Queen of the Night

non-violence, had allowed themselves to be named in a bloody fight to the death in the arena. Was it a sign of further change, an accommodation between Christianity and the state? Mercury also informed Claudia of how placards and graffiti were appearing around the city championing one or other of the combatants, the gamblers were placing their bets, whilst public opinion was swaying against Murranus. After all, wasn't he getting older? Hadn't he been severely injured in the recent attack? And his five opponents, were they not former soldiers whose drill was just as hard and ferocious as that of the gladiator school?
    Claudia, sick with worry, closed her ears to all this and tried not to think. Murranus sensed her mood and absented himself, keeping well away from the She Asses and the delicacies served by Celades. He fasted, eating only sparingly, whilst undergoing the iron-hard discipline of training. Unlike last time, however, when he had prepared for his fight against Meleager the Marvel of a Million Cities, Murranus now trained in public and the reports were not good. He was slow, sluggish, some said even slightly frightened of his sparring partners. Claudia truly felt like a mouse, one cruelly trapped by ugly rumours, whispered comments; even Polybius, rejoicing in his new-found wealth, looked worried. Now and again her uncle would slip away to see Murranus for himself. On his return he always looked glum.
    During those first few days Claudia only experienced spiralling terror as she squirmed and cursed Helena. She wondered if she should go down on her knees and beg Murranus to withdraw his challenge, but she conceded that would be fruitless. After a while her own hard discipline exerted itself. She had to forget, to concentrate on the problem in hand; there was a task to be finished. She excused herself from the She Asses and, whenever possible, went back to her little spot in the garden close to the curtain wall, where she moved a stool, a table and her writing tray. She would sit in the dappled shade and reflect on everything that had happened.
    Her thoughts turned to one vexatious problem: Theodore's death. He'd definitely been poisoned, but according to Polybius and Apuleius, he hadn't eaten or drunk anything at the tavern. Claudia wrote down everything she knew about Theodore, from the first time he impinged on her life to his sudden and unexpected death at the She Asses. She concentrated on this. The only time she returned to mingle with the customers was to satisfy her own hunger, as well as to establish what the murdered actor did on that fateful evening. She swiftly drew one conclusion. Theodore had taken a goblet of wine just before he retired, but complaining of queasiness, he had not eaten or drunk anything else. The wine spilled in his chamber meant the cup was still full when it was knocked over. She compared all this to what she had written, and suspicions no bigger than a prick on her memory began to surface. She spent an entire day reflecting on everything she had seen and heard, yet impassable obstacles hindered the path she was trying to follow. She sent for Sallust the Searcher. He met her full of apologies that he had made no progress on the identity of the young woman whose corpse had been unearthed in the very garden in which they were meeting. Claudia dismissed this even as Sallust, sad-eyed and down at the mouth, grasped her hand.
    'Claudia, Claudia, the games take place in three days. I've heard the news. Is Murranus mad? Rumours seep from the gladiator school; his friends are concerned about him, stories about injuries, of him being too slow. They say the odds against him are mounting. The Egyptian and his company are training in the Field of Mars.'
    Claudia pressed the tips of her fingers against Sallust's lips.
    'Enough,' she whispered. 'I want you, Sallust,' she moved her fingers and touched the tip of his nose, 'to use that,' she forced a smile, 'to ferret out gossip and chatter.' She handed over two small scrolls. 'This is a letter for the Augusta, the other is for Murranus. I will await their replies and whatever you learn.'
    In the end Helena responded immediately, or rather
    Chrysis the Chamberlain did so on her behalf, confirming everything Claudia had asked. Murranus dictated his reply to a city scribe but then added in his own rough hand:,' miss you, I love you, I never stop thinking of you.
    Claudia wept quietly and touched the scroll with her hand before launching into a