Lindsey Davis - One Virgin Too Many

When hands grabbed my ankles, I jumped so much it nearly ruined everything. Rough timber scraped my spine. Suddenly I was jerked so fast I would have lost Gaia for certain, only by then other people had taken her. I remembered to unclench my teeth. All parts of my own body were being gripped ferociously, lest I fell back down.

I must have been safe because I heard Petro grunting, "Full moon below!" Yes. The worst had happened. I was now being tortured by my tunic, which had worked free, stifling me and exposing all my nether parts.

The jokes started coming thick and fast. "Is that what all the fuss has been about? A lot of women have been very loyal, I must say-"

"You'd shrink a bit if you'd been through what he just has!"

I didn't care. They had brought me out. These strong, insulting bastards were wonderful. I was swung like a sandbag, caught, hauled sideways, dropped gently onto earth. Air hit me. Bright June sun blinded me. The ropes loosened. The pain grew worse as my blood returned too fast to its accustomed channels. I could near Nux barking hysterically; then she must have escaped from whoever was holding her because next minute a hot tongue was passionately licking my face.

I wrenched violently sideways-and, yes, glimpsed the child. She was white-skinned, her clothes filthy, her dark hair tangled. The vigiles were rubbing her limbs furiously; then they bundled her into a blanket. One swept her up, and he set off at a run towards the house-so they thought she was alive.

They had laid me down on my side. Somebody was violently massaging my own shins and calves. Suddenly I became aware of my agony. I was so cold I had lost all feeling below my waist. My feet were free. People were dragging my boots off to attend to the entrenched weals made by the supporting ropes.

I could rest. I could stop being frightened. As I gasped for breath, my brain stopped fearing it would burst.

"Gaia-"

"She's alive. She's gone to the doctor. Well done."

I closed my eyes. The world stilled gradually.

"Do you want anything, Falco?"

"Peace. Merit among my equals. Restraint from the gods. The love of a good woman-that's a particular woman, by the way. The Blues to beat the bloody Greens into Hades. A home with its own bathhouse. A dog who doesn't smell. A pork rissole with rosemary and pine nuts, and a large beaker of red wine." I waited for one or another to tell me that I talked too much. They must all have collapsed with exhaustion too.

"I'm sure we can do you the rissole," offered young Aelianus after a moment. He sounded tired and remote.

"And the drink," said Petronius in an interested voice.

"We could fetch his woman for him," said Anacrites, also rather more friendly than his norm. "Assuming she wants to come."

I rolled on my back and looked at the three of them. They were all sitting on the turf around me. Despite the jibes, they looked devastated. Their hands, where they had paid out the rope, were lolling limply on their knees, red raw. Their heads hung. Their faces wore the drained and haggard look of men in shock who had been far too close to another's near death. They stared back, unable to do more.

"Thanks, partners," I said tenderly. "I'm glad you didn't leave me down there. I would never have wanted to be on your consciences."

"Think nothing of it," said one of them, smiling. I cannot even remember now which of them it was.