Queen of the Night (24 page)

'My mistress agrees,' Leartus spoke up, 'but there is one further problem. You say,' the eunuch paused to gather his thoughts, 'you say the attackers came from Rome, that they waited for their victims in that copse. The attack was launched, Alexander was killed, but what happened then?'

Murranus tapped the side of his head. 'I received a blow here, I was weak, I fell from my horse but managed to fight my way to my feet, otherwise they'd have killed me. To them I was still dangerous. I remember the sound of a horn, and those attackers who'd survived fled, but I recall them taking their fallen. I picked up Alexander, but realised he was dead. I put his body over a horse and brought him back to the villa, then I collapsed, and the rest you know.'

'The corpses!' Claudia exclaimed. 'Your Excellency, if this gang intended to kill Alexander and Murranus from the start, as well as their own members, where are the corpses of the attackers? Murranus glimpsed them being taken away. True, those who survived could ride towards the great highway leading into Rome, mingle with the crowds and become lost, but corpses are very difficult to hide.'

'What do you suggest?'

'Those clumps of trees,' Claudia replied. 'Excellency, please allow me to send Burrus down there. We need to search thoroughly once again. Perhaps the corpses are still there, hidden away. If we discover them, we might be able to identify who they were, where they came from, some clue to this mystery'

Constantine, excited, quickly refilled his cup. He slurped noisily, nodding in agreement.

'In which case,' Helena declared, 'we shall adjourn.' She called to Burrus to take his men down to the copse of trees where the attack had taken place and search the ground thoroughly for any trace of the earth being dug. 'You are looking for corpses,' Helena emphasised.

'In this heat,' Burrus bowed, 'the stink, never mind the flies, will lead us to them.'

Once Burrus had left, Helena turned back. 'This is not good,' she whispered shaking her head. 'This is not at all good! Lady Urbana, please, once again accept our condolences. Murranus, you shall stay here. Claudia, you too, while I consider what is to happen. In the mean time,' she rose to her feet while everyone hastened to follow suit, then grasped Claudia roughly by the shoulder, her nails digging into her skin, 'let us hope you are correct, little mouse, that this is the last of the abductions. I want the truth. Whoever is behind this shall die a death all of Rome will marvel at.' The Empress swept out, followed by her son, still gulping from his goblet.

Claudia turned to Lady Urbana and clasped her hands, expressing her own deep regrets and condolences. Urbana was pale-faced, her eyes red-rimmed. She nodded but couldn't resist rounding on Murranus.

'You promised to protect my son,' she hissed, 'but he was killed! Because of his death, I lost my husband. What can I say to you?' She shrugged and walked away.

Cassia and Leartus came up. Although she too had been grieving, Cassia still looked exquisitely beautiful. She caught Claudia's face in her hands, kissed her gently on each cheek then trailed her fingers down Murranus' arm in a gesture of friendship before signalling at Leartus to follow her. Claudia watched them go. Murranus, overcome by weakness, sat down quickly, putting his face in his hands.

'It's not true,' Claudia whispered. 'Murranus, it isn't your fault. Look…'

Murranus took his hands away.

'It's not true what Urbana said,' Claudia insisted. 'No one could have expected that. We've been dealing with abductions, young men and women being kidnapped, not brutal assault and savage murder!' She shook her head. 'I cannot understand what is happening,' she continued. 'Everything is shrouded in mystery and lies. But come, Murranus,' she forced a smile, 'keep up your strength.'

She helped him up and insisted that he return to his chamber. She made him comfortable on the bed, sitting on a stool, stroking his face with the tips of her fingers. Murranus tried to talk, but his eyes grew heavy and soon he was asleep. Claudia left him. She felt coldly angry, not just at Helena's public disdain or Urbana's grief and provocative remarks; she and Murranus had been trapped. She was now certain that the abductors had intended all along to kill young Alexander. They'd journeyed from Rome to achieve that, but why? To show their contempt for the Empress? Revenge at Helena's interference in their affairs through Chaerea? Or, as she suspected, to get rid of their own followers?

Claudia sat on the steps to one of the side entrances of the villa and thought about Secundus and Crispus, two more deaths demanding vengeance and justice. She rose to her feet and made her way across to the villa baths. The bloody mess caused by the two killings had been cleared away, the water in the square bath drained off. Claudia studied the tiled floor around the pool and noticed the fragments of pottery pushed between tiles or heaped in niches where the wall met the floor. She went outside and, using her authority, dispatched a servant to fetch Casca the

Physician. She waited in the coolness of the portico until the physician, ill pleased that he'd been taken away from his morning meal, came hurrying up. Claudia apologised for the inconvenience caused.

'Look,' she continued, 'when the corpses of those two veterans were discovered, you were summoned?'

'Yes.' Casca sat down wearily on the ledge beside her. 'A servant girl, curious about a half-opened door, went in and saw the horror.'

'And then?'

'I and the steward were summoned. We found both corpses floating in the pool.' 'Anything else?' 'Blood everywhere.' 'And?'

Casca pulled a face. 'Ah yes, there was a pot smashed. Why?'

Claudia stared out across the lawn. Slaves were now out watering the grass, peacocks shrieked, birds flew over the flowerbeds, across which butterflies lazily floated. A pleasant rustic scene, one much loved by the poet Horace and the naturalist Pliny; such a contrast to the grisly mayhem committed here.

'Mistress?' Casca asked.

'Two veterans were killed,' she replied slowly, 'seasoned soldiers, wily warriors. They must have been ambushed by someone they least expected. Despite the warnings they'd been given, they let their guard slip. I suspect the killer was a woman. Secundus, I understand, came here first. He sat down and waited for Crispus. Old soldiers don't like work. Secundus certainly wouldn't begin without his companion. He'd also been shocked by the change in his circumstances, summoned from Rome, interviewed by the old general. Anyway, he is in the atrium half dozing, a woman enters the baths. It is around dawn, the light in the atrium is poor. She is carrying a jar. Secundus doesn't give her a second glance. She goes into the pool chamber and drops the pot. Secundus, startled, hurries up and walks straight on to the waiting dagger. A short while later Crispus enters, half asleep. He stumbles up the steps, is startled by the horror floating in the pool. He attempts to flee, and when he turns, the assassin is waiting. Again a swift thrust to the belly'

'You are sure it was a woman?'

'I am certain.' Claudia smiled at him. 'Just like the other murders. Do you think it is possible, Casca?'

The physician spread his hands. 'Under the sun, Claudia, anything is possible. Yes,' he gestured with his hand, 'look around at this villa, people coming and going.'

'The old general,' Claudia asked, 'you truly liked him?'

'You know my thoughts.'

'And the Lady Urbana?'

'You met Lady Urbana, very much the Pontifex Maximus, very much in charge. She was as devoted to Aurelian as he was to her, though they went their separate ways. The General was writing his memoirs. You know how old soldiers are. Lady Urbana was immersed in all things Christian, particularly the cult of the Magdalena. She sent messengers to Gaul. She was going to write her own history of the cult. They didn't really work for their living, not like us. The General had his routine: every morning he rose, he bathed, ate and entertained, then he'd go into the library to write his memoirs. The only time he'd leave would be to talk to Alexander.' Casca got to his feet, i must go.' He smiled down at her. i have to keep an eye on Lady Urbana, she is not well, and the Lady Cassia too.'

'Did General Aurelian like her? I mean the Lady Cassia?'

'Oh yes, very much.' Casca paused, choosing his words carefully. 'I've not met a man who was not attracted to her. She and Leartus? Well, they are more one person than two. Cassia is kind and gracious whilst Leartus is very courteous, a fountain of knowledge when it comes to medicine, perfumes and the different herbs that are grown. Anyway, Claudia, if you want to know more about General Aurelian, go to the library, his memoirs are there. Ask the librarian, he'll help.'

'Oh, Casca?'

The physician paused on the steps.

'You dressed the corpses of those two veterans for burial?' 'Yes, yes, I did.' Casca grimaced.

'As a physician,' Claudia rose to her feet and came down the steps, 'who or what would cause such abominations?'

Casca tapped his forehead lightly. 'I've told you, Claudia, what happens here is a true mystery.' He came closer. 'But I tell you this, whoever killed those veterans truly, truly hated them!'

Claudia watched him go, then made her way back into the villa. The old librarian was only too willing to help. He sat her down at the table under the window at the far end, asking if she had enough light. Claudia smiled up at him.

'I have enough to read by,' she said. 'Is it possible for me to see the General's memoirs?'

The librarian brought them across as if they were sacred objects from a temple. He laid the collection of scrolls, each carefully numbered, on the table.

'The General wrote them clearly in his own hand,' he explained, 'to be copied out later by me.'

Uninvited, he sat down on a stool at the side of the table and watched curiously as Claudia untied the scrolls. She'd seen the like before. General Aurclian was no different from any veteran officer describing his campaigns in Britain and elsewhere: his opinions about fortifications, troop movements, the defences of the Empire. Claudia moved to the last scroll, undid it and went through it carefully. The General had a neat, precise hand, marking each turn of events with a new paragraph and writing in the margin what each section was about. Again, he was full of all the woes of empire: the weakness caused by civil war, the need to strengthen the army, rebuild the navy, protect the Corn Fleet from Egypt, items that were discussed daily in the forum and elsewhere. There were sections about his family, notably Alexander; another about Christianity, which Aurelian tolerated with good-natured humour. Claudia could find nothing remarkable or significant. She rolled up the scroll and handed it back to the librarian.

'What were you looking for?' the man asked.

'Nothing,' Claudia replied absent-mindedly, 'nothing at all really.'

The librarian moved away. Claudia sat, elbows on the table, staring down the library. She wondered when Burrus would return. She was about to leave when the door at the far end opened and a figure entered. She narrowed her eyes as she recognised the careful walk of Presbyter Sylvester.

'Ah, Claudia,' he called out, 'I've been looking for you. Come, I've something to show you.'

He led her out of the library, down a gallery and into a small garden, where he took her over to a flower-ringed arbour and made himself comfortable beside her.

'You are well, Claudia?'

'You know what's happening,' she replied. 'The Empress is angry. I've made no progress.'

'But I have.' Sylvester picked up the leather satchel he'd been carrying, opened it and took out a dog-eared, yellowing manuscript which he placed in her lap. 'You may keep that.' He smiled, it's rather battered old copy of Celsus' De Medicina. Now,' Sylvester crossed his arms and continued conversationally, 'Celsus wasn't a physician but a keen observer of human beings. He was a contemporary of Plutarch; he lived about two hundred years ago. He has a marvellous appendix in his work about the death of Alexander the Great in Babylon. He quotes all the sources, Diodorus Siculus, Justin, Arrian and the rest…'

'Presbyter Sylvester, what has this got to do-' 'Listen,' he replied, 'Alexander died at the height of summer in Babylon. Immediately fighting broke out amongst his leading commanders about who would succeed him. A real crisis developed. Alexander's corpse was left unattended for at least a week. When the Babylonian and Egyptian embalmers finally managed to reach it, they found it marvellously preserved.'

Claudia felt a chill. This was not about the hideous crimes committed in this villa, but Uncle Polybius' Great Miracle.

'Now the same sources,' Presbyter Sylvester continued, 'emphasise Alexander's deity by pointing to the fact that, despite the intense heat, corruption hadn't begun. The same authors also provide a detailed summary of Alexander's death at a private banquet some nine or ten days before. They list the symptoms: nausea, violent pain, stomach cramps and high fever. Celsus believes Alexander was poisoned. The great commander had just returned from fighting on the borders of India, where there is a potion, arsenic, which in small doses can also be used to treat stomach pains and even serve as an aphrodisiac. This intrigued me, Claudia, so I read Celsus, Plutarch and other commentators avidly. Arsenic is also a powerful poison, which comes in many forms and colours. Its effect is deadly, but it also slows down, and even stops, the process of decomposition and corruption. Certain symptoms become apparent. If the corpse isn't burned on a pyre, a yellowing of the skin ensues which could appear slightly golden; the corpse also exudes a powder, a thin coating of dust. So, Claudia,' he paused, 'the blessed Fulgentia, I believe, has a great deal in common with Alexander the Great. The Empress and her son have most generously bestowed certain buildings to serve as our churches in Rome. I was,' Sylvester smiled, 'or rather I am, preparing a sarcophagus for the Blessed Fulgentia. Helena regards her as a holy virgin martyr.'