The under-steward soon had them all organised, aided and abetted by some of the guards. The day was a fine one, they had little to do and all were eager to earn the reward. Once they’d left, Claudia went to the cellar and the House of Mourning, studying them carefully before going back to the kitchen, with Narcissus trailing behind like a ghost. They sat outside in the small courtyard and divided the food between them. Claudia ate and listened as Narcissus described how he would work at the She-Asses in preparation for his return to the embalming trade.
‘There’ll be plenty of custom for you,’ Claudia remarked drily, ‘amongst those who live near the Flavian Gate, though I’m not too sure how you’ll get paid.’
Narcissus, however, would not be deflected, but gave a dramatic account of how Polybius might lend him the money and even be his business partner. He chattered so quickly that Claudia wondered if he was nervous about what she might know. She swilled the wine round her cup. She had begged it from the cask man in the kitchens, who was too busy, as he’d put it, ‘to go out with the rest and get involved in childish games’. Claudia noticed a fly floating on the top of the wine. She plucked this out and wiped other specks from the not-so-clean goblet. She stirred the wine with her finger but didn’t wipe it dry, so it became sticky. She rubbed it, looking at the hardened whitish grains, and recalled sitting beside Spicerius’s corpse the previous evening.
‘That’s it!’ she exclaimed.
‘What is?’
‘Never mind,’ Claudia replied and leaning back against the wall, she stared at the white doves on the red tower roof across the courtyard.
The heat grew intense, so they moved into the gardens to enjoy the coolness of their shade near a bubbling water fountain. The under-steward found them there; he was hot, rather dusty and none too pleased with what had been found.
‘There wasn’t much,’ he grumbled. ‘You’d best see for yourself.’
The rest of the servants were gathered in the stable courtyard and had laid their finds on a sheet stretched across the cobbles. There were pieces of strapping, a buckle, a weather-worn sheath, a javelin head, and even the rather battered handle of a sword, as well as scraps of leather and armoury. Claudia sifted through them. Some of the items must have been there for years, but others were clearly remains from the recent attack. She made sure that they had searched the area she had described. The servants, red-faced and perspiring, all loudly agreed that they had pushed their way through bracken and gorse but found very little. Claudia thanked them, and handed over the five silver pieces and one more. She also authorised the under-steward to draw wine and food from the stores and feast at the villa’s expense all those who had searched.
It was well past noon, but despite Narcissus’s grumbles, Claudia decided it was cool enough to return to the city. They had an uneventful journey back, joining a convoy of wine merchants who’d heard about the games and were hastening to Rome in the hope of greater profit. The She-Asses was almost deserted. Claudia went up to her own chamber, took out a small writing casket and, as if she was listing items to buy, wrote down everything she’d discovered. Then she slept for a while, going down to join a taciturn Polybius for the evening meal. Her uncle announced mournfully that Murranus had decided to stay at the gladiator school, determined to train for the coming conflict.
The mood of the tavern had changed. The wine had worn off, the excitement had soured. Many of the customers secretly suspected Murranus had been trapped, his chances of victory greatly reduced. Claudia knew she would have to wait. She had gambled on Sallust the Searcher making a quick discovery, but it wasn’t until the following evening that he slipped into the tavern. Despite the warm weather, he still wore his cloak, and insisted on speaking to Claudia out in the garden, where no one could see or hear them. Only then did he undo the cloak and hand across the bundle.
‘I think that’s what you’re looking for?’ He smiled, winked at her and got to his feet. ‘I don’t want to stay; after all, my boys and I could be accused of robbing a tomb.’ His smile widened. ‘Your suspicions were correct.’
‘And the other business?’ Claudia asked.
‘I’m afraid that’ll take more time. Everyone is excited about the coming games. It’s hard to sift the wheat from the chaff and so discover the truth.’
Claudia thanked him, and the searcher left, pausing in the tavern for a jug of beer. Claudia made sure Narcissus wasn’t about and went to her chamber. She opened the bundle to check its contents, then hid it under her bed and hurried down to the kitchen, where Narcissus was helping Poppaoe. Claudia asked him to go to the Palatine with one of the tavern boys to inform Timothaeus the steward that she must see him urgently on a matter concerning the Empress. Polybius came in as Narcissus made to object.
‘I think you should go,’ Polybius declared. ‘It’s the least you can do for someone you owe so much.’
Grumbling under his breath, Narcissus took his staff, put on his sandals and left with a little tavern boy whom everyone called ‘Sorry’ because that was all the lad would say as he pushed himself through the throng to serve a customer.
‘You’re excited.’ Polybius put his hand under Claudia’s chin. ‘Your face is slightly flushed, eyes bright as polished buttons.’
‘Uncle, I would like you to do me a favour. What’s on the menu today?’
‘Same as yesterday,’ Polybius pulled a face, ‘and last week. Fish, sausage and vegetables, though we are serving some fruit.’
‘I want you to serve me and my guests something tasty out in the garden. Narcissus and Timothaeus the steward will appreciate your cooking. I also want a bucket of sand and a kitchen knife.’
Polybius, intrigued, replied with a stream of questions, but Claudia only laughed, shook her head and walked away.
Noon had come and gone by the time Narcissus brought a red-faced, perspiring Timothaeus into the She-Asses. Claudia greeted the steward warmly, introduced him to everybody and then, winking at her uncle, took her guests out to the orchard. Polybius had put out a small blanket on the ground; the bucket of sand and kitchen knife were half hidden behind the stone seat. Timothaeus was full of bluster and questioning, and protested at being pulled away from his busy duties, but a goblet of Polybius’s finest white wine and a platter of freshly caught fish took the edge off his temper. Narcissus, however, was much more watchful. Claudia wondered if someone in the tavern had warned him of her preparations. For a while they discussed the coming games. Timothaeus explained how Murranus’s boast was known all over the palace. ‘The bets are being laid,’ he exclaimed, ‘and people are already buying up the best seats. The master of the school of gladiators has been to see Rufinus to organise the events. They say everyone in Rome who matters will be there; they are talking of a fight to the death, and whoever goes down,’ he added darkly, ‘is staying down. Oh, by the way, the Augusta sends her warmest greetings, as does Chrysis. Burrus said he hasn’t forgotten what you did for him, though the Empress,’ he added shrewdly, ‘is still full of questions about what you should do for her.’
‘I’m glad you’ve finished your food.’ Claudia sat cross-legged and smiled dazzlingly at Timothaeus. ‘You see, gentlemen, I have found the Holy Sword!’
She needed all the training of her acting career to keep her face straight. Narcissus almost choked on a plum and had to spit it out, while the goblet slipped from Timothaeus’s hand. Claudia caught it deftly and put it on the grass beside her. Narcissus began to shake as if at the onset of a sudden fever; all colour drained from Timothaeus’s face.
‘You’re not going to faint, are you?’ Claudia teased. ‘That’s something both of you are very good at, fainting. Oh, and don’t start jumping to your feet, please; the less that people know, the better.’