Man Eater

‘Are you trying to be funny?’ he growled.

Claudia held up her hands. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

Thorough was the word that applied to Gisco. Thorough, but alas not very bright.

‘Aha!’ It took him a while, but eventually his eyes hit upon the curtain. ‘So that’s where the craven sod’s hiding.’

The triumph in his voice was short-lived as he turned on Claudia. ‘You’d do well to steer clear of the likes of him, hiding behind a woman’s skirts. ‘Bastard!’ he shouted. ‘Come out, you lily-livered, yellow-bellied coward!’

He strode across the room and in his fury the curtain not only ripped from top to bottom, the whole mechanism came off in his hand. Intent on disentangling himself from fabric and pole, he failed to notice Cuddles’s lithe body turn on its axis. Her furled lips revealed giant white fangs. The black teardrops were compressed to obscurity.

‘Holy shit!’

Ears flat, whiskers forward, pupils down to slits, this was an animal poised and wanting to strike. Gazelles, my foot!

Swallowing a giggle, Claudia stepped into the room and spun round in a circle, the scarlet cotton flaring prettily at her ankles.

‘See for yourself, Master Compo.’ The cheetah’s tail swished angrily, but that chain was strong and the couch was solid bronze. ‘The room’s quite empty.’

‘So it is,’ the charioteer replied thickly. ‘Only-well, I could’ve sworn I saw him. Orbilio. Coming in here.’ His anger began to boil up again. ‘I’ll find him, though, make no mistake. I’ll find that spineless, gutless son-of-a-whore and then he won’t go fucking my wife!’

Oh dear. Looks like action is called for. ‘Tell me, Master Gusto, would you say I’m an attractive woman?’

Gisco checked his stride. ‘What?’

‘Am I, or am I not, physically attractive?’

‘Well, yes. Of course, you are. I don’t see what-’

‘Most men find me attractive, I’m swatting them off like flies half the time. Therefore I think you can safely say that I know from experience, Marcus has not been-how did you put it? — rutting your wife.’

‘Oh, yes he has, the horny bastard. Every bloody Tuesday and sometimes on a Friday.’

That often? It’s a wonder he ever gets any work done. ‘I assure you, Master Fatso, you are quite mistaken. That man’s interests lie elsewhere. In fact,’ she advanced closer to the charioteer, ‘I’d say you were more his type. Strong and muscular, just how he likes them.’

‘What?’ Gisco was having trouble with his eyes, they were blinking nineteen to the dozen. ‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Why should I lie?’ she asked, opening her own eyes ingenuously wide.

‘Marcus Cornelius Orbilio’s a…a fucking queen?’

‘Blame his mother,’ she said generously. ‘She raised him as a girl. In fact he was twelve years old before he learned otherwise.’

Gisco’s breath came out in a whistle. ‘Marcus Cornelius, eh?’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re absolutely certain about this?’

‘I’ll show you where he keeps his make-up, if you like.’

Gisco’s mood darkened again. ‘Faithless, bloody bitch!’ he barked. ‘Lying to me, sending me chasing after goddamned fairies while she dallies with her fancy man in Rome. Wait till I find him. I’ll have the bugger’s balls!’ His voice carried up the atrium and out of the vestibule as Claudia sucked in her cheeks. In the next room, the cheetah’s attention was back to where it had been prior to Gisco yanking the curtain off the wall.

‘Coast’s clear, Loverboy.’

Feet first, Orbilio crawled out from the far end of the couch, his hair sticking out in every direction, his face flushed and dripping with perspiration.

‘I’m not sure whether to thank you or spank you.’

‘Decide quickly,’ she said. ‘Gisco’s still within earshot.’

‘In that case, Mistress Seferius,’ he replied, going down on bended knee and holding his clenched fist to his breast, ‘I beg you to accept my heartfelt gratitude.’

‘Don’t I just love it when you beg! Now on your feet, Hotshot, I think you’ve teased that cheetah long enough.’

XIX

Tarsulae in daylight was nowhere near as tacky as Claudia had envisaged, although it took a while to convince her. When she’d passed through (was it really only six days earlier?) it was late, they were tired, it was simply a case of stabling the horses and flopping into the nearest, least verminous bed before an early-morning start in that damned fog. Today, with the sky a confection of white puffs on blue, her first proper view of the town was of a jagged line of tombs, some circular, some turreted, some simple oblong boxes, stretching down a hill so steep the mules were puffing before they were halfway to the top. Undoubtedly coloured by earlier experiences, Claudia found it difficult to shake the impression that a long, dangling tongue flanked by sharp teeth reached out to suck up and devour travellers foolish enough to pass by. She closed her eyes on the approach and pretended it was to enjoy the spring sunshine on her face.

‘We’re here, madam,’ Junius said quietly.

Claudia’s eyes snapped open. ‘What did I tell you?’