Marilyn Todd - Man Eater

Was it the distant rumble of thunder that made the air electric? Or the proximity of the Etruscan?

‘From what I saw of the elephant, you’ve delivered bloody miracles. Is he really as ill as Taranis says?’

‘Nothing’s ever like Taranis says. I think you’ll find Sergius has miscalculated on the amount of wine an empty stomach can cope with.’

‘They say things come in threes,’ she replied carefully. ‘Fronto, then Coronis. It makes me wonder who’s next.’ The trainer’s face creased into a grin. ‘Well, stop,’ he said. ‘Accidents happen all the time.’

‘Fronto was no accident, and Macer has me pegged for a murderess, remember?’

‘Macer has straw for brains. None of us think you killed Fronto, and Sergius intends to draft a complaint to the Emperor himself when he’s feeling a bit more chipper. Now let’s turn back, those clouds look ugly.’ Claudia couldn’t decide whether the deafening noise was thunder or the thumping of her heart. It wasn’t that she was drawn to him physically-he did not, after all, have the desperate magnetism that, say for instance, Marcus Cornelius possessed by the boatload (as of course did hundreds of others whose names would no doubt come to her later)-but the intensity of those tundra eyes was incredibly flattering, and who doesn’t respond to that? Moreover, he was strong and he really wasn’t bad looking once you got past the double bump that proclaimed his heritage. Most of all, Corbulo looks the type who takes his time-and aeons had passed since Claudia Seferius had felt the slow touch of a man’s hand…

Plus which, unlike an affair with a certain security policeman, there would be no repercussions afterwards. It was certainly something to think about.

‘I’ll venture another hundred paces,’ she said, hoping the rumbles would drown the hoarseness of her voice. What did he see in Tulola-apart from the obvious? ‘Alone, if you don’t mind.’

You don’t associate Corbulo with a role in the harem. ‘I can’t leave you out here.’

He was as far removed from the likes of Timoleon as Neptune from a wood nymph.

‘I can look after myself,’ she assured him. Always have. Always will. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Very well, then.’ He reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. ‘If you insist.’

Surprisingly he did not retrace his steps, but turned to the right instead. ‘It’s you who needs help,’ she quipped. ‘The house is straight on.’

He hesitated. ‘I don’t sleep in the house,’ he called back. ‘My quarters back on to the elephant house.’ There was a moment’s silence before he added, ‘If you should ever want to call on me.’

She walked on up the hill, her thoughts chasing each other like puppies in hay. It made sense-in retrospect. She’d never seen Corbulo with Tulola, simply made an assumption. Which changed everything.

A bolt of white lightning shattered the night, its jagged veins scarring the sky. Claudia shivered. There was a primeval quality to storms without rain. Flashes of whitehot fire. Crashes of Jupiter’s thundersticks. She pulled her wrap tight and watched the night tear itself apart. In their sheds in the valley, the wild beasts roared and bucked and faced down the elements. Up here, familiar shapes contorted into sinister strangers. Mundane branches of gnarled oak became the twisted limbs of fiends. The perky stream that gave the Pictors their water turned into a menacing river of blood.

It’s getting to me, she thought. The strain is beginning to tell.

The wind began to howl through the trees. Time to turn back. She wished now she’d brought a brand to light her way. Perhaps she should follow the brook? Dammit, she’d forgotten the hedge that fenced in the gazelles. Her palla snagged on the thorns. Damn!

The path. Where was it?

A barn owl, white and silent, swooped for the safety of the canopy.

Uneasy now, Claudia stumbled through the undergrowth, tripping on a stone, stubbing her toe on a fallen branch…

Far below, the house shone in a blaze of light. It was just a question of reaching it…

A wild-eyed doe crashed through the brambles and Claudia cried out. She could taste juniper in the air, and sickly sweet manna. Bats! There’s a bat in my hair! But it was just a briar, which drew blood when she pulled free. High above, the wind conducted a malevolent orchestra. Poplars whistled, chestnuts wailed and there was a tuneless flute in the pines. Then, suddenly, the path showed clear in a flare of white.

Dear Diana. I thought I’d never find you.

Blindly she raced down the hill, heedless of rocks that trip and roots that trap, and only when she was well clear of the woods did she begin to slow down. Claudia Seferius, pull yourself together. This is foolish. She brushed away cobs of blood where the briar had scratched. Extremely foolish.

Yet the sense of evil was all-pervasive…

Ridiculous. Fancy letting yourself be frightened by a storm! Now get a grip. It won’t do, walking through the atrium with every goddamned bone rattling.

Resisting the urge to belt the rest of the way, Claudia decided to beat the demons by singing. That, and the rumpus from the menagerie, should put the wind up even the Minotaur. She was passing the monkey house and was well into the second verse of a bawdy winehouse ballad when her scalp began to prickle. Half of her, the educated half, said this is silly, slow down, you’re on edge. But the other half, the half that remembered growing up in the slums, said stand by your instincts and remember that in situations like this, only one word applies.

Runlikehell.

But she could not run fast enough.

Out of the blackness a hand lashed out and caught at her wrap. She shrugged the palla free but the hand was prepared for that. Like a striking cobra, it lunged at her flying tunic. She heard that tear, too, but the grip was solid and she was spun helplessly round. Suddenly a sack was flung over her head, blinding her, pinning her arms. Frantically she scrabbled and clawed, but with the advantage of sight, her assailant twisted and dodged, and none of the kicks found their target. The cloth muffled her screams. An arm clamped round her waist like a band round a barrel. She heard thunderclaps and bellows and terrified roars from the pens. The rhino charged its shed wall, the elephant trumpeted. Yelling and fighting, she was dragged backwards into the bushes. Another rip, as her hem caught on holly.

Rape! The bastard intended to rape her!

A second vice locked round her neck, forcing her head back. The sacking rasped against her cheek, clogged her mouth, blocked her nostrils. She could hear herself gagging on the dust. Desperately she tried to break free, but the armlock tightened and she began to choke.

Progress was faster now her resistance was gone. Frenziedly fighting for breath, Claudia tried to get her bearings. He was dragging her up the hill, hardly surprising. No! Not a hill. That’s terraced. This was more an embankment. Why didn’t he throw her to the ground here and now? No one could see, no one could hear. What was he waiting for?

Then something hard collided with the small of her back. Wood. Sharp. Pointed, surely? A fence? Without warning, he let go her neck, grabbed her ankles and tipped her backwards.

Oh, no. Sweet Jupiter, no!

As the reverberations of the fall crushed the breath out of her, the full horror became clear. This wasn’t rape. He intended to kill her! Because there was only one palisade on Sergius’ estate. It enclosed the crocodiles…

Hacking, choking, Claudia twisted her foot and found a toehold between the posts. Not much, just enough to give her purchase so she could jerk free of the sack. She heard a thud as he vaulted the fence, and too late she was back in a headlock. Claudia heard him (her?) grunt with the effort. Man or woman, it needed precious little brute force, a crime like this, based on the mechanics of haulage. Her ankle wrenched under the strain and she tasted blood where she bit through her lip with the pain. At her back, the sack was twisted round and round, tighter and tighter for leverage. Dear Juno, if there is any mercy in your breast, give him heart failure. Right here on the spot.