Queen of the Night

full of laughter, lips ripe and voluptuous. Claudia swallowed hard and took her seat. Helena made a sign. Urbana, ignoring Claudia, continued to talk about Murranus' duties in looking after the young Alexander. She acted imperiously, impressing upon the gladiator the need to guard her stepson night and day, how he would sleep in the outer chamber of the boy's bedroom and accompany him everywhere he went. She insisted that he must be armed at all times.
    Claudia kept looking at Cassia and the dark-faced eunuch standing a little behind her. Claudia had worked with many eunuchs. Leartus had some of their effete ways but he was not so tense or fidgety. He stood dark-eyed, smiling as if he was enjoying the impression his truly beautiful mistress was making on the company, Helena included. Cassia was now smiling at Claudia, talking with her eyes, glancing quickly at Murranus then back at her. Claudia grinned. Cassia was telling her brazenly that Murranus was handsome but Claudia need not worry. She had to stifle her laughter as Cassia threw a quick glance at Theodore and raised her beautiful eyes heavenwards. Claudia fully understood the reason why. Theodore looked and acted the born actor. He was athletic, of medium height, his smooth-shaven face heavily oiled under a mop of curly black hair, his eyebrows neatly plucked, lips slightly painted. He was a man used to being at the centre of attention. He fidgeted constantly, pursing his lips and playing with the glittering bracelets on his wrists.
    Urbana's clipped, precise speech drew to a close, and she turned to Claudia, scrutinising her curiously.
    'Claudia enjoys my full confidence,' Helena murmured softly, 'as does Murranus.'
    Claudia decided not to wait for Urbana to deliver another speech. 'You have come from the Villa Carina?' she asked. 'Senator Carinus must be distraught and angry. How did his daughter's abductors gain access? Surely there were guards?'
    Urbana gestured at Theodore, who was almost jumping up and down on his cushioned stool, eager to speak. 'There were guards,' the actor declared as if delivering the prologue to a play. 'Senator Carinus had hired some bully-boys, but they were quite drunk. It was I who raised the alarm.'
    'Tell me,' Claudia interrupted, 'what exactly happened?'
    'I was with Antonia in her private part of the garden near the Fountain of Artemis. We were discussing Seneca's Oedipus. Suddenly,' Theodore flailed his hands, 'out of the trees slunk these walking shadows, phantasms of Hades.'
    'The attackers?' Claudia demanded, trying to keep her face straight.
    Cassia had now lowered her beautiful head, that mop of golden hair hiding her face, and her shoulders were shaking.
    Leartus was chewing on his lip but his eyes were bright with laughter.
    'The attackers?' Claudia repeated.
    'They were dressed in leather kilts, bare-chested except for belts and baldrics. Actors' masks covered their faces as if they were characters from one of Terence's comedies. I-'
    'Then what happened?' Helena snapped.
    Theodore remembered himself and some of his dramatic flourishes ceased.
    'They grabbed Antonia. I attacked one and dragged off his mask. I saw his face in the torchlight, bearded and scarred; his nose was broken, his lips puffed out, a former boxer surely?'
    'When you join us at the She Asses,' Claudia remarked, 'you must give us that description again. Perhaps there is someone there who might recognise it.'
    She paused, studying Theodore intently. She had no evidence, nothing but her own instinct, yet she was sure the actor was lying. She had lived, eaten and worked with the likes of Theodore from Ravenna in the north to Tarentum in the south. They were all the same: good people, but they lived for the performance, the show, whatever that might be. So if Theodore was lying, why? To win the favour of Carinus so that he'd be lavishly rewarded as the saviour of the hour, the great hero, a story he could dine out on in the wine booths of the city? Or was he part of the conspiracy? She recalled those heavy masks actors wore; they were usually strapped very firmly to the face. Had Theodore really pulled one off? If not, and she really believed he hadn't, why did he mention it?
    'Then what happened?' she asked softly.
    Theodore nursed the side of his head. 'I received a blow.' He assumed all the airs of a victim. 'I fell down. I was in great pain, confused. By the time I recovered, Antonia,' his voice broke dramatically, 'Antonia,' he sobbed, 'was gone!