Marilyn Todd - I, Claudia

Take last week, for instance. Gaius was making his way down from the threshing floor as Claudia stepped off the verandah. He looks his age, she thought. He really looks his age and despite being flanked by slaves he had every appearance of being utterly alone.

‘How safe are the roads around here?’

‘Huh?’ He was a million miles away.

Claudia shrugged impatiently. ‘The roads. How many men do I need for a bodyguard?’

Gaius looked confused. ‘Five, six, I suppose.’

‘Then I’ll take six. See you later.’

‘Wait! Wait.’ He was slowly coming back into focus. ‘Where are you going?’

Claudia looked round sharply. ‘Nowhere, of course. I’m going for a walk.’

Gaius’s jaw dropped. ‘A what?’

She patted his cheek and smiled. ‘There’s a first time for everything. YOU!’ Her voice stopped a Nubian in his tracks. ‘Pick five others, arm yourselves, then meet me at the main gate in ten minutes.’

The negro, who was pushing a loaded barrow across the barnyard, glanced fearfully at his master as Claudia flounced off.

‘Do as she says,’ Gaius said wearily, shaking his head. ‘Just do as she says.’

He was right to look startled, she thought, as Galla laced up her stout boots. I’ve never been for a walk in my life, but there can’t be much to it. Follow the road for an hour, turn round and follow it back again.

‘We’ll need water, wine, and I daresay something to eat as well. Figs, pears, peaches and raisins. I like raisins.’ She held up the other boot for lacing.

‘Throw in a couple of chickens, something to go with them, say, onions, leeks, a few eggs, and perhaps a rabbit. I think I smelled honey cakes cooking in the kitchen, so they’d go down well, oh, and some almonds. What’s the matter?’

The girl quickly shook her head. ‘Nothing, madam.’

‘Then wipe that stupid look off your face.’

‘Yeth, madam.’

Bloody girl. Why couldn’t they find her a slave who didn’t lisp?

‘And if there’s any pecorino cheese floating round the kitchen, pack that, too-it’s my favourite.’

‘Yeth, madam.’

‘And apples. Don’t forget the apples.’

Claudia tested her boots for comfort and found them wanting. I’ll get blisters, I know. Bloody countryside. Trees and sky and hills and whatnot-dull as a dolphin’s dongler. Now then. To wear a pulla, or not to wear a pulla, that was the question. Not, she finally decided. The girl could carry it.

‘Galla, aren’t you ready yet?’ For heaven’s sake, what was keeping her? ‘Dear Diana, what’s that ?’

‘We’ll need the donkey for the food, madam.’

‘Galla.’ Claudia crooked her finger. ‘Galla, come here, I want to explain something to you. We’re going for a walk, not a bloody route march. The moke stays.’

‘What about-’

‘You’re not listening to me, Galla. The ugly sod stays, that is my final word. What the-’

Flavia was shouting and waving from the doorway, apparently signalling to Claudia to wait for her, she was coming with them. Claudia wrinkled her nose.

‘Second thoughts, Galla, the donkey’s fine. Gee up, boy.’

She set a cracking pace and when she looked back Flavia was still in the yard flapping her arms and looking for all the world like a windmill with sacks for sails.

Blisters. Donkeys. No doubt she’d get bitten to bits by gnats and midges as well. Juno, Jupiter and Mars! To think people actually put up with this in the name of enjoyment! Oh well, the big Nubian seems happy, that’s something, she supposed. First she tried counting vines, but, since they spread as far as the eye could see, she gave that the elbow in favour of a succession of nonsense. Spotting roadside flowers. Birds. Not stepping on the cracks between the octagonal slabs. Composing idiotic rhymes. At the fourth milestone, she spun smartly on her heel and marched home, tutting as her bodyguard tripped over both themselves and the donkey at the suddenness of the turn.

‘Good walk, my sweet?’

Gaius and Rollo the bailiff were deep in conversation when the sorry procession straggled through the gates.

‘The sun was too bright,

The breeze was too slight,

The hills were too steep,

Now I’m going to sleep.’

Her husband blinked and she thought he muttered something about the heat getting to her.

‘And you. Yes, you, girl.’ Galla limped over. ‘What’s the idea of packing so much stuff? Can’t you see that wretched animal’s wilting?’

‘You said-’

‘You should never have allowed it out in this heat. Give that poor creature water at once.’

Now, as the heat haze danced and glimmered for the first time over the seven distant hills that were Rome, Claudia decided it was difficult to see why people took to this walking lark-after all, it wasn’t as though there was anything to see. Still, never let it be said of Claudia Seferius she wasn’t willing to try out new experiences.

Gaius had taken the two-wheeled car, which made better time, but Claudia was happy just to be home. The comforting street cacophony, her own room, her own bed, even her own maid. Galla’s irritating lisp was grinding her nerves to pulp, it would be a relief to return to the rhythm of Melissa’s unassuming ministrations. Oh yes, it had been an uphill struggle at the villa, especially with Larentia, although luckily the old cow hadn’t been anywhere near as sure of herself as she’d made out. No accusations were made publicly and the constant sniping at her son’s wife had effectively served to alienate Larentia from Gaius, although she hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

‘I’ll see you get your come-uppance, you conniving bitch.’ She’d finally bearded her daughter-in-law in the bath house the day before she was due to leave.

Claudia stretched. ‘Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,’ she said, rubbing oil into her thighs. ‘But if you have any sense, you’ll take a word of advice from me.’

‘Never!’ The old woman spat the word out as though it were a glowing ember burning through her tongue.

Claudia smiled slowly, her eyes glistening. ‘Take it or leave it, Larentia, but if I were you I’d certainly be careful what I ate from now on.’

‘Why you…you…’

Revelling in both physical and psychological superiority, Claudia stood up and proceeded to oil her breasts. ‘Hedonistic whore?’ she asked sweetly.

‘…grasping bitch,’ snapped Larentia. ‘But you’ll pay. And when retribution comes I’ll be there, in the front row, you just wait and see. You won’t get a quadran of Gaius’s money.’ Her mouth fell open as the colour drained from her face. ‘Merciful Juno, that’s your game! You’re poisoning my son!’

Claudia shot her an amused glance. ‘Ah! So you’ve noticed the haunted eyes, the lacklustre expression, the dark circles? I wondered how long it would take you.’ The horror on Larentia’s face aged her ten years. She looked like a walking skeleton.

‘I must warn him,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’m going straight…straight…’ She was panting and wheezing, gulping for air. ‘I…I…’

She began to sway and clutch her throat. Claudia caught her before she hit the tiles. Dammit, the old bat didn’t even have the decency to die! Claudia sighed, threw a towel over herself and called for assistance, ensuring Larentia’s seizure was passed off as a fainting fit and that no talk of collapse came to Gaius’s ears.

As the wagon rolled downhill, she threw a fig in the air and caught it in her fist. If nothing else, this wretched sojourn has cleared my mind and brought matters into perspective. Lucan. Otho. Junius. Larentia. Anonymous letters. Murders. Accusations. Gaius. Orbilio… Oh yes, she was feeling confident again now. Gaius had finally lost patience and Flavia’s wedding to Scaevola was firmly fixed for the beginning of September, which was a niggling weight off Claudia’s mind. Larentia’s seizure would put the old fossil out of action for as long as it took for counter-measures to be set in motion. She’d had an idea about Lucan, and Otho could be dealt with any old time. Junius would be a loss, because, without him, who could she trust to place bets discreetly? And as for that other nasty business, whoever the bastard was his days were well and truly numbered, Claudia reckoned she’d have him nailed within a week, two at the outside.