The Queen of the Night

'The best of both worlds.' Torquatus gri

'I know what you want.' Claudia sipped at the apple juice. Torquatus, moon-faced under his matted, straw-coloured hair, gazed back all i

'I did lend Polybius money,' Torquatus interrupted. 'He heard of my recent business venture.' 'What was it?'

'To import spices from Punt-' 'Ye gods!'

'The venture was not successful; our ship sank. Polybius owed me his share, I advanced that for him.'

'And now you think you have my uncle cornered?' Claudia demanded. She stared at this most skilful teller of tales. She'd always liked Torquatus, a character of the quarter, ever friendly and cheerful with his never-ending list of tales and a catalogue of medical cures which even an imperial physician would envy. She immediately regretted her words when she saw the look of hurt in Torquatus' eyes.

'Claudia, Claudia.' Torquatus took a deep drink of his wine before adding some water. 'You're tired. I know you have other business.'

He gazed at her meaningfully, and Claudia wondered if he was also employed by the Empress.

'Your uncle doesn't owe me any money. He's paid it back, thanks to the Great Miracle at the She Asses.'

Claudia sighed with relief. 'I am sorry!' She put her hand across the table. 'Torquatus, you know Polybius; he's attracted to mischief as a cat to cream.'

Torquatus clasped her hand gently. 'Of course, I would love to own the She Asses. It's in a prime location, it has a good eating room with a well-furnished kitchen and a garden that's even better than this. However, Polybius has repaid every single denarius. He owes me nothing, thanks to the Great Miracle.'

Claudia sat back in her seat and stared at the shadows lengthening across the grass.

'But of course Polybius,' Torquatus continued, 'literally jumps from pot to fire and back into the pot again. You've heard about Ophelion?'

Claudia suppressed a shiver of fear and sat up straight. Of course she knew Ophelion! He was one of Helena's most trusted spies, a snooper, a collector of trifles, a born eavesdropper, sharp of eye and keen of wit.

'What about him?' she asked tersely.

'Well, he's been snooping around.' Torquatus leaned closer. 'He has been making very careful enquiries about the corpse found at your uncle's tavern.'

'But you know the result,' Claudia declared. 'The Empress herself has paid Polybius; she recognised the body as that belonging to a virgin martyr, a manifest miracle by God.'

Torquatus gri

'What has Ophelion been asking?' Claudia asked.

'The usual questions,' Torquatus replied. 'He is digging in the past, any young girl around here who disappeared, you know how it is…'

Claudia bit her lip and watched the butterflies hovering near the fountain. 'But that is ridiculous,' she murmured. 'Young women disappear from the slums every month and no one cares.'

'I am not concerned about those,' Torquatus replied quickly. 'All Ophelion needs is to find one. You must remember, Claudia, the authorities now have their corpse, and they will examine it carefully.'

Claudia finished the fresh apple juice,- she was going to take a sip of wine but changed her mind. 'Can you help me, Torquatus?'

'Any way I can.'

'You seem to know a great deal about medicine.' Claudia edged closer. 'Is there any logical explanation for what Venutus discovered?'

'I've thought of that myself.' Torquatus ran his finger round the rim of his cup. i ca

Claudia finished her drink, thanked Torquatus and left the tavern. She found the She Asses rather quiet; it was still daytime, and many of the usual customers were either busy about their usual mischief, sleeping off what they'd drunk during the day or waiting until dark so they could slip through the street without being spotted by some sharp-eyed Vigiles who might remember a misdemeanour they'd committed. The eating room was swept and clean-smelling, the ovens in the kitchens cold. Januaria the servant girl sat on the steps leading into the garden,- she declared that Poppaoe and Polybius had retired against the heat of the day. Claudia was about to go up to her own chamber when Januaria called her name and pointed down the garden.

'I am sorry, mistress, you have two visitors.'

Claudia found Sallust the Searcher sitting under the shade of a tree sharing a jug of spiced wine with a squat, thickset man seated across the table opposite him. Sallust looked the same as ever, dressed in shabby, dusty clothes; he had a lined face under a shock of white hair, his tired, rheumy eyes forced a smile, while his podgy nose sniffed the air as if he was still searching for something. Sallust, however, was not what he looked,- he was in fact a very prosperous searcher-out-of-things, a man who could find anything in Rome if he was paid enough. He had backed the wrong side in the recent civil war between Constantine and Maxentius, but due to Polybius and Claudia had regained imperial favour. With his extended family, Sallust had amassed a fortune which was belied by his personal appearance, his austere eating habits and his shabby attire.

The Searcher clasped Claudia's hand as if he were her physician, nodding understandingly as Claudia apologised for keeping him waiting, and then introduced his guest. Celades was of medium height, thickset, with a dark face, though most of this was hidden by a tangle of white hair and a luxurious beard and moustache. He greeted Claudia in a guttural voice. Sallust explained that Celades was a Pict, a former slave, now a freedman.

'Indeed, so free,' Sallust concluded, 'that he is able to do anything. His patron has died so Celades is now looking for fresh employment.'

Claudia asked both men to relax and refilled their cups, adding that she'd drunk enough herself but was pleased to see Sallust. She enquired after his family, his cousins, brothers, uncles, sisters, sons and daughters, all of whom helped him in his searches throughout Rome. At last the conversation turned to the business in hand. Claudia asked Sallust if he'd heard about the kidnappings. Sallust nodded.

'Of course,' he murmured, 'everyone has.'

'And have you ever been hired to look for the hostages?'

Sallust shook his head. 'Not the pond I'd fish in,' he declared. 'Too dangerous.'

'What do you mean?' Claudia asked.

'Well…' Sallust paused, searching for his words.

Claudia glanced quickly at Celades, a gentle man with tired eyes and full lips, his nose slightly twisted. She realised the moustache and beard hid a deep scar along his right cheek which ran under his chin and down to his neck.

'Yes, that's it.' Sallust spoke up. 'Whoever is organising these kidnappings is a gang-leader – I stay well away from that. Anyway,' he sighed, 'here is Celades, former Pictish warrior, captured south of the Great Wall fourteen years ago and brought to Rome. He was sold as a slave to the house of Valerius Gratus, where he excelled himself as a cook. Freed by a grateful master, Celades was about to set himself up as a chef when his would-be patron abruptly died. Valerius' son and heir has no interest in him and refuses to support him. So Celades has bought his own stove and grill to become an itinerant chef. He is well known in the Coelian Hill quarter.' Sallust gestured with his hand. 'When Presbyster Sylvester asked me to find someone from the Pictish nation, it wasn't hard. My family have often been nourished by the best of his dishes; an excellent cook.' He added wistfully, 'Very good indeed.'