Free I, Claudia by Marilyn Todd Page B

you and me go to the back and talk this thing through? I’m sure we can come to an arrangement to suit everybody, yes? After all,’ his voice sounded quite conversational, ‘you don’t want house calls, no?’
    ‘Go fuck yourself!’
    Suddenly she was slammed against the wall and a huge paw gripped her chin. His thumb and forefinger pinched deep into her cheeks.
    ‘Listen to Otho, you foul-mouthed bitch. You no in position to tell anybody what to do, understand?’
    Her head was hurting badly from where it hit the wall, she’d bitten her tongue and she was also feeling sick. Whether the nausea was from the knock or from fright wasn’t really important.
    ‘What do you want?’
    ‘Good girl.’ The voice was back to its low, sibilant menace. ‘Now let’s go out back and talk, yes?’
    He jerked his thumb towards the terrified coppersmith cowering in the shadows.
    ‘And you. Start hammering or you won’t have no hand to hammer with.’
    Claudia found herself bundled into the back of the workshop, the ringing of the metal making her dizzy. To her surprise, there were tears in her eyes. Otho shoved her towards the back wall. Close up, she could see there was a deep red scar running the length of his cheek and she shivered. What befell the man who made it didn’t bear thinking about.
    ‘How much does he want?’ Dear Diana, was that squeak hers?
    Otho placed his hands flat against the wall. She wasn’t pinned, but the result was the same. ‘How much you owe Master Lucan?’
    ‘T-t-two thousand sesterces.’
    ‘Two thousand four hundred.’ Otho bared his teeth. ‘You forgotten the interest.’
    That much? Bugger. This visit was turning into a right bloody mess, she couldn’t let it continue.
    ‘All right. I’ll send him a hundred sesterces by…by the middle of next week.’ Miracles do happen occasionally, but this at least would buy her time.
    Otho leaned forward, his face almost touching her own. ‘Three hundred,’ he whispered. ‘By the weekend.’
    She felt whatever colour was left drain out of her face. ‘I can’t do that!’ Even if I throw myself on Gaius’s mercy and for some unbelievable reason he said yes, it was still impossible. ‘My husband’s away. There’s been a death in the family.’ Good heavens, was this pitiful babble really her? ‘I can’t raise three hundred in time.’
    One finger gently traced a line down her cheek. ‘Three hundred, Claudia. Or you and I, we be matching book-ends. You have my promise on that.’
    Her mind made rapid calculations. Would Gaius divorce her if she was disfigured? Not if she told him it was a vicious street gang. Except…except she’d look like a bloody chequerboard by the time Otho had finished and Lucan still wouldn’t be any closer to getting his account settled!
    ‘Look. Maybe you and I could do a deal.’ She tried to calm her breathing. ‘Instead of spending your money on tavern girls, suppose you and I…got together?’ The raddled old whores only charged eight asses, it would take three lifetimes!
    ‘Maybe.’ His accent was so thick now, it was almost unrecognizable. ‘But first let Otho see what he’ll be getting.’
    His left hand slid slowly along her shoulder down her upper arm and across to her breast. She shuddered involuntarily and watched his face split into a grin. Claudia thought she’d never seen anything more closely resembling a death rictus. Her heart was thumping. This man enjoys hurting people. She forced herself to look him in the eye as his hand moved inside her stola and under her tunic.
    ‘Nice tits.’ He began to squeeze.
    She could bring her knee up, now, and…
    ‘Well? Do we have a deal or don’t we?’
    As his right hand moved between her legs two men burst through the door from the workshop, dragging a third man, bruised and bleeding.
    ‘Junius!’
    The coppersmith hammered frantically in the background. There was no rhythm to it, he was simply pounding the metal as though his life depended on