Queen of the Night

retainers to talk amongst themselves, Claudia and the two veterans settled in the shade of a tree overlooking a small pond covered in green slime. Dragonflies hovered above it and the dull buzz of bees hummed from the gorse which ringed the pool. They shared out the bread and passed round the wineskin. Claudia took two or three mouthfuls and handed it back.
    'You wanted to talk to me?'
    'It wasn't as we said,' Crispus mumbled between mouthfuls.
    'What wasn't?'
    'After the attack.' Secundus spoke up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 'Once the massacre was over, Stathylus wanted to enjoy himself. We hunted the war band down in the heather, killed those in the fort and slung their bodies out, burned every single one, a stack of corpses piled like bloody wheat sheaves, but the chieftain was different. We spent the next day, or rather Stathylus did, torturing him. We crucified him against the wall and cut his flesh.
    At first the man was brave, he kept his mouth shut, but, of course, everyone has their limits, and by the late afternoon he was screaming with pain, begging to die. Every one of us was a hardened soldier; we've done things, Claudia, you wouldn't dream of, but even we grew tired of it. Stathylus eventually cut the Pict's throat and that was the end of the matter.'
    'What was worse,' Crispus took a generous sip of the wine, 'was that Stathylus brought the Golden Maid to watch what he called the "fun". She fainted at least twice and was roused to watch again.'
    'Why are you telling me this?' Claudia asked.
    'We agreed,' Crispus replied, 'that whatever happened at the wall, on that night and the following day… well, I've heard the stories about the Furies of Hades pursuing their quarry.'
    'And what are the Furies here?' Claudia had to pinch herself. Here she was sitting in the shade of a lovely evening, the shadows lengthening, the birdsong clear, butterflies floating, the noise of the crickets in the grass, with two men describing a nightmare which occurred years ago on some lonely heathland beneath that great brooding wall in the north of Britain. Something happened that day which, as Crispus said, had released a hatred that prowled like some vengeful ghost seeking its quarry.
    'Are you sure that everyone was killed? I mean in that Pictish war band?'
    'The chieftain had a son,' Crispus narrowed his eyes, 'a young boy probably no more than thirteen or fourteen summers. We learned that while we were torturing the father. Stathylus sent us out to search the heather; we found the boy's corpse, we recognised it by the torque round the neck and the arm bracelets. We dragged it back. The sight of it only increased the chieftain's humiliation and despair, as it did that of the Golden Maid.'
    'Are you certain,' Claudia persisted, 'that everyone was killed? That no member of that war band survived to study and remember your appearance?'
    'Mistress, most of the Picts were fully fledged warriors, mature men, and that was some eighteen years ago. They were killed, no slaves were taken.'
    'Are you sure of that?' Claudia demanded harshly.
    'Of course we are,' Sccundus declared. 'Stathylus was no fool. We abandoned the mile fort, burned our surplus supplies and rode south. Now remember, Crispus and I weren't party to the decision to abandon Postulus. After it was all over, both of us were left behind for a while when Stathylus and the rest rode south.'
    'For how long?'
    'About two days in all,' Crispus replied. 'We were each given a fresh mount and told to ensure there were no survivors, that no one came creeping back. I tell you, mistress, those were the loneliest two days of our lives, out there in that deserted fort, next to it a stack of corpses burned to nothing but charcoaled flesh. The smoke and stench from it still fouled the air. We saw nothing, we felt nothing, and yet…'
    'And yet what?' Claudia asked.
    'We didn't tell you this either. Eventually we rode southeast until we reached Colchester, where other troops were mustering. We reported for duty. By then of course Stathylus had told of his great victory and was being applauded by all. The camp was overflowing, so we took lodgings in the town near the ruins of the old Temple of Claudius. Oh, it must have been about two weeks after our arrival. One of our number, I forget his name now…' he looked at Secundus, who just shrugged, 'went missing…'
    'Missing?' Claudia asked. 'What do you mean?'
    'He was never seen alive again. His corpse was later found