Claudia gingerly followed the two men down the cellar steps. The brickwork either side was a rough red covered with cobwebs; the torches fixed into rusting sockets and niches spluttered noisily, their resin smoke mixing with the dry mustiness of the cellars. The steps led to a row of square chambers opening on to each other. In the second stood Polybius, Poppaoe, Venutus the fat-faced vinedresser, and Polybius' friends and neighbours, Apuleius the Apothecary and his wife Callista. Both husband and wife were small, grey-haired and anxious-eyed. Claudia had often met and chatted to them, and liked them both. They originally came from the south, and had the dark, leathery look of peasants who'd worked for long hours under a broiling sun. They had moved into the quarter a few years ago, and since then Apuleius had earned a well-deserved reputation for being most skilled in the knowledge of herbs and medicine.
All five people were grouped round a casket resting on a trestle table. Inside the casket, revealed by the light of the surrounding tapers, lay a young woman swathed in fresh linen robes, the folds pulled back to reveal her face. Claudia reckoned she must have been about sixteen or seventeen years of age, with a thin, rather troubled face, the lower lip jutting out, the nose snub, a dimple on her chin. Her eyes were closed and her hands clasped before her. Her black hair was neatly dressed and parted in the middle, falling down to her shoulders.