David Wishart - Food for the Fishes

I sat down opposite him. ‘Uh…yeah. You could say that.’

‘Rooked him, did they? Florus and Nerva?’

‘Yeah, maybe. That’s what Mother thinks. I don’t know for sure myself, but — ’

‘They rooked him. Oh, I know these two buggers. Not here, though, they know better than that because they’d be out on their backsides if they tried it. Somewhere else.’

‘Bauli. A wineshop.’

Philippus nodded. ‘Fine. Then like I said to you upstairs I hope your wife takes that bastard Florus for everything he’s got. Good luck to her. Thanks, Corvinus. That’s all I wanted to hear.’

I stood up. ‘Okay. In that case — ’

‘Sit down.’ Philippus hadn’t moved. ‘I haven’t started yet.’ I sat. ‘I don’t like customers of mine cheating each other, wherever it happens, my place or someplace else. And I really don’t like customers who I know are bastards doing it to someone I’ve brought here myself in good faith. I don’t like that at all. So I reckon that I owe you. A big one, because it covers your grain barge tip as well.’ He sucked on a tooth. ‘Here’s the payoff. You get yourself over to Puteoli tomorrow. Street just off the market square, I can’t remember offhand what it’s called but you’ll find it. The man you want to talk to is Gaius Frontinus.’ He stood, suddenly. ‘That’s it. Like I say, I hope your wife wins.’

‘Hang on. Who’s this Frontinus?’

‘That’s all I’m telling you. We’ve a deal. You stick to your part of the bargain and I’ll stick to mine. The account’s clear now. You just talk to Frontinus, hear? And don’t forget, I want to see Florus when you’re done. Calliope’ll come and get me.’

Before I could answer he’d limped off.

I stood up and moved back over to the game. Florus was sitting back in his chair grinning, and one look at the board showed me why.

It was bad; very bad. In fact, it could hardly be worse.

Hell.

The game was almost over: there were only three counters still on the board, black ones, two on Perilla’s fourth line and one on the third, ready to be moved off. Plus — and this was the point — one white, waiting to come on.

Florus leant forwards and picked up the dice. So it was Florus’s throw, on top of everything else. Oh, shit, there went the whole boiling. Still, we’d tried our best; even Mother would have to admit that.

I would kill Priscus!

I pushed my way through the crowd of punters — it was a crowd now — and sat down next to Perilla.

‘Hey, Corvinus.’ Florus gave me a big grin. ‘How’s the boy? Back in time for the finish, right?’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘Hello, Marcus,’ Perilla said listlessly; the lady looked done in. ‘I’m sorry, but we seem to have lost.’

‘Someone’s got to. Luck of the game.’ Florus was still grinning and jiggling the dice, prolonging the agony. My fist knotted. ‘It’s just my night, that’s all.’

‘Just shut up and throw, pal,’ I said. Twenty gold pieces and it all to do again. I could’ve wept. Bugger!

He shrugged and threw. The three dice clattered across the board.

Two sixes. And a two.

Behind me, I could hear the breath go out of the punters, but I was watching Florus. His grin had slipped. Two sixes got his back two men off. The two…

The two left him one to go: a vulnerable singleton on the last line. And now it was Perilla’s turn.

Suddenly, I felt angry. Anything else and she’d lost, sure, but if she threw a one we were back in the game. The hell with science now; let’s go with the luck. As Perilla reached for the dice, I put my hand over hers, stopping her.

‘Hold on, lady,’ I said. I was still looking straight at Florus.

He frowned. ‘Come on, Corvinus, this is your wife’s game! No interfering. Let her make the throw.’

‘In a minute. You want to raise the bet?’

‘Do I what?’

‘Marcus!’ Perilla whispered.

I didn’t look at her. ‘You stay out of this,’ I said. There had been a murmur from the punters behind me, but I ignored that too. My eyes were still on Florus. ‘Okay. Here’s the deal, friend. We double the wager — ’

‘Marcus, have you totally lost your senses?’

‘- only if Perilla hits your man and goes on to win after all we take half in information.’

Long silence; you could’ve heard an ant cough.

Florus’s eyes shifted. A lot of the bounce had suddenly gone out of him. He licked his lips nervously.

‘What kind of information?’ he said.

‘The answers to any questions I care to ask you, ten minutes’ worth. Straight, full and delivered under oath.’ I waited, but nothing came. His face had gone grey. ‘Come on, pal! A ten minute chat saves you twenty gold pieces. And that’s only if we win. If we lose, you get forty. Now are you a gambler or aren’t you?’

It was a close thing. For a minute I didn’t think he’d bite. On the other hand, he’d been called upfront, and no gambler worth his salt likes to knuckle down under these circumstances. Plus the fact that half of Philippus’s was there watching to see him do it. And the odds were fair: Perilla would still be using all three dice. Three chances at a one.

I’d got the bastard by the short hairs, and both of us knew it.

‘Treble,’ Florus said. I doubt if you could’ve pried his teeth apart with a crowbar.

‘Fine with me,’ I said. ‘Treble it is. Same deal: twenty in cash, the rest the other way.’

‘Marcus, have you gone completely mad?’ I could feel Perilla staring at me. ‘That’s sixty gold pieces!’

Yeah, well, maybe she had a point at that. But it was too late to go back now. ‘Just throw, lady,’ I said.

She shook the dice. I crossed my fingers, held my breath and prayed to whatever god protected half-assed, brain-dead purple-stripers who didn’t know when to cut their losses and go home gracefully…

A five, a three and a one.

Perilla squealed, two of the punters behind me cheered, and one plummy-voiced senator type murmured ‘Oh, good show, madam!’ Florus just looked sick.

I breathed out and grinned. Jupiter! That had been close! We weren’t out of the woods yet, sure, not by any means, but at least we were back in there and punching. Now it was a straight race; except, of course, if one of them hit the other’s piece on the way round…

Perilla’s five and three took her to the ninth line. Florus’s turn, coming on from scratch. He reached automatically for the dice and threw: a six, a two and a four, putting him straight up to his twelfth, half way round the board. Shit; he had the edge, three lines ahead. And if Perilla didn’t get the four that would send him back again then it was all in the dice. The chances of three ones I just didn’t like to think of.

She got them all the same.

Behind me, there was a hiss of indrawn breath and one of the punters swore fluently. I knew how he felt. Me, I just gritted my teeth and said nothing.

Florus was grinning again. A one would give him a hit and put us back to the start, and I doubted if we’d be lucky a second time. There again, anything over twelve and he’d won the game anyway. Bugger. He jiggled the dice and threw.

A five, a four and a two. Well, at least we were off the hook for the moment: he’d missed her singleton and fallen short of the straight win. Still, it only left him two lines shy of home, and with three dice that was it.

So it was all on this throw. And, like Florus had been, Perilla was only on her twelfth line.

‘Come on, lady,’ I said. ‘Thirteen or better. Can you do that for me?’

She smiled faintly. ‘I’ll try, dear. But no promises.’

She picked up the dice and rolled them.