Flavia doubled over, trying desperately not to be sick, then furiously tackled Pulchra round the knees and brought her thudding down onto the dusty ground.
‘Oof!’ cried Pulchra.
Flavia straddled her but Pulchra writhed and twisted furiously.
Lupus, Jonathan and Leda watched in stunned amazement as the two girls rolled on the ground.
‘Ow!’ yelled Flavia, as Pulchra sunk her perfect white teeth into Flavia’s forearm. ‘Biting’s not fair!’ And she raked her fingernails hard across Pulchra’s cheek and neck.
Pulchra screamed and thrashed with her legs and arms.
Lupus and Jonathan moved forward to separate them, but the girls weren’t holding back now and the boys hesitated over the tumbling pair.
Somewhere up the hill, Scuto barked his warning bark, but they didn’t hear him. And they didn’t see the masked men come out of the bushes until it was too late.
There were only two of them, but they were strong men, hardened by living rough and scouring the mountains for stray children.
Lupus was the only one who got away.
Jonathan fought back, but was soon gasping for breath. A blow to his head left him stunned and sick on the ground. Leda simply stood there and allowed them to tie her hands. Flavia and Pulchra were still rolling in the dust when the masked men lifted them apart and wrenched their hands behind their backs. When she saw the leering masks, Pulchra screamed.
‘Pollux!’ cursed Flavia, and kicked out at the little one. But she was exhausted from fighting Pulchra and her foot failed to connect.
Within moments, the four of them stood in the hot sunshine, their hands bound tightly behind their backs. Flavia and Pulchra were still breathing hard, covered with dust and blood.
Scuto stood at the edge of the clearing, half wagging his tail. He was not sure whether it was a game or not.
‘Well, Actius,’ said the short one from behind his grinning mask, ‘this is the best haul we’ve had so far.’
‘It certainly is, Sorex, it certainly is,’ said the tall one, who also wore a mask. ‘Two lively ones and two not-so-lively ones.’
‘One got away.’
‘Yes. Pity about that one. But he was smaller. You have to throw the small ones back sometimes. Anyway, four brings the total up to fifty. A nice round number.’
‘A very nice round number,’ agreed Sorex. ‘Lucrio says the Patron promised another ten thousand sesterces if we could get our numbers up to fifty.’
The Patron.
Watching and listening from the bushes, Lupus couldn’t believe what he had heard. He felt sick. Could Felix really be behind this?
No, there must be some mistake. They couldn’t be Felix’s men. It must be another patron they meant. Surely if Felix was their patron they would recognise his daughter, Pulchra.
Besides, Felix used his power to help his clients, not hurt them. He had helped find the farmer’s daughter and he had lent the tent-maker money to help him expand his business. Lupus knew that Felix had personally paid for many of the provisions for the refugee camp.
He shifted to get a better viewpoint. The masked men were shoving his friends, prodding them across the clearing. Scuto stood nearby, his tail wagging hesitantly. Suddenly a black puppy raced down the hillside and sunk his teeth into the shorter man’s ankle. Unlike Scuto, Tigris knew the men were not playing a game.
The masked man cursed and kicked the puppy hard. Tigris flew up into the air, then landed in the dust with a thud. He lay motionless.
‘Tigris!’ Lupus saw Jonathan twist to look back. But the masked men laughed and pushed him roughly towards a rocky path which led down the mountain to the sea.
Jonathan needed all his powers of concentration to descend the path, but that was good. Anything which took his mind off the image of Tigris lying so still in the dust was good. So he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Going downhill was always harder than going uphill, because it was so easy to slip. And with his hands tied behind his back it was almost impossible to keep his balance.
Twice already Pulchra had slipped and skidded on her bottom down the path. The masked men had laughed before yanking her roughly to her feet. She had been sobbing ever since.
Suddenly Jonathan started to slip, too. He only just caught himself, but in doing so he wrenched his ankle and it hurt so much that tears sprang to his eyes.
‘Oh dear!’ said Sorex, who had an oddly high voice. ‘We almost lost Curlytop.’
‘Do you think we should untie their hands?’ said Actius. He was the tall one with the deeper voice.
‘And spoil all our fun?’ squeaked Sorex. ‘Not on your life. I wager two sesterces that Blondie’s going to fall at least once more before we reach the Green Grotto.’
‘You’re on.’
Lupus knelt beside Tigris and put one ear against the puppy’s chest. Tigris was very still, but he was still warm, and Lupus could hear his little heart beating. Scuto whined softly.
Lupus gathered the puppy into his arms and stood.
For a while he and Scuto followed the track down the mountain, but Tigris was a big puppy and Lupus’s arms soon grew tired. He stopped. He reckoned the men could only be going to one place. To the grotto from which he’d seen the ship emerging the day before. It must be their hideout.
Lupus didn’t need to go any further. He needed to get Tigris back to the Villa Limona. And then he needed to get help.
He would go to Felix. Despite what the masked men had said, he felt sure the Patron had nothing to do with the kidnappings. He knew Felix wouldn’t let him down.
At last Flavia and the others reached level ground. They were on the cliffs above the sea. The masked men were prodding them towards a small pomegranate tree between them and the cliff edge. It was only when they were nearly upon it that Flavia saw a depression in the ground with steps leading down. The masked men untied their hands.
‘Down you go,’ said Sorex, the small one. His eyes behind the grinning mask were cold. ‘Don’t try anything or you’ll go head first.’
Flavia started down the steps, followed by Pulchra, Jonathan, and Leda. Their captors took up the rear.
The stairs descended into darkness. As the weak white light of the overcast sun grew fainter behind her, Flavia moved carefully, feeling her way with her feet, fingertips touching damp rock on either side. Gradually the steps curved to the left and suddenly Flavia stepped out into a huge, cool, blue-green space.
It was a grotto.
‘Move along!’ Sorex’s nasal voice echoed strangely in the vast space. Flavia found herself standing on a broad shelf of rock. Before her, a pool of milky blue water filled the dome of the cave with a bluish-green light. Above Flavia’s head, the ceiling was ridged and arched, like the roof of Scuto’s mouth when he yawned. Somewhere water dripped, echoing eerily in the vast enclosed space. Bright daylight streamed in to her right. Flavia knew that must be the way out to the sea.
She was just wondering whether she should risk jumping in the water and trying to swim away when the one called Actius tied her hands behind her back again.
The kidnappers had removed their masks before coming down the dangerous steps and now Flavia saw their faces. Sorex had a small red mouth, a snub nose and a cleft chin. Actius had a large head and big smooth features.
Flavia heard footsteps and saw a third man approaching from the left. His face, lit green by the shimmering water, looked familiar. It was the announcer from the refugee camp, the man who had introduced the two actors.
‘Hey, Lucrio. Look what we found wandering the hills.’ Sorex’s high voice echoed in the vast space of the grotto.
‘Well, well, well!’ said Lucrio. He had a narrow face and cheeks dark with stubble. ‘Just in time for delivery, too. Let’s introduce them to the others.’
Leda was nearest him. He shoved her roughly towards the back of the cave. The others stumbled after her.
As they rounded a curve on the shelf of rock, Flavia gasped. T
he cave extended further back, and the rocky shelf became a sandy beach leading down to the water. Huddled on the damp sand against the dripping cave wall were nearly fifty children, hands bound, dimly lit by the blue-green light reflecting off the water. Flavia scanned their faces hopefully, but Nubia was not among them.
Flavia wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.
It was two hours after noon when Lupus got back to the Villa Limona with Tigris and Scuto. His arms were aching. Tigris had revived but had been too groggy to walk. Lupus had carried him all the way.
The porter recognised him and let him in with a yawn. Lupus left the dogs in his bedroom, then went to the kitchens to get them some food and drink. Back in his room, he gave them each a marrow bone and filled their water bowls. Then he grunted Stay!
Tigris had curled up on Jonathan’s pillow but Scuto whined. Lupus knew he wanted to search for Flavia.
Lupus grunted Stay! again, and this time Scuto gave a deep sigh and lay down beside Tigris. Lupus patted his head.
Then he went to find the Patron.
‘Sit there on the sand,’ said Sorex, pushing Flavia roughly forward.
‘I need to use the latrine,’ whimpered Pulchra. Her voice sounded tiny in the vast cavern.
‘As you can probably smell,’ said Actius with a shrug, ‘everyone just goes in the sand where they’re sitting.’
Pulchra looked at him in horror. She opened her mouth to wail and then thought better of it. Instead she turned to Lucrio, who was obviously the leader.
‘Do you know who I am?’ she said.
The three men exchanged glances.
‘I am Polla Pulchra!’
Lucrio, Sorex and Actius looked at Pulchra.
They looked at each other.
Then they burst out laughing. Pulchra’s hair was tangled and full of twigs. Her drab green tunic was ripped along the shoulder seam. Her face was grubby and smudged, with four red scratch marks across her left cheek and a smear of dried blood beneath her nose.
‘That’s a good one, darling,’ said Sorex in his high voice. ‘Shows real imagination!’
‘Besides,’ said Lucrio, ‘I saw Polla Pulchra once, and you’re nothing like her.’
‘Nonsense! I’m Pulchra and this is my slave Leda. Tell them, Leda. Tell them who I am.’
But Leda was so terrified that she couldn’t even raise her eyes.
‘So,’ said Lucrio, ‘she’s your slave, is she? Let’s just have a look and see how you’ve treated her.’
He stepped over to Leda and tugged the back of her tunic neck. The slave-girl winced.
‘You freeborn types make me sick,’ Lucrio snarled at Pulchra. ‘Don’t you realise slaves have feelings, too?’
‘All of you, turn around!’ commanded Sorex. ‘Come on, Curlytop. You too, Knobbly-knees. Turn around.’
They stared at him blankly, so he roughly turned them to face the children who sat shivering on the sand.
Flavia tried to smile bravely down at the wretched faces looking up at her. Some of the children lowered their eyes in shame, as if they knew what was coming. One boy with reddish hair stared back at her steadily and she felt he was trying to give her courage.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Actius to Leda, ‘you’ve been beaten quite enough. Stop crying. Maybe your new master will be kinder.’ Flavia saw Leda stumble forward onto the sand, as if she’d been pushed.
‘Which one first?’ came Lucrio’s cultured voice from behind them. ‘Knobbly-knees, I think. You do the honours, Sorex. And try not to damage the merchandise.’
There was an ominous pause.
Then Flavia felt a searing streak of pain across her back. And then another. And another.
They were beating her.
The Villa Limona seemed strangely empty. There were a few drowsy slaves in yellow, but all the dark-haired young men in fashionable sea-green seemed to have gone. Lupus couldn’t find Felix anywhere. The atrium was silent and the double doors of the tablinum locked. The inner gardens and courtyards shimmered in the hot afternoon, and even the baths were deserted.
‘The Patron left an hour ago,’ said the porter. ‘Not sure where he’s gone.’
At last Lupus found Polla Argentaria sitting in her shaded portico, gazing out over the blue Bay of Neapolis.
‘Hello, again,’ she smiled. ‘Sit beside me for a while.’
Lupus shook his head vigorously and held out the tablet he’d been showing to anyone who could read:
WHERE IS FELIX? I MUST SEE HIM.
‘My husband left for Rome a little while ago.’
Lupus wrote with a trembling hand:
PULCHRA IS IN TROUBLE! KIDNAPPERS.
‘Sit beside me for a moment,’ smiled Polla, patting the yellow cushion. Lupus was exhausted, so he sank gratefully onto the chair. Polla would know what to do.
‘I have a theory about my husband,’ she said, ‘which I’ve never told anyone before.’
Lupus looked at her in surprise, but she put an elegant finger to her lips and smiled at him. ‘I believe,’ she said, ‘that my husband is part man, part god. Like Hercules.’
Lupus stared at her.
‘For a long time,’ Polla continued serenely, ‘I wondered which of the gods was his father. At first I thought it was Jupiter, but now I think it was Dionysus.’
Lupus gave her a look of alarm and held up his wax tablet, pointing urgently at Pulchra’s name. Couldn’t Polla read?
‘No, no.’ She touched his arm with fingers as cool and light as a butterfly. ‘Don’t worry about Pulchra. The son of Dionysus will protect her.’
Polla smiled and closed her eyes.
Jonathan sat miserably on the damp sand, his back on fire with pain.
Flavia sat next to him, shivering and silent. Sorex had beaten her hard, too, though he had taken care not to break the skin.
‘Don’t damage the merchandise,’ Lucrio had growled once or twice.
Poor Pulchra lay in the sand on Jonathan’s other side. Lucrio had beaten her himself because she had shrieked with each blow and this had amused them greatly.
‘We are the pirates, the pirates of Pompeii!’ Sorex and Actius had sung, and with each ‘pirates’ Lucrio had struck Pulchra’s back. After a while she had fainted, so they dropped her on the sand and went off towards the stairs.
As Jonathan sat trembling with pain and fear and shame, he closed his eyes and prayed.
Almost immediately a thought came into his head. A thought as fully formed and solid as a pebble dropped in a bucket. ‘Make them laugh.’
He thought about this for a moment. He didn’t really understand what it meant but he knew it was something he could do. When he’d attended school at Ostia’s synagogue he’d always been in trouble for making the others laugh.
Jonathan took a breath, struggled to his feet and looked around. Some of the children looked up at him, terrified of what the pirates might do if they came back and saw him standing. The others kept their eyes averted.
‘Hello everyone,’ he began, but his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat. ‘Hello! My name is Jonathan. Those men captured me, laughed at me and beat me. And that makes me angry. But you know what makes me angriest of all?’
They were all looking at him now.
‘What makes me angriest of all is that they called my friend Flavia here, well, they called her Knobbly-knees. And that makes me really angry!’ Some of the children tittered and the red-haired boy laughed out loud.
Jonathan smiled down at Flavia. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face smeared with dust. But there was a gleam in her grey eyes and she rose awkwardly to join him. She turned and looked at them all.
‘Hi!’ she said, as brightly as she could. ‘My name’s Flavia Gemina, daughter of Marcus Flavius Geminus, sea captain. Do you think I have knobbly knees?’
The red-haired boy called out, ‘You have beautiful knees!’ More children laughed and Flavia gave him a mock bow.
‘Tell me, Flavia,’
said Jonathan. ‘How many pirates does it take to light an oil-lamp?’
‘I don’t know, Jonathan,’ said Flavia, playing along. ‘How many pirates does it take to light an oil-lamp?’
‘Three,’ said Jonathan. ‘One to light the wick and two to sing the pirate song!’
Several more children laughed at the audacity of this. Pulchra lifted her head from the sand and blinked groggily.
‘Tell me, Jonathan. How many patrons does it take to light an oil-lamp?’
‘I don’t know, Flavia.’ Jonathan looked at the children and wiggled his eyebrows up and down. ‘How many patrons does it take to light an oil-lamp?’
‘Only one, but he can’t do it unless twenty clients kiss his . . .’
‘Flavia!’
More laughter.
‘You know, Flavia,’ said Jonathan. ‘I was in Pompeii last week and a funny thing happened to me on the way to the forum . . .’
‘Yes?’ said Flavia.
‘It wasn’t there any more!’ Everyone laughed at this dreadful joke, including Jonathan. The laughter made his back hurt less.
‘Anyone here from Oplontis?’ he said.
A few children nodded.
‘Well, we won’t hold it against you . . .’ The laughing children were looking at him with shining eyes.
‘Anyone here named Apollo?’ said Jonathan.
‘I am,’ said a boy with dark brown hair. He sat up straighter.
‘I think you’d better go and sit with the kids from Oplontis,’ said Jonathan.
‘Is there a Rufus here?’ said Flavia suddenly.
‘That’s me,’ said the red-haired boy.
‘Well your sister Julia and your grandparents miss you, Rufus, so I don’t know what you’re still hanging around here for.’
‘And Melissa . . .’ said Jonathan. ‘Boy! Are you in a lot of trouble with your father!’
A frizzy-haired girl laughed through her tears.
‘My name’s Helena Cornelia!’ cried another girl. ‘Have you seen my parents?’
‘I’m Quintus Caedius Curio,’ called a boy.
‘I’m Thamyris,’ said another.
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 36