‘Just the person I want! You have my walking cane and cloak?’
Narcissus gestured to a shelf behind him.
‘Good,’ Claudia breathed. ‘I’m going home, Narcissus, and you’re coming with me. I’m going to forget Meleager and fall asleep beneath the orchard trees whilst you stand guard over me.’
The sun was beginning to set and the breeze had turned refreshingly cool when Claudia was woken by the sounds of Polybius and Poppaoe preparing the tavern garden for what her uncle proudly termed a ‘midnight feast’. She struggled awake, rubbing her face.
‘I’m too busy to talk to you.’ Polybius wagged a finger. ‘I’ve got Oceanus with some of the local lads guarding the door, otherwise we’ll have half of Rome here. What we’re going to do is feast Murranus, toast his victory, and get as drunk as sots.’
‘Have there been any visitors for me?’ Claudia asked.
‘Visitors?’ Poppaoe came running across the grass, her arms full of crockery. ‘Where’s that bloody table?’ she shouted.
‘Visitors?’ Claudia repeated.
‘I don’t know,’ Poppaoe sighed. ‘We have half of Rome here and you’re talking about visitors?’
Claudia soon realised which way the tide was turning. Poppaoe and Polybius were not only celebrating, but giving vent to their own relief. Polybius adored Murranus, saw him as the son he had always wanted, and during the preparations he kept up a constant commentary about what he had seen in the arena that day. Claudia helped her uncle, bringing out cushions and stools, oil lamps and candles, before going into the kitchen to lend a hand with what Polybius termed ‘a feast for an Emperor’. Oceanus guarded the door and only a few chosen clients were allowed in. Once they were inside, Simon the Stoic and Petronius the Pimp included, Poppaoe immediately grabbed them to help with the preparations.
Dusk had fallen when the shouts and cries from outside signalled that Murranus had returned. He staggered into the eating hall, the victor laurels all crooked on his head, in one hand a silver wine cup and in the other a gold-embossed jug.
‘The Emperor himself gave them to me,’ he slurred. ‘I’m going to marry his mother!’ Then he looked up at the ceiling, rolled his eyes and fell to the floor, sending jug and goblet dancing across the room. Claudia helped take him out to the garden, where he was made comfortable on a makeshift bed of cushions, with Sorry kneeling beside him to waft away the flies.
‘He’ll be all right,’ Polybius shouted. ‘A couple of hours’ sleep and he will be in fine fettle.’
Claudia stayed chatting to Sorry until Poppaoe ushered Sallust the Searcher into the garden.
‘I have news for you.’ He glanced down at the prostrate Murranus. ‘I’d have got it to you sooner, but your man’s to blame, very much the hero of the day.’
Claudia took Sallust down to the vine trellis and listened intently as he reported what his man had found in the town of Capua. When he had finished, she offered to pay him, but the searcher shook his head, gesturing back at the preparations.
‘If Polybius invites me to that, I will consider it a job well done.’
Claudia arranged this with her uncle, and while Poppaoe dragged Sallust off into the kitchen to dice some meat, she went up to her own chamber, took out her writing tray and squatted with her back to the door, listing everything she had learned. She felt certain about her conclusions but wondered what to do next. In the garden below, someone began to sing a soft, lilting song about unrequited love.
‘That’s the cause of it,’ Claudia murmured. ‘Love all twisted turns to hate.’
She made a decision and brought Sorry up to her chamber. She thrust a coin and a small piece of parchment into his hand.
‘You are to go to the palace on the Palatine,’ she insisted. ‘You are to seek out the Captain of the Guard; his name is Gaius Tullius.’ Claudia tapped the piece of parchment.
‘Sorry?’ the boy said.
‘Gaius Tullius. Tell him he is to seek the help of. . Oh, never mind,’ she snapped, ‘you can keep the coin.’
‘Sorry,’ the boy wailed.
‘No, no,’ Claudia replied, ‘it’s a complicated message. I’ll get Sallust to do it. Come on, Sorry, who’s looking after Murranus? We have to get him ready for the feast.’
Murranus woke an hour later to find the banquet prepared and himself the guest of honour. He struggled to his feet, stretching and yawning, and begged for a mug of clear water and would the musicians please not play so loud? In the end the banquet was a great success. Time and again Murranus was questioned, particularly about the agile leap, and only Oceanus could restrain him when he offered to repeat it. Sallust the Searcher came back from the Palatine, whispering to Claudia that tomorrow morning Gaius Tullius would bring Burrus and Timothaeus to the She-Asses tavern.
‘I told him it was important. Urgent business!’
‘Yes, yes, so it is,’ Claudia replied. ‘Come, Sallust,’ she thrust a goblet into his hands, ‘this is a time for celebration.’
The party lasted long into the night. Many of the guests fell asleep on their cushions. Claudia was careful what she ate and drank. She just sat and watched as Murranus was toasted and hailed as a champion. One question which did strike a chord with her was why the Emperor had shown mercy to Meleager. She had reflected on this time and again after she had left the arena, but of course, there was no one here close to the imperial family who could tell her; well, at least not until tomorrow. Eventually she kissed Murranus good night and went to her own chamber, where she lay on her bed half listening to the revelry from the garden, going over everything she had learned about those hideous murders at the Villa Pulchra. She had trapped Agrippina; now she wondered if she could do the same with the assassin. Time and again she had listed the evidence.
‘First Sisium, secondly fire in the sky, thirdly ropes, fourthly Capua, fifthly the silent walker, sixthly silence and stealth.’ She kept murmuring these words until she fell fast asleep.
She woke just after dawn, and peering through the shutters she could tell the day would be beautiful. She stripped, washed and dressed and raced down the stairs to the kitchen, where she had some bread and olives and a jug of rather weak ale. Oceanus was already up, beginning to clear the rubbish from the garden as well as rouse the various customers who had fallen asleep in the most surprising places. Simon the Stoic was found in the small vineyard, lying on the pebble path, as comfortable and relaxed as if it was a feather mattress. Petronius the Pimp and two of his girls were deep in the orchard, fast asleep, backs to a tree. Oceanus woke them all up with a dash of water to their faces and a vigorous shake on the shoulder.
‘Where’s Murranus?’ Claudia asked.
Oceanus pointed with his thumb. ‘Fast asleep in the Venus Chamber. Why?’
‘I’m expecting visitors,’ she confided.
‘Oh, no!’ the ex-gladiator groaned. ‘Polybius is already grumbling about you using his garden as a council chamber.’
‘Well, this is the last time. When my visitors arrive I want you to bring out jugs of wine, water, some fresh bread and sliced fruit. You’ll find them in the kitchen. Afterwards, go and rouse Uncle and Murranus; they must arm themselves.’
Oceanus grabbed her by the shoulders.
‘No, Oceanus, you listen. I want these visitors to come in unsuspecting. However, once you have served the food, you must fetch Polybius and Murranus. Polybius has a bow and a quiver of arrows somewhere. He must find these and be prepared to use them. Finally, nobody, and I mean nobody, comes out to this garden without my permission.’
Oceanus, surprised, faithfully promised that he would do what Claudia asked. She went round the garden just to make sure no other customers were sleeping off last night’s wine, before bringing out cushions so that her visitors could sit in the shade of the trees. The sun was now high, and noises echoed from the streets beyond. Poppaoe came out all a-bustle, asking Claudia what the matter was. Her niece kissed her on the cheeks, politely asked her to mind her own business and repeated what she had said to Oceanus. Then she returned to her own chamber and fetched a dagger and a walking stick, which she brought to the garden and hid under a pile of cushions. She sat there, legs crossed, a linen cloth over her knees as she collected daisies and began to tie them into a chain.