Marilyn Todd - Man Eater

Sore point, Orbilio. Dinner, perhaps. Baths, perhaps.

But the meetings with clients have been pitifully few and far between.

‘It’s possible,’ she admitted slowly. A faint bell was beginning to ring.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Generally encased in long patrician tunics, a girl doesn’t expect a sudden plethora of thighs all over her bedroom. Especially firm, bronzed, muscular ones. Not when there’s just one small light flickering in the darkness. And definitely not when the room you’re in seems to shrink and shrink to the size of a closet. Claudia drained her glass in one swallow.

‘You were wrong about Sergius.’ That should put Hotshot in his place. ‘He told me he gets these bouts from time to time- Are you listening to me?’

‘What do you know about Tulola’s husband?’

Obviously not. ‘Only that he walked out on her eons back and she still gets uppity.’ It would be truer to say that the merest mention of the subject and Tulola goes ape.

‘Do you know why?’

‘She was shaking her tail feathers beyond the confines of the nuptial couch, behaviour which apparently failed to coincide with her husband’s views on love, loyalty, marriage and fidelity.’

‘No, I meant do you know why she won’t have his name so much as mentioned?’

Tulola is not a girl who takes lightly to being dumped. ‘I can guess.’ She seeks revenge on all men.

‘I’d bet you a quail to a quadran you’d be wrong.’ He stood up and stretched his arms upwards towards the ceiling. ‘Suppose I tell you the husband comes home one night, discovers Tulola’s been playing around, they have an almighty row and he walks out?’

Claudia felt the tension pull in her neck and in her shoulders as she wondered where this was leading.

‘Then suppose I tell you that he’s never heard of again? That she takes his clothes, his books, his lyre, dumps them in a pile and makes a bonfire? What would you say to that?’

What indeed. ‘You’re suggesting it was an excuse for a funeral pyre?’

‘Not necessarily, I was merely canvassing your opinion, but it’s interesting how we both arrived at similar scenarios.’

He wandered across to the table, rattled the dice cup and tipped out the contents. ‘Full house,’ he chuckled. ‘Would you believe it?’

Claudia quickly scooped up the dice and tucked them into the folds of her pale blue gown. Of course they’d turn up a different face. They were weighted to!

‘Then there’s Pallas,’ he continued, pouring the thin, white wine into the gaming cup. ‘Where does he fit in?’

‘Not many of his tunics, that’s for sure.’

Orbilio refilled Claudia’s glass and passed it across. ‘By his own admission he’s been here two years, almost as long as the newlyweds. I trust there aren’t three on our honeymoon.’

I shall ignore that. ‘Four, actually. You’re forgetting Tulola.’

‘Five, then. We’re both forgetting Euphemia.’

For several moments they stood together by the open window watching the moon bleach the treetops and turn the clouds to silver, and the silence grew. It took on a life force all of its own. It began to condense, heat, pulsate. There was too much of him, she decided. The short tunic, the smell of sandalwood, that one bare shoulder with a little scar just to the left of…

‘One thing struck me as odd.’ Why the hell did she blurt that out? ‘Sergius was bloody quick off the mark when it came to summoning Macer.’

‘Meaning that finding his house guest stab a stranger in the dead of night is not?’

‘Don’t be obtuse, Orbilio, it’s beneath you.’

‘After the names you’ve called me lately, I thought nothing would fit.’ It was the moonlight, of course, that looked as though his eyes were sparkling. ‘So, what’s worrying you? You think Sergius set you up?’

‘Uh-uh. He went white as a sheet when Macer made his accusation, but I have a feeling he knows more than he’s letting on.’ She tapped one finger thoughtfully on the windowsill. ‘Maybe Fronto stumbled on to the training programme and asked too high a price for his silence?’

‘Why send for the might of the military? Sergius would more likely want it hushed up.’

‘Full circle,’ she replied, ‘and that’s what’s so damned peculiar.’ A vixen screamed across the valley, tightening the screw of tension. Blood throbbed in Claudia’s ear. ‘If Sergius is on the level, he could have dealt with the matter himself, and if he’s not, why play cat and mouse with the Prefect? Why aren’t you drinking your wine?’

‘Uh-stomach ulcer.’ He patted his rough, hessian belt. ‘Right here. Very tender.’

‘I thought it was the other side?’

‘Eh? Oh, the pain moves about. Wicked. What do you know about arson?’

The nearness of his profile began to irritate her. ‘It wasn’t me.’ She could see every line, every goddamned crevice. ‘Subject closed.’ Bloody moonlight.

‘Wrong words to use to a policeman who is both tenacious and uncompromising.’ Today’s dust was still lodged in his throat, why else was his voice even deeper and huskier?

‘Born under the sign of the Bull, were we?’ Any second now, the ceiling would come brushing her head and the walls smash together like the Clashing Rocks off Sicily.

He shot her a suspicious glance. ‘What makes you ask?’

‘You give out so much of it, it was an obvious conclusion.’ Someone was already sucking the oxygen out of the room.

‘I think it’s time to join the party.’ She turned to face the open window, resisting the impulse to gulp the fresh air. ‘Sounds like they’ve started without us.’

‘We don’t have to join them,’ he spoke so quietly she could barely make out the words. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

What I want, Marcus Cornelius, is for you to take me in your arms, to feel you pressed against me so tight I can hear both our hearts beating at once. ‘Of course I bloody want to.’ It’s a party, right?

She heard a loud exhalation, smelled the sweetness of rosemary on his breath. ‘I see.’ There was a terrible long pause. ‘Well, for gods’ sake, be careful, will you? Three people are dead before their time, one attempt has already been made on your life-’

‘These points didn’t seem to trouble you when you followed me to Tarsulae.’

‘Pre-empted,’ he said stiffly. ‘Running away won’t help one iota.’ He leaned forward, and now she could smell sandalwood and juniper as well. ‘I’ll protect you as much as I can-’

‘I don’t need a bloody nursemaid,’ she snapped. And I don’t need your dark eyes under my nose reminding me how bloody handsome you are, and I don’t need that damned sandalwood stinking my wine…

‘Oh, yes, you do!’ he barked back. ‘Stop pretending, Claudia. You thrive on risk. You get high on the odds, that desperate thrill of uncertainty, those heart-stopping near misses-’

Her eyes flashed in the lamplight. ‘How dare you preach at me!’

‘Preach? You think my job’s different? Compulsion, addiction, obsession, call it what you like, Claudia, it drives me the same as it drives you, only with me there’s a difference.’

‘Damn right. I’m free to go where I choose, with whoever I choose and whenever I choose, and you know what, Orbilio? I’ve had just about enough of you.’ This room’s not big enough to take both of us. ‘Now get out!’

‘Dammit, woman-’

‘Out!’

‘Listen for a minute. I’m on equal footing with the villains, I know their game and the rules they play by, but out there is another player,’ he jabbed his thumb towards the banqueting hall, ‘with a very different set of rules.’

Claudia wanted to scream, Don’t you think I don’t know that? Don’t you think I’m not starting at shadows every time I leave the sanctuary of these four walls? That every time I see Alis or Corbulo or Barea I wonder are they going to turn on me and slit my throat?