‘What are they looking for?’ Burrus asked.

‘Signs of encampment, perhaps two or three men living in the woods. They must have left a camp fire, dug a small latrine pit. They were probably soldiers, or perhaps even travelling tinkers or pedlars. If they did set up camp it would be fairly recent. Search for fire pits, scraps of clothing or food.’

Burrus nodded and hurried off.

‘And me?’ Gaius grinned. ‘Do you have orders for me?’

‘Yes, Captain, in fact I do.’

She paused as Athanasius’s voice drifted across the grass. ‘Septimus? Septimus?’

‘He’s been searching for him,’ Gaius groaned. ‘Knowing these philosophers, Septimus is probably sleeping it off somewhere.’

‘I want you to find Timothaeus,’ Claudia declared. ‘I want to talk with him about the wanderer in the woods.’

‘The old man who was found dead on the track outside the villa?’

‘The same,’ Claudia replied.

As Gaius strode off, Claudia went back to re-examine the bow and quiver and the small pot used to carry fire. She was now genuinely puzzled and intrigued why Narcissus would lie. He had told her he had left the House of Mourning, filled his stomach, drunk too much and gone to sleep it off some distance away. She now believed he was lying and wondered why. But there again, she reflected grimly, she had a number of questions for her new-found friend.

A short while later Gaius came marching back, Timothaeus hastening beside him. The steward looked rather ill and unkempt, his face unshaven, his tunic stained.

‘Sit down on the grass.’

‘It’s wet,’ Timothaeus declared. ‘Haven’t you forgotten, Claudia, it rained last night?’

She shrugged and sat on a marble seat, inviting Gaius to join them.

‘The wanderer in the woods,’ she began. ‘The old man found dead near the villa shortly before the Emperor arrived.’

‘That’s right,’ the steward agreed, blinking wearily. ‘Don’t you remember, Gaius, I came and saw you about him. The old man was a nuisance.’ Timothaeus turned back to Claudia. ‘He wandered the woods and often came to the villa to beg for scraps. He was well known to the farmers around here, though there aren’t many of these left now,’ he added mournfully. ‘I understand our attackers slaughtered everyone who couldn’t flee. We should have crucified those prisoners.’ His fingers flew to his lips. ‘Crucified!’ he muttered. ‘I’m a Christian, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?’

‘Tell me about the wanderer in the woods,’ Claudia insisted.

‘One of the guards found the old man on the track.’ Timothaeus tapped the left side of his face. ‘He had bruises all along here. Sometimes he was drunk, I thought he’d had a fall or fit. Isn’t that right, Gaius?’

The Captain agreed. ‘At any other time,’ he drawled, ‘we would have tossed such a corpse into the undergrowth, but I felt sorry for him. The villa has a burial pit just beyond the eastern wall. I had the corpse taken to the House of Mourning and wrapped in a shroud. Timothaeus here,’ he added sardonically, ‘as a Christian, claimed it was a pious act to bury the dead, say a prayer and pour a libation over the grave.’

‘Are you a Christian,’ Claudia asked Gaius, ‘or any of your family?’

‘Go through the records, Claudia. I didn’t take part in the persecution, but my family are no friends of the Christians. Nevertheless,’ Gaius patted Timothaeus on the shoulder, ‘some I like. Timothaeus is a good fellow. Anyway, my man declared what he had found, and Timothaeus asked for my help. I had the wanderer brought in; his body was dirty, the head all bloodied.’

‘Could he have been murdered?’ Claudia asked.

Gaius made a face. ‘Possibly. But who would want to kill an old man? All I can remember is that he stank worse than a dog pit. The Emperor arrived in the early afternoon, just after we found the body.’ Gaius moved his head from side to side. ‘It was taken to the death house and then the fun began: Dionysius’s murder.’

‘Timothaeus, you said. .’ Claudia paused; she wanted to be precise as possible, ‘you claimed the wanderer in the woods was a nuisance?’

‘Well, he had been for the last few days before he died. Mistress, I don’t know whether he had a fall or was attacked. I had his body taken up because I felt guilty. The old fellow kept knocking at the gate saying he wished to see the Emperor. I told him to bugger off.’ Timothaeus looked wistfully at her. ‘Perhaps I should have been kinder? We didn’t really look at his corpse, did we, Gaius? The soldiers wrapped him in a shroud, no more than a piece of sacking, put it on a stretcher and brought it in.’

‘Is there anything else?’ Gaius asked.

Claudia stared at the ruined House of Mourning.

‘What sort of people were taken there?’

‘Now and again,’ Timothaeus replied, ‘the occasional guest dies. Anybody with family, well, we hold the corpse until kith and kin come and claim it. As for the rest,’ he rubbed his eyes, ‘usually servants, household slaves. They are put there and later buried or burnt.’ He got to his feet. ‘Now, mistress, I have duties, and so does Gaius.’

They both drifted away. Claudia got to her feet and walked over to the sycamore tree where the Emperor had sheltered on the night of the fire. She walked back to examine the remains of the meal strewn on the hard-packed earth. She also noticed how, here and there, the ground had been dug up, but now it was baked hard.

‘Claudia!’

She got to her feet, brushing off the dust, and peeped around a bush. Narcissus was walking up and down, arms flailing. ‘Claudia!’

‘Just the person!’ she whispered. She stepped from behind the bush and tiptoed quietly up to Narcissus, pushing him hard on the shoulder. He whirled round.

‘I’ve been looking for you, Claudia.’

‘And I’ve been looking for you!’ She smiled back. ‘Come, sit and talk with me!’ She patted his arm. ‘I thought I was a good actress but, Narcissus, your acting ability is equal to mine.’

‘What do you mean?’ he spluttered. ‘Claudia, now is not the time for teasing. I want to know where I’m going to live. How long are you staying at the villa?’

‘Never mind that.’ Claudia gestured to the garden seat. ‘I want to talk to you about the wanderer in the woods. No, Narcissus, don’t start trembling or crying. You knew the old man?’

‘Of course,’ he muttered, avoiding her gaze. ‘Everyone knew him. But I’m frightened. Claudia, what happened last night?’

‘You know what happened, Narcissus: the villa was attacked. The beacon lights? You were the one who saw them, weren’t you?’ She noticed how flushed he’d become. ‘The wanderer in the woods, do you think he was murdered?’ She grabbed his wrist and dug her nails in. ‘Don’t lie, Narcissus. You examined his corpse, as you examine all the bodies taken into the House of Mourning. Some of those you don’t dare to touch, but as for others, don’t you practise your embalming skills on them?’

Narcissus refused to reply.

‘Do you know something?’ Claudia continued blithely. ‘I think you’ve been telling me lies about a lot of things.’

‘I. .’

‘Oh, don’t start acting. You’re an embalmer from Syria who became involved in a revolt and were sold into slavery. Yes?’

Narcissus nodded.

‘You were dispatched to Italy and. .’

‘I came here.’

Claudia slapped his face. ‘I’ll slap you again if you lie. I liked you, Narcissus, but I don’t really know who you are. You’ve been at this villa some time, haven’t you? You know people like Timothaeus. You also know me, and you owe me a great deal, so let’s have the truth.’

‘I arrived in Italy,’ Narcissus began slowly. ‘I was put up for sale in Tarentum.’

‘Capua,’ Claudia interrupted. ‘Don’t forget Capua, Narcissus.’

‘Well, yes,’ he continued hastily. ‘I was sold to a farmer who regarded me as next to useless, so I ended up on the slave block, where I was bought by a Christian family.’