Lindsey Davis - The Jupiter Myth

Sinews were standing out in his forehead. Beads of sweat shone on his face. His mouth was a tight line, his eyes were squeezed shut; he was close to the limit.

Helena and I flung ourselves beside him, and dragged on the chain. I got one hand through the ring; there was no room for more. It was almost impossible to grip the cold slippery metal of the chain itself. Petronius breathed, but dared not give up. I carried less weight than him, though I did know how to use it; Helena was no feather, but she had never been the type of tomboy who did training at a gym. We all three clung on. The soldiers behind us must have been distracted by the chests of loot. I yelled for help, but we couldn't wait.

'Helena, fetch that coil of rope -' She obeyed, though when she loosed her grip on the chain, I felt it nearly jerk free. I could hardly talk to give instructions; luckily she was sharp. At my strained nod, she forced the rope through the ring we were holding then ran to secure it. The upper walkway was supported on huge timber posts. Helena was able to wind the rope around the nearest. She had the sense to turn both ends several times, then tried to knot them.

Men were now up on the walkway, running. A soldier appeared alongside us. Those above were seeking ways to take the strain on the balanced crate. Petro and I still clung on, scared to believe we were safe. We were not, yet. The nearest soldier desperately slashed his sword through the ropes holding Petronius. More men arrived. Nervously, Petro and I let go of the chain. Despite our alarm, Helena's rope held. Arms caught Petro as he staggered. A soldier and I dragged him sideways as half his ties were released. Almost fainting, Petronius sank to the ground. Then the timber post creaked ominously. Suddenly the rope gave way.

The crate crashed down in a hail of dust and rock. Amidst tremendous noise, huge chunks of debris missed us all by inches. Petronius lay groaning open mouthed, as the blood returned to his arms and hands. Coughing, Helena and I held him, massaging his stricken limbs and aching spine. His tunic was soaked, his brown hair plastered to his head with sweat.

'Dear gods. That was too close, my lad.' I waited for him to say, what kept you? but he was too shocked to speak. He leaned his head against my arm, eyes closed but gradually breathing more easily. A soldier brought a water bottle. We got some into him.

Above his head, my eyes met Helena's. She reached over and touched my cheek. I turned and kissed her palm as she withdrew it. Petronius forced himself to revive enough to smile at her.

He looked at me, searchingly. I reported the best and worst. 'We caught most of the gang. We've got Norbanus, but Florius was somehow missed. How in Hades did you and he get out?'

'Uniforms,' croaked Petro. He waved his arm and I saw familiar crimson material lying discarded by a bale. 'Red tunics.'

'Crixus!' The bad centurion had supplied the one disguise that would take Florius unnoticed almost anywhere if there was enough chaos going on around him.

'He's taking a boat.' Petro was still mithering. 'He had one hidden upriver. They've loaded more loot -'

'Don't talk,' murmured Helena.

'Never mind me – where's Maia?'

'We still don't know. But not here.'

Petronius squirmed into a more upright position. He held his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He moaned with frustration and misery. 'I don't think they ever had her.'

'They said they did,' I reminded him.

'They said a lot of things.'

Long before he should have done, he was dragging himself upright. I gave him a shoulder to lean on. Once we brought him outside, Helena tried to wrap him in Maia's cloak; he would have none of it, but when she told him whose it was, he took the garment and kept it over one shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against the woollen folds.

We walked up the quay back to the prisoners at the customs house. Petronius took note of all of them. He knew some of them from Rome. Silvanus was organising search parties for Florius and any other missed gang members. The wharf was still sealed, on the off-chance we would roust them out. Men were searching all the warehouses. A bunch of the troops had huddled around one of the abandoned full-size ballistae, exclaiming over its sophisticated design. 'It's a damned automatic repeater – look, you can fill this barrel and it fires off a whole load of bolts without having to reload -' I was amused to see Frontinus among them.

Eventually the governor tore himself away and arranged to remove the prisoners to safe custody, all except Norbanus. Petro wanted him.

As soon as the customs house was cleared for use, we took Norbanus in there. Petro picked up his sword as we went in. He first kicked aside but then gathered up another weapon, one of the vicious hand-held crossbows. 'I've always wanted one of these!'

'Look, it's got a top-speed ratchet and a perfect trigger – and some kind person has primed it. That must have been helpful Florius. Let's try it out,' I said, menacing our charge with a snarl. We had not even tied him up.

Why bother? Norbanus seemed to accept his fate, and the wharf outside was still full of legionaries. Some had remained inside here, but Petronius dismissed them; clearing away witnesses is always ominous for a prisoner.

'I'll have you here in the dark, out of public view,' Petronius told Norbanus pleasantly. 'Just in case I forget my manners.' The vigiles were known for their harsh enquiry methods.

'You could truss him up under some ballast,' I suggested. 'Like Florius did to you – or is that too good?' I kicked Norbanus unexpectedly. I kicked him very hard. 'Where's Maia?'

'I've no idea.' The businessman still sounded the same. Learning he was a master criminal should have altered our perception. Now we knew that the slick tongue and amiable smile were treacherous, yet he remained in character. It was real. That's how some gang leaders succeed in holding authority: apart from occasional lapses into murder, they have winning ways.

'Did you ever hold her?' Petronius demanded. He was the professional; I let him take the lead.

'A small deception.' Norbanus was rubbing his leg where I had lashed out. I don't normally resort to brutality, but my sister was still missing and I felt no regret.

Did she come to your villa?'

'I wouldn't know.'

'Florius was there. Did he see her?'

'I believe not.'

'Where is he now?'

'You will have to find him for yourself.'

'You admit you were partners?'

'I admit nothing.'

Petronius caught my eye. This was going to be a long business. We might never extract any useful information.

Helena appeared in a doorway. Petronius paused, unwilling to let her watch the dark actions afoot.

'Marcus -' She seemed unwilling to be in the vicinity of Norbanus, or else unwilling to see how we dealt with him.

'Unless it's urgent, I can't come.'

I had told her to go back to the residence along with the governor, but she was always clingy after I had been in danger.

'Never mind,' Helena said quickly.

'No, wait, What is it?'

'A boat.'

'Leaving?'

'No, arriving. Limping up with a broken mast.' It seemed irrelevant.

'So long as it's not Florius fleeing.'

'No, don't worry,' Helena assured me, and she withdrew.

I thought I heard excitable voices outside, but the heavy doors blocked out most sound. Petronius and I resumed our interrogation.

'Jupiter was a nice touch,' I said to Norbanus admiringly. 'The patron of wine, women and weather. Symbol of power too… But now you find out, Norbanus – thinking you had any power was the myth.'

Petronius laid down the crossbow and with the flat of his palm pushed Norbanus across the office where we were holding him. It was soft, encouraging movement; there was no need yet for drama.