Free Virgin Territory by Marilyn Todd Page B

was her right as matriarch. Daily, with the others, she had to endure the humiliating morning ritual whereby Dexippus, Eugenius’s secretary, passed across to Acte the wax tablet on which he had written the old man’s instructions and she would call them out to the slaves. Then, when the slaves had left, Dex would hand over a second tablet and she’d read out the old man’s instructions to his family.
    Claudia jerked her head towards the hall. ‘How are they taking Sabina’s death this morning?’
    Pacquia twiddled the flounces round Claudia’s ankles. ‘It’s all very sad, madam,’ she said without looking up.
    ‘That’s not what I asked you,’ Claudia replied. ‘I want to know how it’s affecting them.’
    Pacquia’s hands trembled slightly, and Claudia relented.
    ‘Look, you don’t have to go through the motions with me. I’m well aware they’re not playing Happy Families out there, grieving and crying over a much-loved sister. Pass that silver pendant.’
    Grief she had not expected. Even assuming the blood line was pure, Sabina had been as much a stranger to them as they were to her, and in four days precious little ground had been gained. Confusing her dream world with reality, Sabina had categorically refused to mix with her relatives and had stuck to Tanaquil like a snail on slime.
    ‘What happened to her prospective bridegroom, Gavius whatshisface?’
    ‘Master Labienus? He left on Monday, madam.’
    That let him off the hook, then. Sabina was killed yesterday, Tuesday. Not that he could really be considered a suspect. The killer would be a local man.
    ‘Have they caught the culprit?’
    ‘There’s a search party out now.’
    ‘I see. And what does the effervescent Tanaquil have to say about the matter?’ Some fortune teller she turned out to be.
    ‘Tanaquil, madam?’
    ‘That flame-haired jack-in-a-box who’s been dossing in the clipshed.’
    Sabina might have attached herself to the girl, but Eugenius wouldn’t have what he called the Sicilian trollop in the house. She and the Minotaur had been sleeping rough since they docked.
    ‘Oh, her .’ Even slaves looked down on these hangers-on, it seemed. ‘She’s gone.’
    There was enough good-riddance in Pacquia’s voice for Claudia to save her breath. An admirable decision, she thought, to jump before you’re pushed.
    The young slave girl’s fear seemed to have all but evaporated, and her eyes began to glow.
    ‘You know what they’re saying,’ she whispered, with all the enthusiasm of a gossip five times her age, ‘they’re saying she weren’t their daughter.’
    This was more like it. ‘Get away! Who says?’
    ‘Senbi. I heard him talking to Antefa—and guess what Antefa said?’
    ‘Tell me.’
    Pacquia glanced at the door. ‘He’d heard Aulus, Linus and Portius having a right old barney over how much the master was gonna settle on Miss Sabina.’
    ‘Was that before or after her run-in with Labienus?’
    ‘Mmm… ’ Pacquia closed her eyes in concentration. ‘Before.’
    Claudia leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘And just how much was Eugenius going to settle on Sabina?’
    ‘Eight thousand sesterces.’
    Her breath came out in a whistle. No wonder they were aggrieved. Claudia could imagine that, after thirty years, they felt entitled to that money themselves. They wouldn’t be happy to see their birthright frittered away on a middle-aged fruitcake whose childbearing days were almost over.
    Which was all very interesting, of course, and had Sabina been pushed over a cliff on a dark night, might well explain a few things. But she wasn’t. She’d been murdered in a particularly callous and calculating manner.
    The timing had to be precise, the wound had to be precise. The man responsible for this bizarre crime knew exactly how much time he had between severing her spinal cord and then, as she lay helpless, stripping her and raping her while she was fully conscious. Claudia felt a column of insects march up her