Virgin Territory (3 page)

‘Which reminds me, Fabius.’

The soldier spun on his heel. ‘Yes?’

‘Would you be so kind as to arrange a couple of sacrifices for me? Two white bulls—that’s one for Neptune, one for Jupiter—and something nice for the Tempestates while you’re at it.’

‘
White
bulls? They cost a fortune!’

‘Then it’s as well you’re only shelling out for two, isn’t it?’

He didn’t look particularly happy as he set off down the sidestreet indicated by the vendor.

Munching on her pie and careless of where the gravy dribbled, Claudia gestured over a litter. If that marblehead thought she was accustomed to walking up and down wharfs, he was very much mistaken. Where she came from, ladies travelled in vehicles which reflected their station in life.

Heaving Drusilla and her family into the litter and wiping her greasy hands on a cushion, she began to have serious misgivings about this whole wretched enterprise. What sort of family were the Collatinuses, for heaven’s sake, expecting their womenfolk to
walk
? Before instructing the bearers to move on, she prayed to whatever spurious gods they worshipped in this isolated land that it was simply Fabius who was unused to a civilian lifestyle. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck with a family of misers!

‘One other thing, Fabius.’ She poked her head through the curtains as the litter came alongside.

‘Oh?’ There was more than a hint of concern in his voice.

‘Mmm. The woman at your elbow. That’s your sister, Sabina. Since you forgot to ask…’

I
II

Despite the innkeeper having only one eye, Claudia could not really fault the establishment. It was neither verminous nor damp, which was more than you could say for most city taverns, and was far less of a fire hazard than it appeared from the outside.

Within seconds of Claudia returning from dinner feeling a whole new woman now the incrustations of salt had been scraped away, there was a knock on her door. The wine—

‘Hi! Remember me?’

The fuzz of red hair and Sicilian burr were unmistakable. Claudia slammed the door, wondering whether the fortune teller’s eager face would pull back before woodwork actually connected with nose, but a hand shot out of the blackness and the door bounced off it. Well, not a hand, really. More a paw. And a damned big one at that.

Claudia’s eyes followed it up the arm to the gorilla on the other end. Really, she thought. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she’d never have believed life could be that cruel.

‘That’s Utti,’ the redhead explained. ‘He’s my brother.’

‘How lovely for you.’ Claudia found the door wouldn’t budge. She pointed to the ham propping it open. ‘Would you mind?’

‘Huh?’

It speaks, it speaks.

‘The door, Utti. Would you please remove your grubby fist.’

‘Uh…’ It glanced down at the redhead, who was dwarfed by its presence.

‘No, wait!’ It was more of a plea. ‘You’re in danger, great danger—’

‘So are you. There are four tough guys standing right behind you.’

The redhead smiled cheerfully. ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘Utti’s a wrestler.’

Claudia’s bodyguard, no slouches themselves, would be no match for a good professional. ‘Come to the point,’ she snapped.

The girl’s face took on a pained expression, about as genuine as her hair and her bosom. ‘There’s no point to come to. You’re in danger, and we’re here to help. Oh, I’m Tanaquil, by the way.’

‘And I’m very sorry. Now run along, there’s a good girl.’

Utti had been forced to remove his hand when he turned to face out the bodyguard, so Claudia smartly shut the door. Almost immediately there was a second knock.

‘What?’ She flung it open.

A struggle was in progress, in which three men had been pinned to the ground—and Utti wasn’t one of them. Tanaquil seemed totally oblivious to the clouds of dust and flying furniture, to the shouts and the grunts and the blood.

‘You’re going to Sullium, aren’t you? Well, I told you
I saw a ram’s head. Eugenius Collatinus is in wool, isn’t he?’

Is he? Since Sicily was one of the four great granaries of Rome, Claudia had blithely assumed he was in wheat.

‘Fabius said so,’ Tanaquil continued happily. ‘And he also says his grandfather is planning a wedding for Sabina, so you
must
believe me now!’

Claudia wrenched her eyes off Utti, who was kneeling on Junius’s stomach and punching one of the Nubians while he kicked at the other. Idly she wondered whether he’d noticed the Cilician, Kleon, clinging to his back.

‘Tanaquil,’ she said calmly, ‘I don’t care whether you spend your leisure hours staring into the future or staring into the bottom of an empty wine glass. I neither want nor need the services of a fortune teller.’

The redhead wagged a playful finger. ‘That’s what you think,’ she said, ‘but don’t worry, you’ll hardly know I’m about.’

Claudia winced as Kleon dug his fingers into Utti’s eyes, then winced harder as Utti casually shook him off like an old cloak and the boy went bouncing down the staircase.

‘Even Utti will be on his best behaviour.’

‘He’s not behaving very nicely with my bodyguard.’

Tanaquil turned round. ‘Oh, is that who they are? Sorry.’ She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. ‘Utti, they’re friends,’ she said. ‘Friends. Yes. Put them down.’

The gorilla’s mouth formed a wide O and he clambered to his feet, pulling Junius up with one hand and one of the Nubians with the other. The second Nubian was still unconscious. All five were covered with blood.

‘Horry.’

Claudia mouthed, ‘Cleft palate?’

‘Broken nose, but don’t worry, he’s used to it.’

‘Obviously. Well, goodbye, dear. Goodbye, Utti. Pleasure to have met you both.’

The big ugly lump smiled so broadly you could see both his teeth. ‘Bye!’

‘Not goodbye, silly, good
night
!’

Irrepressible little thing, wasn’t she?

Tanaquil leaned towards Claudia. ‘He’s ever so excited about meeting the family. We’ve never stayed with posh people before.’

‘Then he’s in for a big disappointment. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. You’re not coming with me.’

This was not open to discussion. Claudia slammed the door shut and leaned her weight against it until all went quiet on the landing, then she threw herself down on the couch.

Straight away there was a rat-a-tat-tat.

Heaven help us. ‘Go away.’

A second, louder rap followed.

‘Can’t you get it through your thick skull you’re not wanted. Now GO AWAY!’

After half an hour she decided she’d waited long enough. ‘Landlord, where’s the wine I ordered?’

He shrugged. ‘I sent it up.’

‘Lie to me once again, you thieving vermin, and I’ll poke your other eye out.’

He had an odd sense of humour, finding that funny. ‘Gods’ honour,’ he said. ‘Dodger took it.’

‘I did.’ A small, swarthy, bandy-legged Sicilian came stumping up. ‘You sent me away,’ he said accusingly. ‘Twice.’

‘Don’t try to wriggle out of it!’ Claudia fixed him with a scowl. Small wonder they called him Dodger. ‘Just fetch the wine.’

Across the room, Drusilla extricated herself from the heaving mass of kittenhood and stretched every joint to its limit before making her way over to Claudia. She’d spent the last leg of the voyage sprawled on her side in a haze of pure bliss as four minuscule bundles of fur sucked and squeaked and snuggled and dozed—but now, like all good mothers, she recognized you could take only so much of a good thing.

‘I saved you a lump of boiled calf, poppet.’ Claudia broke the cold meat into pieces and fed them to her one at a time. ‘Tougher than we’re used to, but for a busy tavern it’s not too bad.’

When Drusilla had eaten her fill, Claudia began stroking the cat’s dark brown, glossy coat. ‘You heard the outcome, I suppose?’

‘Prrr.’

‘Exactly. Talk about lumbered!’

Tanaquil had lost no time in ingratiating herself with Sabina and had now wormed her way into going to Sullium.

‘I can’t imagine what she hopes to gain from it.’ Fabius wasn’t going to part with his brass (just look at the fuss he’d made about reimbursing the landlord for damages!) and Sabina didn’t look as though she knew what money was.

‘Perhaps that’s the idea?’

Squinty eyes closed in pleasure as the rhythmic massage smoothed away loose strands of fur.

‘Perhaps she’s hoping Sabina will cough up without question?’

Enlightenment would come swiftly enough. Vesta’s little playmate was so far out of touch, she’d have to seek advice from her brother. All that Claudia could see happening was for Tanaquil to be stranded along the south coast, along with that galloping great oaf Utti.

Her fingers moved up to tickle Drusilla’s ears and in response paws began to knead soft dough on Claudia’s lap.

‘What do you make of Fabius, then?’

My, how he’d squirmed when Claudia introduced him to his long-lost sister! On the run-up to forty and newly released from two decades in the army, he found women every inch as baffling as the civilian life he was thrust back into. His mission had been to escort Claudia Seferius to Sullium and this he had undertaken with organized zeal. No doubt had his orders been to escort Sabina back to Sullium, Claudia would have been equally excluded, but even so—

‘Rrrrrr.’

‘No, poppet, hardly a touching reunion.’

‘Sabina?’ he’d said, his jaw dropping. ‘Holy Mars, you’re nothing like the chubby kid who left home.’

The woman’s reply transcended belief. ‘I thought you’d be older,’ she said.

Give me strength!

Claudia leaned back in her chair and up-ended the jug of wine as Drusilla curled into a ball on her left breast, secure in the support of her mistress’s arm. What to make of Sabina, that was the question. Quiet was an understatement. Excruciatingly polite, Sabina rarely spoke unless spoken to, and then it was only to utter spooky statements in that toneless voice of hers. For instance, at their initial introduction, before the
Furrina
had a chance to unfurl her sails, she had said, without preamble and certainly without irony:

‘I have seen you many times.’

Oh, really?

But before Claudia could frame the other question hovering on her lips, Sabina continued, ‘You are a cat and I know your ways. The chase, the play, the pounce. You see in the dark.’

Terrible thing, nerves. Especially before a long and arduous journey. Sends you reaching for all manner of drugs.

Unfortunately, after a day or two, Claudia began to have a dragging feeling in her stomach and an overriding wish that if only it were that simple! She tried. Honestly, could anyone have tried harder? But trying to converse with Sabina was like drawing teeth: impossible without the right tool, and whatever might be required to open the woman up, Claudia didn’t possess it. Instead, Sabina would creep up on her and that strange monotone would swing into action.

‘I have witnessed mountains split asunder,’ she would say, ‘spilling rivers of blood and drowning the land. I have witnessed fingers turn to claws and skin turn to feathers as men and women took the form of vultures and tore each other to pieces.’

That wasn’t all. Her favourite theme was invisibility, how she could make herself disappear at will and no one was any the wiser…

Drusilla shifted her position and began to snore softly against her mistress’s ear, cheerfully blocking out the neighing and the shouts and the clatter of hooves from the yard outside as a runaway horse was cornered.

‘It’s difficult to say whether she’s mad or not.’

Her movements were careful, yet not too precise; elegant, without appearing rehearsed. At first Claudia blamed the contents of the little blue flagon. Drink or drugs, it had to be the answer. However, when Sabina fell asleep one afternoon she examined it and found it completely empty. Not so much as one tiny droplet inside. No smell, nothing. It was exactly as it appeared to be—an empty blue bottle.

Where did that leave her?

Had Sabina been born insane, she’d have been smothered or put to the sword because, like it or not, this was the norm. Rome needed to breed healthy, strong and perfect citizens or the empire would be weakened, and any disabilities—mental or physical—were eliminated at birth. With someone like Sabina, the signs might not have been so easy to detect, but there was little compunction in snuffing out a sickly life, even at the age of five or six.

What was going on here?

That Claudia was involved in an elaborate hoax was obvious, but who was the perpetrator? Surely not this strange, ethereal creature? Odd by any standards, yet as far as Claudia could determine, Sabina seemed totally without guile and for a woman practically old enough to be her mother, she behaved more like a small child. Or no. Rather a docile, domesticated pet… Carefully, so as not to disturb Drusilla, Claudia positioned her glass on the floor, but the cat woke on the first movement, instantly alert for the safety of her brood. Satisfied they were still sleeping soundly and could manage a little longer without her, she began to wash, her purring vibrating all the way down Claudia’s breastbone.