pity she’d felt for Theodorus dissolved like bones in lime acid. He had killed two fellow soldiers, Libo, Nestor, the lyre-maker, the brick-maker and his wife, and for what? Not for a passionate belief in a new order for Rome.

For his own petty ends.

‘You and Theodorus have more in common than you might think,’ she told her captor.

‘I doubt that.’ He came towards her, stopping less than a pace away in the oblong of light from the door. Regardless of the circumstances, Claudia had to admit the Spider cut a fine figure. Still on the good side of forty, he was hardly the squat, repellent creature she’d imagined sitting at the centre of his web. Here was a lean, mean, fighting machine, every inch of him hard muscle with a no-messing jaw and lips that had probably kissed a thousand willing women.

‘Theo was a pretty-boy, weak and self-serving, who mistook cunning for intelligence,’ he said. ‘We had quite a long chat, in the end.’ He gave Theo’s hair an affectionate ruffle. ‘But then, of course, we have ways…’ He left the sentence hanging.

‘You think I’m cowed by your bully-boy tactics?’ She spat, folding her arms across her breast in defiance.

‘No.’ With a taut smile of agreement, he strode across to the window and flung wide the shutters. A rush of bright light flooded the room. Beyond the water sparkled and danced over the rock as a pair of yellow wagtails darted and dived for flies, flicking their tails on the rocks.

She wondered what he was waiting for. Why the smug twinkle in his eye. Damn you, Spider man. I’m not playing your game. She focused her gaze on the waterfall.

‘You still have something I want,’ the rebel chieftain said at last. ‘The final part of the map.’

‘It will stick in your craw to admit a mistake, but your thugs turned my room over this morning. Did they find it? Of course not. I’d already passed my pouch over to Ecba.’

‘Tut, tut. Untruths from a mouth as pretty as yours?’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Alas for you, my man-the drunken sailor, you might recall him?-informs me this was not the case and, frankly, of the two of you, I’m more inclined to take his word over yours. Now, then.’ With a broad sweep of his hand, he indicated the deerskins opened out and arranged on the table. ‘I have Ecba’s collection, Theo’s collection, and only this morning did my agents relieve the priest, the glass-blower and the astrologer of their pouches.’ He gave a deprecating shrug. ‘One barely needs to be observant to note there is a gap.’

Right smack in the middle. Claudia’s heart skipped a beat.

‘That’s my piece, that one there.’ She pointed to the north-west corner.

‘Bluffs are only as reliable as the intelligence of the person one is aiming to con. Please don’t insult mine.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Claudia said. ‘Anything that tiny isn’t worth bothering with.’

Dammit, what was he playing at? All this time, just standing there. As though waiting for something… As though bored with the conversation, she walked over to examine the map on the table. From the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. The far wall. She glanced back at the Spider. His grin was wider. She refused to look at the wall. What could possibly- Jupiter, Juno and Mars!

Spinning backwards, her whole body shaking, her skin clammy, Claudia ran to the door and threw up over the cobbles. Lewd and raucous laughter rang out from the rebel thugs. She didn’t hear. How many niches in his wall? Twenty? Twenty-five? Each filled with a dried-up human head.

‘You’re sick, you know that,’ she said, staggering back.

‘Don’t be squeamish. The head is the seat of power, and I hold for eternity the power of my enemies.’

‘Eternity, she scoffed, wiping her mouth. Inside, every bone, every organ seemed to have melted away, there was nothing inside but a great gaping hole.