The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection

by Lawrence, Caroline

  ‘And my dolphin is pushing my feet from underneath,’ said Nubia.

  ‘That was amazing!’ said Flavia, unpinning her wet hair and attacking the tangles with a fine-toothed comb. ‘Did you see it, Lupus?’

  Lupus shook his head.

  ‘When Nubia put her feet together and made her body stiff, her dolphin came from underneath and pushed her right up out of the water!’

  Lupus nodded, but kept his eyes on the horizon.

  Flavia stopped combing for a moment and glanced over at Aristo. He frowned and shook his head.

  ‘So,’ said Flavia, as she resumed combing her hair, ‘it’s turned out to be a beautiful day. The clouds are gone and the water’s lovely. Are we going to try for the treasure again?’

  Lupus sat on Jonathan’s boat shelf and prepared himself.

  He had wrapped a strip of clean linen around his ears so the water would not get in and make them bleed.

  He had swallowed his diver’s concoction earlier in the day and had also been drinking lots of fresh water after his morning beaker of salted water.

  He could now hold his breath for a count of one hundred and eighty. Almost twice as long as two days ago.

  He knew exactly where the small amphora of gold was. He’d been dreaming about it all night.

  Jonathan’s special float-rope was ready, attached to the anchor which would pull him down faster than any stone.

  He had a sharp knife to cut the cords attaching the float-rope to the anchor, once he’d hooked the amphora onto it.

  He even had a pouch which he could fill with gold, in case the amphora was still too heavy to lift.

  Nothing could go wrong.

  Lupus leaned forward on his bench and wet his face and then the back of his neck. After a moment he slipped into the water and swam to the anchor, which Phrixus had lowered just below the surface. Lupus checked that the float-rope was securely attached, then put his feet on either side of the V-shaped bottom of the anchor and gripped its T-shaped top.

  Still holding this rough iron bar, Lupus took several short quick breaths until he felt almost dizzy. He forced the air from his lungs and breathed in as much as he could. Then he sucked in a bit more. And a bit more. When he felt his lungs would burst he nodded at Phrixus.

  Phrixus tapped the wooden peg from the winch.

  The anchor plunged down into the sea.

  Lupus had never descended so quickly. The cold blue depths of the water swallowed him whole. He gripped the anchor tightly and closed his eyes for a moment. It felt as if his stomach had leapt into his throat.

  He opened his eyes to see the wreck already rushing up to him. They had judged it well. He let go of the anchor and watched it continue its plunge to the sandy bottom.

  His lungs did not feel like bursting any more. They felt good: full of air, and he had as yet not the least desire to breathe.

  But as he swam towards the wreck he frowned. The gap in the ship’s hull had changed shape and it was bigger. Much bigger. How could this have happened? Something was wrong.

  Lupus easily swam through the breach. As he scanned the deep blue interior of the hull, he cursed inwardly.

  All the amphoras had shifted position. It was as if Neptune had picked up the ship, given it a shake and put it down again. What could have caused this?

  Lupus swam back and forth – touching, pushing, shoving the amphoras – until threads of blood drifted up from his fingertips. He searched desperately for the small amphora with the broken neck. Or even one like it. But the only amphoras he could see were almost as big as he was.

  All his work for nothing! If only Aristo had let him make that last dive yesterday, at least he would have a pouch full of gold.

  His heart was pounding now and he felt like howling with frustration. His anger had used up the last of his air. He must regain his calm. He would simply keep diving until he found the small amphora. Or one like it. But now he needed to get back to the surface.

  He turned and kicked back towards the breach. But as he started to pull himself through the gap in the hull something in the black water stroked his ankle.

  Was it seaweed? Rope?

  The thing around his ankle tightened and as Lupus felt the grip of living flesh his stomach clenched. As soon as he turned his head, he saw its eyes gleaming in the shadows behind the amphoras.

  Octopus! An enormous one! He clutched the rough timber on either side of the gap, tried to pull himself through to safety.

  But the powerful tentacle was stronger than he was. Lupus felt his bleeding fingers begin to slip. Another moment and the octopus would pull him back into the dark belly of the wreck.

  ‘He’s taking a long time,’ said Flavia.

  Jonathan tried to concentrate. He was counting for Lupus: ‘. . . one hundred and eighty-one, one hundred and eighty-two, one hundred and eighty-three . . .’

  ‘I think I feel a tug,’ said Aristo.

  ‘Then pull him up!’ cried Flavia.

  Aristo shook his head. ‘If I start pulling when he’s still inside the ship, it could make him hit his head on the beams and knock him unconscious.’

  As Lupus lost his hold on the wreck he thought quickly. If the octopus drew him deeper the other tentacles would grip him. Then he would be lost. Quickly he looped part of his hemp lifeline around a projecting timber of the hull. That would buy him a moment or two.

  With the octopus pulling his leg and the lifeline cutting into his armpits, he reached for the razor-sharp knife at his belt. He knew from experience that he could not pull off an octopus’s tentacle. The only way was to cut it cleanly. But to do that he would have to cut his lifeline first.

  Part of his mind was screaming for air. But another part was calm. He had one chance.

  Lupus fumbled for his knife and cut the lifeline. Then, as he felt himself being pulled deeper in, he twisted and hacked at the tentacle round his ankle.

  The octopus reacted instinctively. A cloud of black ink mingled with its blood and even as the other arms writhed towards him out of the gloom, Lupus frog-kicked out through the gap.

  He was desperate for air now. He couldn’t inhale, but at least he could exhale. The bubbles rose and he followed them up, tugging at the water, kicking desperately with his legs. Up towards the light. But now, instead of growing lighter it seemed to be growing darker. And colder. He had lost his bearings. He slowed and stopped. Was he going up or down?

  Lupus didn’t know any more. There was no lifeline to guide him. He only knew one thing: that he had to breathe.

  And so he did.

  ‘Two hundred and ten!’ yelled Jonathan, a look of alarm on his face.

  ‘Pull, Aristo!’ cried Flavia, and Nubia nodded.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Aristo. He pulled the line. ‘It’s stuck . . . It’s . . .’ He tugged again. ‘Now it seems to be coming up quite easily,’ he said in surprise.

  A few moments later they all stared in dismay at the hemp lifeline. There was nothing attached to its end.

  As the water filled Lupus’s lungs, a deep calm settled over him. He floated in a blue-green world, peacefully aware of the beauty around him. A shoal of golden fish flickered past him and then another, silver this time, like a ball of quicksilver that shifted and melted as it moved.

  Lupus smiled. Something was coming towards him from the sapphire depths. The pale smiling face was strangely familiar. Lupus laughed as Neptune’s messenger gently nudged him.

  It was Delphinus, coming to take him home.

  Flavia’s eyes were red with weeping. Jonathan had his arm around her but his face was white as chalk. Nubia was dry-eyed. She sat stiff-backed in the boat and stared fixedly at the water.

  At last Aristo surfaced and shook his head. He pulled himself dripping back into the boat.

  As Phrixus tossed him a towel, Flavia burst into tears again. ‘It’s all my fault!’ she sobbed. ‘It was my idea to dive for sunken treasure. Oh Aristo! How will the gods ever forgive me?’

 
Aristo shook his head and pulled on his tunic.

  Suddenly, a chattering laugh bubbled up from the water. Nubia rose slowly to her feet and Flavia looked up at her.

  ‘Behold!’ whispered Nubia. Then she burst into tears.

  They all turned to see a sleek dolphin nudging Lupus’s body towards the boat.

  Jonathan took charge.

  ‘Let me,’ he said as they pulled the boy’s dripping body into the boat. ‘I know what to do.’

  Aristo nodded and stepped back. They all watched as Jonathan knelt beside Lupus and tipped the boy’s head back so that his tongueless mouth was open and his chin pointed to the sky.

  Jonathan put his mouth over Lupus’s and blew. Then he took his mouth away and pushed on Lupus’s chest. Then he blew. Then he pushed. Then he blew.

  After a while he looked up fiercely. ‘Pray!’ he commanded, and lowered his mouth to Lupus’s again.

  Presently some water gurgled out of the corner of Lupus’s mouth. The boy shuddered, then coughed and was sick onto the folded canvas beneath him.

  Jonathan sat back, trembling. Flavia hugged him and then hugged Lupus and then hugged Nubia and then hugged Jonathan again. Aristo wrapped Lupus in the towel and held him tightly.

  After a time, Aristo passed Lupus back to the girls, who cradled the semi-conscious boy on their laps.

  Aristo and Phrixus gripped the oars and pulled towards home.

  The dogs stood at the prow, tails wagging, and Jonathan sat at the rudder, trying to steer through a blur of tears.

  ‘Lupus almost died,’ whispered Flavia to her friends, as they trudged across the hot sand. Aristo went before them, carrying Lupus up the beach towards the villa.

  ‘He did die,’ said Jonathan quietly. ‘When I breathed my spirit into him his heart had stopped.’

  ‘How did you know what to do?’ asked Flavia. ‘I mean, how to breathe some of your spirit into him?’

  ‘I saw my father do it once. He saved a little boy. We were at some friends. Their three-year-old fell into the impluvium and drowned, but father brought him back to life.’

  ‘Will it hurt you?’ asked Nubia. ‘Losing some of your spirit?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Jonathan. ‘I ask God to breathe his spirit into me every day. That should fill up any gaps.’

  ‘What do you think happened down there?’ asked Flavia. ‘Why didn’t Lupus come up sooner?’

  ‘Look at the marks on his leg,’ grunted Aristo, over his shoulder. He stopped to let Phrixus open the villa gate and the three friends examined Lupus’s legs.

  ‘Behold!’ cried Nubia. ‘White circles on his leg!’

  ‘Octopus?’ said Flavia.

  Aristo nodded grimly. ‘And a big one, judging by the size of those marks.’

  Lupus groaned.

  ‘He must have been terrified down there,’ murmured Jonathan.

  Phrixus held the door open and they followed Aristo up the steps and into the hot, violet-scented terrace which led to the sea-view triclinium.

  Still carrying Lupus, Aristo stepped into the bright dining-room.

  Then he stopped dead in his tracks. Flavia and the others almost bumped into him. But they stopped, too, when they saw what Aristo was staring at.

  Miriam and Pliny were standing close together by one of the pink spiral columns. She had her hands on his shoulders and she was kissing him.

  ‘Miriam!’ cried Flavia. ‘What are you doing? You’re engaged to Uncle Gaius!’

  Miriam whirled to face them and her cheeks flushed.

  ‘I wasn’t doing anything,’ she stammered. ‘I was just thanking Gaius for a gift.’

  ‘Where’s Gaius?’ asked Jonathan, looking around.

  ‘Gaius is my first name, too,’ said Pliny, with a modest cough. ‘And your sister is right. She didn’t do anything wrong. She merely gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek.’

  Pliny put his hand protectively on Miriam’s shoulder, but it fell away as she stepped towards Aristo.

  ‘What’s wrong with Lupus?’ she asked.

  ‘He almost drowned,’ said Aristo.

  ‘Dear Lord,’ whispered Miriam.

  ‘Will he be all right?’ asked Pliny.

  Aristo gave him a curt nod.

  ‘Jonathan saved his life,’ said Flavia. ‘He breathed some of his spirit into Lupus and brought him back from death!’

  ‘Oh Jonathan!’ Miriam ran to her younger brother and hugged him. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  Lupus groaned and Aristo muttered, ‘Boy’s getting a bit heavy, here. Where shall I put him?’

  ‘Put him in Captain Geminus’s room,’ said Miriam. ‘There’s an extra couch and I can tend them both. Follow me.’

  ‘Lead on,’ said Aristo through clenched teeth, and followed her out through the green marble columns.

  ‘And suddenly Lupus coughed and was sick, and then he was alive again!’

  Flavia was telling her father about Lupus’s near-death experience. ‘We think it must have been a giant octopus!’ she whispered, with a glance towards Lupus’s couch. Nubia stood near Flavia, who had perched on Captain Geminus’s bed.

  Flavia’s father was propped up on half a dozen soft cushions. He smiled at the girls and closed his eyes for a moment.

  Miriam had closed the latticework shutters against the late afternoon sun and the light spread a pattern of bright hexagons over his blanket.

  ‘Is the sunshine in your eyes?’ Flavia asked him.

  Marcus opened his eyes again and shook his head. ‘No. It’s fine. It’s a good room here. Very quiet and peaceful. And Miriam’s a good nurse.’

  Nubia looked over at the other couch. Miriam was sitting beside Lupus and spooning chicken soup into his tongueless mouth. She was wearing a pink tunic with a pale green mantle wrapped round her slender waist. She had tied up her dark curls with a mint-green scarf. It covered the part of her scalp where some of her hair had been burnt away.

  Lupus turned his head aside when he had eaten enough and closed his eyes. Miriam stood and put the half-empty soup-bowl on a bronze table beside his couch. Then she approached Captain Geminus and the girls.

  Up close, Nubia could see Miriam’s new earrings. They were fat little dolphins, with eyes like daisies.

  ‘Are these the Pliny earrings?’ whispered Nubia, touching one with her forefinger. It was heavy and she could tell it was made of pure gold. ‘They are so beautiful.’

  Miriam stood still and allowed the girls to examine them. ‘He gave them to me because you all had your dolphins and he thought I would like some, too.’

  ‘Why didn’t you come down to the beach with us?’ asked Flavia. ‘You would have loved swimming with the dolphins.’

  ‘I don’t know how to swim,’ said Miriam quietly. ‘Besides, I’m looking after the invalid.’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ grumbled Flavia’s father. ‘You know I hate that word.’

  Miriam laughed and showed her perfect white teeth.

  Nubia sighed. Everything Miriam did, even her slightest gesture, was breathtaking. It was no wonder so many men were in love with her.

  Suddenly Jonathan’s head appeared in the doorway. He was breathing hard. ‘Come quickly!’ he gasped. ‘You’ve got to see this. Aristo and Pliny are having a fight in the ball court!’

  Built against the grain-tower between the garden and a colonnade was a sunny ball court. Flavia and her friends stopped in the deep shade of the colonnade and stared into the bright sunken courtyard. The ball court had smooth red plaster walls on three sides and a hard earth floor. Black lines were painted in various places on the walls and floor and Flavia knew they were markers for the ball, to tell whether it was in or out.

  She had seen women playing the game once in the baths in Rome, and she knew that Aristo and Pliny were not doing it right. The ball and their wicker bats lay forgotten in one sunny corner and the two men were rolling on the floor.

  At twenty-one, Aristo was older, stronger, and taller, but seventeen-yea
r-old Pliny had obviously mastered some useful wrestling moves. He had his knee on Aristo’s neck and was squashing the young Greek’s face into the dirt. Flavia clapped her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Admit it,’ demanded Pliny, whose face was quite pink. He was twisting Aristo’s arm back. ‘You cheated!’

  Aristo gasped and tried to speak. Pliny eased up a little.

  ‘No!’ spat out Aristo, and suddenly writhed under him. ‘I did not cheat!’

  After an undignified scuffle, the positions were reversed: Aristo, hair and tunic covered with dust, now gripped their host in a complicated twist of arms and legs. ‘You cheated!’ He wrenched Pliny’s arm. ‘You’re trying to buy her affection with gifts. Admit you love her.’

  ‘Never!’ gasped Pliny, and even though he was in the submissive position he cried, ‘why don’t you admit you love her!’

  ‘Freely!’ cried Aristo, throwing up his hands in a dramatic gesture and letting Pliny fall forward onto the hard earth. ‘I admit I love her. I’m not a coward like you! I admit it for the world to hear. I love Miriam!’

  Beside her column, Miriam uttered a choked cry.

  Slowly, Aristo and Pliny turned their heads towards the shaded colonnade.

  ‘Oh,’ said Aristo with a sheepish grin. ‘Hello, Miriam!’

  ‘What,’ said Miriam, ‘are you two doing?’

  Aristo had just helped Pliny up off the ground. Now he was attempting to brush some of the dust from his host’s tunic.

  ‘Um . . . We were just practising some wrestling moves,’ he said. ‘Pliny was showing me one called the Spartan Shoulder-pull.’

  ‘He’s a very quick learner,’ said Pliny. He slapped Aristo’s back in a gesture of manly affection, and the dust which puffed up started them both off coughing.

  Miriam walked slowly down the steps and into the bright courtyard. She stopped in front of them.

  ‘You weren’t practising.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘You were fighting over me. Weren’t you?’