My uncle groaned once and called out to the scribe. There was no answer. We could do nothing to help Mutatus, and I knew it was probably all over. For the scribe's sake, I hoped so. Like Diocles, he must have owned a sword and brought it here, in a crazy act of defiance and bravery. Unbelievable. We seemed to be there for hours. Eventually we heard Cassius arrive. He cursed, then hastened to release us. We fell out through the opened door, gasping, and he dragged us up the steps. Light and air dazzled us. Wiping sweat from my brow, along with who knows what, I stumbled to the body. It was Mutatus of course, and, of course, dead. I pulled him off the grid; he was not some damned cult sacrifice. I straightened him up on the floor of the shrine. His fingers had been shredded where he had tried to fend off blows from his own sword. Caninus had carved him as crudely as a raw recruit. Trust the damned navy not to know how to handle weapons. I knelt down in the pool of blood and closed the old scribe's eyes. Then I shut mine, genuinely grieving. When I stood up, the other two were watching me. Cassius, looking familiar now, must be fifteen years my uncle's junior. He had shed the beggar's rags and wiped off some of the grime, though he still had dirt camouflage stripes blackening his face. What a poser. I had not filthied up my face for an action since I stopped creeping around northern forests as an army scout. With only a bunch of toadstools to hide behind, at least there was some point. Grey-sideburned as he was now, in the straight nose and brown eyes I could still trace the handsome younger man for whom Fulvius had fallen. Biceps strained against the tight sleeves of his tunic, his big calves were muscular, and there was no fat on him. I had seen him before. he was the fourth man from the public latrine where only yesterday Caninus had taunted me about Fulvius. Together, they were as noncommittal as a married couple; they would share a commentary later, in bed, possibly. I preferred not to think about that.
He managed to avoid me," Cassius complained. The action man in the partnership, not doing much to help us. I found a blood trail leaving the sanctuary, but he slipped past me somehow."
Damned amateurs!" I was angry. At my feet lay a scribe who had exceeded his remit in the bravest way. Mutatus should have been pensioned off with honour, not crudely slain, with four or five ragged strokes, because this pair of incompetents could not round up one ageing corrupt attache who had already been wounded. Fulvius and Cassius exchanged glances. I'll go after him," offered Cassius. I pushed him aside. No, go!" But it was no longer necessary. Passus and a group of vigiles rushed into the shrine. They had men out already searching for Caninus, closer on his tracks than we would ever be now. Passus bent and inspected the departing trail of blood spots. I'll get a scent dog in."
You know it's Caninus we're after?"
Brunnus had told us. He's been checking up in Rome. The Ravenna boys are trying to keep it all quiet, but the big epaulettes in the Misenum Fleet overruled them. A full-scale hunt is on, but you know Rubella; he intends the Fourth to get all the glory." At the uproar of the vigiles" arrival, the bull had begun to vocalise again; I found the noise unbearable. The Fourth will have to catch Caninus then."
You know us, Falco!" I could relax. The experts were taking over. Shaken in body and sick at heart, I staggered outside. The evening was beautiful. The selfish gods must be unmoved by our tragedy. I threw up on the steps of the Temple of Attis, to the horror of a priest. Uncle Fulvius calmed down the bull in due course. Well, he was born on a farm. Once it was clear I was no longer needed, I left them all without a word and went home to my wife and family.