Marilyn Todd - I, Claudia

‘More vinegar, my friend?’

He tipped Orbilio’s head back, pinched his nose while Orbilio squirmed and pursed his lips until the need for air overtook him, then Balbus tipped the liquid down his throat. At the same time he twisted Orbilio’s nipple with his free hand, making him jerk and swallow. Carefully he set down the jug, balled his fist and rammed it into Orbilio’s stomach to produce another groan.

Claudia dropped the hem of the curtain. It was obvious what was happening. The bloodlust had overtaken Balbus to such a degree that he intended to prolong it as long as he could. To that end, he’d selected a site where he could torture his victim slowly and in complete privacy. Screams would go unheard, he could take all the time in the world, cutting Orbilio into a thousand pieces if he so desired. Well, maybe this wasn’t the way Marcus would have chosen to start a Thursday, but at least he was alive and with all his organs intact. Trouble was, although she’d sent for help, chances were that Balbus would kill him the moment he heard legionaries clanking towards the building, and there was precious little she could do to prevent it. If she burst in, brandishing her spear, he could easily kill Orbilio before she reached him and there was no way she could spit him with the bloody thing, she’d never thrown one in her life. Think, girl, think. Create a diversion! That’s it, you could…what? Saunter in and say, Hello, Ventidius, having fun? and trust he’s so overcome with surprise he drops his weapons? Start a fire? Rush in, kick the lamps over-then by the time Balbus and you have finished wrestling, Marcus’ll be burned to a frazzle. For pity’s sake, use your noodle, Claudia.

She lifted up the curtain again. What the hell was that two-pronged fork doing in his hand? Oh no! Sweet Jupiter no! The implement he was flourishing seemed purpose- made for Ventidius Balbus, and perhaps it was-two arched prongs three inches apart. She stared, mesmerized. Balbus was lunging first at Orbilio’s eyes, then at his testicles. Orbilio’s face was bleached as he flinched and ducked. With each lunge, the prongs came that little bit closer…

‘I have something of a problem, my friend.’ He might have been talking politics or ordering a chicken. ‘One is torn between plucking your eyeballs out in the knowledge that afterwards you’ll never know where the next strike’s coming from. Or, and this is the difficulty, whether to let you watch so you can anticipate my next move.’

He bridged his fingers and frowned. Head back, Orbilio stared at the pronged instrument wavering in front of him.

‘Something of a conundrum, but one thinks, on balance, the latter takes precedence and I’m sure you will agree-it would be very remiss of me not to allow you to watch the proceedings. Now, where should one begin? I still think the emasculation, don’t you? Yes, of course you do. You want me to teach you a lesson for fucking my wife.’

The adam’s apple in Orbilio’s throat moved up and down. ‘I don’t know your wife,’ he said hoarsely.

‘Liar!’

The fork in Balbus’s hand slashed down Orbilio’s chest, leaving two parallel red streaks in its wake.

Soldiers, where are you? Callisunus, you foul-mouthed, feckless son of a bitch, get your carcass down here before it’s too late!

It was already too late. Balbus slowly laid down the bloody fork and selected a vicious-looking saw. His other hand picked out a pair of tweezers.

Oh shit.

There was only one strategy Claudia could think of. Wild, feckless, maybe even hopeless. But she had to try. A frontal attack would be suicide. Balbus had orchestrated his sadistic operation like a theatrical performance, with him and his victim centre-stage. For Claudia to make a dash towards him was impossible, there was a distance of at least forty paces. Assuming Marcus wasn’t killed, she would be. However if she could pass herself off as the personification of the goddess Sospita…? Most Romans feared offending their gods, believing they would receive personal retribution. Mighty Juno, let Balbus be one of them! As Sospita she would denounce him, he would prostrate himself before her, she would bring this bloody great shield down on his head-

Trembling fingers untied the goatskin and slipped out the bone pin. The woollen wrap drifted silently down to the floor thirty cubits below. She pulled the ranksmelling skin over her head like a helmet and slipped under the curtain. Silently in her bootees she crossed to the back of the platform, advancing with shield and spear outstretched from the blackness. Balbus’s jaw dropped. ‘Hear me, for I am Sospita, you defiler of my temple.’ The words boomed out in the silent warehouse, her voice disguised by dropping several octaves. The colour had drained from his face, the boiled gooseberries stood out on stalks.

‘Only virgins may seek blessings at my feet for fecundity, yet you bring a harlot, experienced in the ways of men, to mock me.’

She brought the spear down hard on the boards, sending reverberations over the upper storey. The shaft, already broken, threatened to break completely. She couldn’t use that dodge again.

‘On your belly, you transgressor and make obeisance to Sospita.’

‘You!’ It sounded like a strong wind in a long tunnel.

Oh shit! He wasn’t staring because he saw Sospita. He was staring because he saw Claudia. Anger suffused his pallid cheeks. Anger not so much at her as at himself. For allowing her to escape. Claudia saw in his face that he would kill her for this omission.

‘Bitch!’ He flung the tweezers across the room and grabbed a knife. ‘Faithless, whoring bitch!’

The glint on the blade was nothing compared to the insane glint in his eye. With a manic cry he lunged towards her, the amputation saw flashing in his other hand. Claudia parried the knife with the shield, twisting to the left. He spun round, hacking downwards. Again she raised the shield, but Balbus was too fast. It spun out of her hand, wrenching her fingers, and she felt herself falling. The bootees had no grip, her feet were sliding, kicking air. Balbus lunged, but his foot caught in the goatskin. There was a crack as he landed on his knees and Claudia felt the rasp of the saw as it grazed her naked shoulder. She heard it clatter out of his hands and skid across the boards. Using the spear for leverage, she sprang to her feet just as the knife whizzed past. A bony hand fastened itself round her wrist and twisted. The spear fell out of her grasp as Claudia gasped with the pain from her raw, bleeding wrist. She was losing, she knew that. Her strength had been sapped from her ordeal in Sospita’s shrine, from the two fast runs across the city. His, meanwhile, was growing stronger, fed by insanity and bloodlust. Her foot caught Balbus in the groin, but there was no weight behind it. The knife flashed in the semi-darkness. She could hear a string of bitter obscenities under his breath.

Wildly Claudia’s eyes searched for the table of instruments. Circling and fighting for her life, she’d lost track of direction. Dear Diana, where was the bloody thing? Then she saw it. Faking a dive, she took advantage in the split second Balbus was diverted to dart towards the ring of oil lamps. From nowhere a hand clamped round her ankle and she pitched forward, the breath knocked out of her. Behind her she could hear Ventidius Balbus in the blackness.

‘Now you will die, you treacherous whore.’

The hand fell away from her ankle. Gasping for air Claudia scrabbled to her feet, but found herself stumbling over the shaft of the spear. Her hands clamped over it, but before she could regain her balance, Balbus was upon her, his blade raised.

She heard a man’s voice shout ‘The spear!’ and instinctively brought it up to protect herself, but it was too late. Claudia closed her eyes and waited for death. Her whole body jolted, she heard a sickening squelch, but surprisingly felt no pain. Confused, she opened her eyes to see Balbus floundering on the spear he’d run into. Suddenly the shaft snapped in her hand and she jumped backwards as though it were burning. She waited for him to fall, but instead he calmly pulled out the spear-tip, grinning horribly. Blood spurted everywhere. Vast red pools began to form.