Read Online Wolf Whistle by Marilyn Todd - Free Book Online

the glistening puddles it was a wonder its occupant wasn’t seasick. And suddenly Claudia remembered why she was here. She stepped aside for a woman with a pot of forced lilies under one arm and a bawling infant under the other, who was collecting her husband’s boots from the menders, then listened as a Sarmatian bartered in bad Latin with a Parthian whose vocabulary was worse. She lingered at a stall specializing in foreign books, helping the wizened shopkeeper secrete his treasured scrolls beneath a yellow cloth to keep the damp at bay, she passed the time of day with an inkseller extolling the virtues of soot and pitch and octopus juice and she allowed the slipper-maker to ramble on about the guild he belonged to, but my, my, where were his manners, would the lady feel the softness of his leather?
    Then finally…no more shops. No more diversions.
    No more excuses.
    Claudia positioned herself at the back of the small crowd which had gathered, anonymous under her cloak. She could still turn away. Cypassis sat on a three-legged stool outside the vellum maker’s, she had Jovi on her knee and was recounting how the raven had been turned from silver into black for telling tales. Jovi, unaware, chuckled merrily.
    ‘More, Passi. Tell me more!’
    The crowd had been denied a view of the grisly crime in the alley, yet they chewed on every lurid detail.
    ‘Who raised the alarm, was it Zosi?’
    ‘That’s right, the speech seller. He said finding that corpse made him sick to his stomach.’
    ‘Slashed to ribbons, so they say.’
    ‘Just like the others.’
    Speculation, embellishment and innuendo rippled round the swelling horde and when Claudia shivered it was not from the cold. Try as she might, she couldn’t escape the bitter comparisons between the horror on the Argiletum and the dignified ritual on the Palatine. There, the Priest of Luna would be inspecting the sacrificial sow for blemishes, assuring the worshippers who had gathered at the shrine that the beast was as close to perfection as was possible, a worthy sacrifice for the goddess. He would then wash his hands, for he too had to be pure.
    Whether or not he had yet called for silence, it was not too late for Claudia to join in, because here, on the Argiletum, a solemn-faced Orbilio was busy wiping dark stains from his hands. He had not seen her. Sorry, Marcus. Another time, huh?
    One eyebrow twitched slightly as Claudia threw back her hood and stepped forward. ‘Is this the place where you found Jovi?’ There was nothing in his voice to suggest he’d ever doubted she would not honour the bargain. ‘The boy doesn’t remember.’
    The investigator’s voice did not carry as far as the gawpers and they shuffled their feet in noticeable disappointment.
    Claudia cleared her throat. ‘Yes.’ Even in daylight you could barely make out the narrow cul-de-sac between the bookseller’s and the satchel shop, much less by night. ‘Is that where… ?’
    As her voice trailed off, she considered the worshippers and the temple attendants, duly hushed, heads bowed low. With street sounds drowned by the sacred flutes, the Priest of Luna would sprinkle holy salt on the pig’s head to purify the sacrifice. There would be no smells of turnip stalks and piss up there, no buzzing flies or scuttlebugs. From the hurly-burly of the street, Claudia’s ears picked out only Cypassis relating the bitter-sweet story of Echo and Narcissus and how poor, pining Echo was reduced to hiding in caves. And darkened alleyways, Claudia added silently. With heavy feet and a heavier heart, she approached the pitch-black tunnel. From a million miles away, a man’s voice was urging her for gods’ sake, don’t go down there, but Claudia heard only her maidservant’s crooning, growing fainter as it became muffled by the high walls of the passageway.
    The priest would be finishing his solemn intonation. One of his attendants would purify the sacred hammer and he would ask, is this the right