Queen of the Night

torches. At first the flames flickered, but once they caught the dry, oil-soaked wood, the fires were fanned, roaring to the night sky in blood-red shafts of flames.
    Claudia had seen enough. She slipped through the dark, back to Murranus' chambers, only to find him still sleeping, as was the servant on a mat of straw in the far corner. Claudia kissed Murranus on the brow. Outside the chamber she paused, listening to the sounds of the funeral lamentations, the crackle of wood. Even from where she stood, she could smell the distinctly oily odour of the pyre. She retired early, keeping well away from the galleries and passageways. Helena and Constantine would attend the funeral feast, and once the rites were finished, the Empress would strike.
    Claudia wasn't disappointed. Early the next morning, just after sunrise, Burrus searched her out as she prepared to visit Murranus again. He insisted that she follow him and led her down to the garden beyond the atrium, its colonnaded walk closely guarded by his Germans and hand-picked imperial officers. Helena had set up court; only she and Constantine would preside. The Emperor, still bleary-eyed, sprawled on a specially enthroned chair, scratching his unshaven face and looking longingly at the flagon of wine and tray of cups placed on the central table. He stretched out a hand to fill one of these, only to have it slapped away by his mother, who directed
    Urbana, Cassia, Leartus and, finally, Claudia, to some stools facing them. It was a cool, delicious place, close to the pool of purity, which shimmered in the light, the air freshened by the white lotus blossom floating on the surface, petals opening to the rising sun. A silver-edged purple canopy was being erected to shield them all from the heat. Helena sat still as a statue, face and eyes hard as marble, lips slightly twisted by the fury seething within her. She only looked once at her 'little mouse', a darting, angry glance. Constantine, dressed like his mother in purple-hemmed white robes, hid a grin behind his hand and winked at Claudia. Burrus slouched across and, standing behind the Empress, bowed down and whispered in the Augusta's ear.
    'Good!' the Empress breathed. 'Bring another stool for our champion.'
    Burrus withdrew. Claudia tensed. A short while later a pallid-faced Murranus followed Burrus under the canopy and took his seat. He was dressed in a dark green tunic slightly too big for him. The bruises on his arms and legs were smeared with oil, a poultice bandage tied to the side of his head. He suddenly recollected himself and genuflected before the Emperor and his mother, then turned to greet Claudia who'd half risen.
    'Sit!' Helena's voice cut like a whiplash as she pointed to the stool.
    As Claudia sat back, Urbana gave a loud sigh. Claudia turned. The widow sat head down, hands in her lap. Claudia couldn't decide whether the sigh was one of grief or anger at the appearance of Murranus.
    'Lady Urbana,' Helena smiled sympathetically, 'once again please accept our most sincere condolences on the hideous tragedy which has occurred here-'
    'Vengeance,' Lady Urbana broke in harshly. 'I want vengeance and justice, and I want them now!'
    'All in God's good time.' Constantine stretched across to the table and filled a goblet of wine so swiftly Helena could not intervene. 'And in Rome's good time,' the Emperor added, taking a deep drink.
    Claudia willed herself to relax. Constantine had put his finger on the root of the problem. Any personal tragedy here, at this villa, paled in significance against the harsh politics of the Empire.
    'The abductors?' Helena spoke up. 'Those kidnappers-'
    'Murderers! Assassins!' Murranus broke in. He extended a hand. 'With all due respect, Augusta, I was there. They made no attempt to kidnap Alexander.' He glanced swiftly at the Empress as Urbana choked back a sob. Murranus apologised for the distress he was about to cause, then went on to describe the murderous assault, arrows whipping out of the darkness, the violent hand-to-hand fighting, the masked men gathering round his horse and that of Alexander. 'It is as I said,' he concluded. 'An attempt not to abduct or kidnap but to kill that young man and possibly myself.'
    Claudia sat listening intently. Helena turned to her, cold and hostile.
    'Do you agree with that?' she snapped.
    'Yes, Excellency, I do.' Claudia then described what she had learned. How General Aurelian had announced that Murranus and his son were leaving for Rome