Lindsey Davis - Shadows in Bronze

The animal that flattened him let out an impassioned bleat, then launched at me. I struggled to stay upright, fending off the attentions of yet another old friend from Croton I had never expected to encounter again.

Laesus looked self-conscious. 'Every time we got the fire lit she ran off. She's nothing but trouble, Falco; you can have her back-'

And so we left that filthy hideaway: Milo dragging Laesus on one piece of rope, and me holding another string to lead my sacred goat.

When we arrived in Oplontis I put Milo in charge of escorting the sea captain to a berth in the Herculaneum jail. My personal grudge dictated I go for Pertinax myself. Milo understood that; pursuing grudges was a hobby of his own.

Although Helena Justina was still at the inn, Larius assured me in an undertone there had been no sign of Pertinax. I reckoned I knew why. That snob would never expect a senator's daughter to stay in such deplorable surroundings solely to help stricken friends; he would assume she still lived at the villa. Yet even if he did know we had her, we could frighten him off now. Aemilia Fausta had been as good as her word. She had already sent transport for our invalid and his family – plus an armed guard from Herculaneum who were so excited at the prospect of action they intended to stab first and ask questions afterwards.

I drew Larius to one side.

'I'm going up to the villa Rustica. I don't know what I'll find. I need you to look after the people I'm responsible for. I want them all to leave Campania. I don't like the way Pertinax is preoccupied with Helena; it's not safe. If I tell her the truth, she'll argue. So we'll say that Petronius Longus is being whisked back to Rome under armed guard because he is a material witness, and I'll ask Helena Justina to go too-'

‘To supervise?' grinned Larius; I chortled back abstractedly.

‘Yes; she'll like that…' Then I looked at him properly. ‘You were a good lieutenant on this trip. I could use you, Larius. Drawing the Battle of Actium three times a month is soul-destroying. You ought to be using your grit and initiative – and be showing off to girls! Want a job as my assistant back in Rome?

My nephew laughed. He told me frankly that he had more sense.

I got them away that night. The cavalcade left in a resinous tang of torches: a rapidly convened train of baggage and querulous children, led by Larius and Ollia's fisherboy driving Nero with Petro's culleus of wine. We had certainly assembled a quaint batch of souvenirs. Milo's shrimp took charge of my goat, who was being sent with Nero to live on Petro's cousins' farm.

When it came to the point, my plans crumbled: face to face with Helena I told her the truth.

'Yes, I see.' She always had a quiet response to a genuine emergency, though obedience to my instructions had never featured much in our relationship. 'Marcus, is it still your intention to put Pertinax under arrest?'

'He has two deaths now to answer for, plus the attack on Petronius. Whatever his old father thinks, Pertinax is no longer simply a conspirator who can hope for an amnesty. After his arrest on the Iris, he must know it himself. But that only makes him more desperate.'

'I was so hoping we could find a way to make things right for him-'

'I hate you to defend him!'

Helena held me by the shoulders, looking miserably anxious. ‘Marcus, I had more loyalty to you after four minutes in your arms than I felt towards him after four years of marriage – though that does not mean I have no loyalty to Pertinax at all.'

I caught her face between my hands. 'Helena! You have to let him go!'

'I know that,' she said slowly.

'I don't think so! When you reach Rome, stay indoors and if Pertinax tries to contact you, you must refuse!'

'Marcus, promise me one thing: don't kill him.'

'I don't want to kill him.' She said nothing. 'Helena my love, someone may have to.'

'If it has to be done, let somebody else be responsible. Marcus, don't forget that whatever you do, you and I will always have to live with it-'

That 'always' was a hard one to resist. Suddenly I was seeing her in closer focus, as I had not done since Petronius had been attacked. 'If I leave him free to murder again, I shall have to live with that!'

Helena Justina gave a long, ironic sigh. 'Then I shall have to bury him.'

'Duty's a wonderful thing!'

There were tears in her eyes. 'And what am I to do if he kills you?'

'He won't,' I said harshly. 'I can promise you that!'

I stopped her talking, as I held her tighter and smiled tenderly into her anxious eyes, shutting out all thoughts of Pertinax. She was holding me in a way that reminded me how badly I wanted her. She looked exhausted. She had been here at the inn with me for almost a week, uncomplaining and supportive even when I dragged in at night too far gone to eat the meal she had saved for me, let alone to provide any demonstration of my love.

‘We've been living together here,' I acknowledged ruefully. 'And I've been too preoccupied even to notice it!'

‘Ah well!' smiled Helena in her dry, practical way. 'I had always assumed that was what living with you would be like!'

I promised, ‘One day we'll do it properly.'

Helena Justina studied me, standing very still. ‘You know that's what I want,' she said.

Then I kissed her, trying not to let it seem like the last kiss I might ever give her, and Helena kissed me – so sweetly and for so long I almost dreaded that she thought it was.

Everyone was waiting for us. I had to let her go.

At the Villa Marcella I was met by Gordianus.

‘I thought you were on funeral duty, sir.'

'Too anxious to relax. Where's Milo?'

'Herculaneum; incarcerating the sea captain. What's the situation here?'

'Caprenius Marcellus has had a stroke-'

‘Don't believe it! As an invalid that old man is as genuine as a reluctant wife claiming a headache-'

'It's true, Falco; the doctor says another will finish him.'

'Pertinax?'

'No sign. But his father is convinced he will come.'

'Just you and me then, sir, sitting at the Villa Marcella, waiting it out…'

Us, waiting for him at the villa. And Pertinax out there somewhere, waiting for the grain ships to arrive from Alexandria.

Strokes were something I knew. My Great-uncle Scam, an eccentric old rascal, not least for being fond of me, had several (though in fact my amiable uncle died from choking on home-made false teeth). I went in to inspect Marcellus for myself.

The diagnosis was correct. It's grim to see an intelligent man so drastically struck down. The worst aspect was that his slaves were terrified. So he was not only paralysed and robbed of proper speech; he had the added indignities of being treated like an idiot and seeing his servants afraid to deal with him.

I had nothing else to do, so I set about interpreting. At least when he wanted a drink or his pillows raised he could be made comfortable more quickly. I sat with him; read to him; even – since I was handy and it saved fuss – helped the poor old devil to his sickbed commode. The range of my work never failed to amaze me. Here I was: a trireme smash yesterday; a dogfight today; now a consul's nurse.

‘You're doing well!' Gordianus commented, looking in.

‘I feel like his wife. Next thing, I'll be complaining about my dress allowance and the Consul here will call my mother an interfering witch.'

‘What's he saying now?'

‘Ah, he wants to change his will.'

The Consul dribbled agitatedly. 'Helena… Gnaeus!'

I asked, 'You want to leave your estates to Helena, so she can hand them on to Gnaeus?' He lay back, satisfied. I folded my arms, letting him see I was unimpressed. 'Lucky you trust the lady! Most of them would snatch your money, then run off with the nearest low-rank muscleman who has a hint of disreputable promise in his smile-'