Queen of the Night

this and dabble in that. He is also borrowing money.'
    'What?'
    'You know Torquatus the Tonsor, the barber who sets up his stall near the She Asses tavern?' 'Of course.'
    'You also know that he has the ear of some quite powerful bankers, courtiers and senators. To be blunt, Torquatus speculates…'
    'Oh no!' Claudia groaned.
    'Oh yes,' Sylvester retorted. 'Torquatus is a money-lender. He is not an evil man, but he has invited Polybius into certain business ventures which have failed. Polybius owes Torquatus a lot of money.'
    'Is he in any danger?' Claudia asked.
    'Not really' Sylvester narrowed his eyes. 'Torquatus is one of us, a Christian,- well, at least he shows the outward signs of being a Christian. He is really more interested in the She Asses tavern.'
    'Of course,' Claudia whispered. 'It's near his stall and-'
    'Precisely/ Sylvester agreed. 'Torquatus would love to own it. If Polybius gets deeper into debt, if he can't repay his loan, Torquatus might foreclose; that's why I asked you about Fulgentia. Polybius is not a villain, but he's a rogue. If he can worm his way out of mischief he will, although this time he is treading a very dangerous path. The beautifully preserved corpse of a young woman was found on his property. Now there may be another reason for that, but Polybius has sold it to the Empress as the mortal remains of a blessed virgin martyr, a miracle, proof of God's intervention in the affairs of men. If that was proved to be a deliberate lie, Polybius would suffer, despite whatever influence you have. So you must, I beg you, Claudia, make sure that Polybius is protected, that what has happened is the truth, built on rock and not on crumbling sand.'
    Claudia moved her head, easing the tension at the back of her neck. She felt like screaming, running out of the temple, going back to the She Asses tavern and confronting her uncle, but that would be futile. Unless she had proof, evidence of his roguery, Polybius would simply bluster.
    'And Murranus?' Claudia asked. 'What about him?'
    'Oh, Murranus,' Sylvester replied, 'champion gladiator, the glory of the amphitheatre.'
    'What about him?' Claudia snapped. i know you have a great fear of Murranus returning to the arena, and you are right. Murranus is a champion, but every day he grows older; eventually he will enter the amphitheatre and meet someone younger, faster, swifter, more deadly. The mood of the mob is fickle. Today they will clap Murranus on the back, buy him a goblet of wine, women will offer themselves to him.' He shrugged. 'I apologise. I am not saying Murranus would accept, but that is the way of the world. One day Murranus will make a mistake. He'll lie sprawled on the sand, mortally wounded, begging for his life from the mob who, simply because they don't like the way he fought, would consign him to death.' 'The Empress would intervene.'
    'The Empress is a politician, Claudia; she will do what the mob wants, you know that as well as I do.' 'So what are you saying?'
    'The Church of Rome needs, how can I put it, protectors, bodyguards. My master, the other powerful bishops of this region, must have their own military escort. Murranus would be an ideal choice as a captain.' He smiled as Claudia relaxed. 'See, I'm not all threats and menaces. I am trying to help you.'
    'But Murranus is not a Christian.'
    'He is better than that. He's a man who can't be bought. He can be trusted. So, Claudia, if we remain allies, even better, friends, whatever authority I wield, whatever power the Church exercises, will be used on your behalf and that of Murranus.'
    'And Polybius?'
    'As I've said, Polybius is a different matter, he is following a very dangerous path. The Empress is devoted to her relics, the antiquities of the Christian past. If it came out that a tavern-keeper near the Flavian Gate had fooled her…' His words hung like a noose.
    Claudia stretched out her hand; Sylvester clasped it. 'You have my word,' she promised. 'I will do what I can, and if
    I discover the truth about Fulgentia,' she chewed her lip, 'you'll be the first to know. Oh, Presbyter, there is something else.' 'What?'
    Claudia quickly described the murders of the veterans, their service in northern Britain, the savage desecration carried out on their corpses.
    'I've heard something of this,' Sylvester murmured, 'but how can I help you? Such deaths have no connection with the Christian Church.'
    Claudia laughed abruptly. 'Very little, Presbyter, but I need your assistance. Many