Wolf Whistle by Marilyn Todd Page A

garden was depressing, devoid of any plant that could not be classified as functional. At the far end of the peristyle, the doorkeeper stopped short, flung wide a cypress door and all but pushed Claudia inside.
    From the cold detachment of its spartan surroundings, the contrast here was dramatic. A log fire crackled majestically, filling the room with a haze of applewood smoke, and had the bear still been inside its skin on the hearth, no doubt this was the place it would have chosen to lie. The walls were painted a rich dark red, like old mellow wine, embellished with gold and with green, and from a lampstand dangled four bronze lights illuminating a vast assemblage of busts and curios. So busy was Claudia, digesting this warm, inviting treasure trove, that she failed to realize she had company.
    ‘I trust my collection amuses you.’
    She spun round. He was standing in the corner, in the shadow, perched against a chest. She would not show what he’d intended her to. ‘Are you Kaeso, or simply another lackey?’
    It was hard to tell, him being shaded, but she thought she caught a change of expression, which might have been amusement. Or then again, might not.
    ‘I’m whoever you want me to be.’ Was that a yes or a no?
    ‘Then you’re not the man I’m after,’ she said. ‘The man I seek is quick and decisive, and I’ve been waiting half an hour—’
    ‘I am Kaeso.’ He shifted his weight, that was all. ‘And I very much regret the delay. You see, this is just a room I rent, Tucca had to fetch me.’
    Tucca, not Echo. And this was not Narcissus, fallen in love with himself, there was not a mirror in the room. The voice remained in shadows.
    ‘She might have explained.’ Let him make small talk. Sooner or later he’d have to come out.
    A flash of teeth showed in the corner. ‘There is a slight problem with that,’ replied Kaeso. ‘Someone cut out her tongue. She’s a mute.’
    Claudia wanted to whistle, to say, ‘No shit,’ but held back.
    ‘She lives here alone,’ he was saying. ‘Tends the whole house herself, apart from the groceries, and her daughter does that.’
    ‘I’m surprised any man bedded her once, never mind enough times to give her a child.’
    Claudia hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until she heard Kaeso chuckle. ‘Oh, Tucca was married. In fact it was her husband who cut out her tongue.’
    Bastard. ‘Where is he now?’ Despite herself, she was curious.
    ‘Officially? Lost in a shipwreck. In practice? Planted in the lawn, between the bay tree and the yew. You passed him.’
    Claudia tipped her head on one side. ‘Are you a keen fan of Assyrian horror stories, by any chance?’ she asked.
    ‘No. Is it relevant?’
    ‘How about Tucca?’ she persisted. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope she comes from a long line of desert nomads?’
    This time his laughter was rich and unrestrained. ‘You don’t run with the pack, do you?’
    Prising himself off his perch, Kaeso stepped forward and Claudia was glad she had steeled her senses earlier. Imagining some terrible deformity which had made him wary, she was unprepared for raw perfection.
    ‘No, sir, I do not.’
    Claudia watched him cross the room to stoke the fire. As to his age, she put him at thirty, but admitted she might be out five years either way. Not exceptionally tall, he was strong, she could see rounded biceps strain the sleeves of his tunic, saw powerful calves below the muscular knees of the athlete. On a man who trains hard in the gymnasium, it was unusual to see collar-length hair. In the darkened recess, it looked dark and yet now, under the light, it seemed almost fair. Tawny.
    ‘Please. Take a seat.’ He poured white wine into pale-green slender glasses, but instead of taking the second chair, sat on the bearskin rug at Claudia’s feet, staring into the crackling flames. His profile was pointed, rugged even, with a jaw that was sharp rather than square. His musky scent mingled with the applewood