We had a quick scout round the farm, but the occupants must have scarpered. All we found were more evil odours, ants in the cheese press, and busy flies. Then, as we picked our way out along the rutted track, we ran into the black-chinned villain who had chased me that first day.
Milo was encumbered with Laesus, who saw this as his chance to escape and began struggling furiously. I took on the farmer. He was fresh, and I had made the mistake of letting myself relax. We circled ominously. He was missing the cudgel this time but I could tell from his stance that violent country wrestling was his speciality; I preferred games of skill. We grappled briefly, and the next moment I was lying on my back with all the breath knocked out of me. But I was fit after my holiday; so I scrambled up for the next throw, more wary this time.
It never came. There was a flash of white, an unexpected scurry, and before I could tackle him the farmer had collapsed headlong. A goat had knocked him flying-a goat whose wild eye and eager expression looked somehow familiar… I said, 'Your stock's well trained!' Then I gave the floored yokel a tap on the forehead that left him cold. He would wake up with a furious headache to find us long gone.
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.