"Apologise!"

"A stupid move," she admitted. "That was him, not me." That was him dead then, I thought.

"And what are you doing here?" I demanded accusingly.

"Earning my fare home. You know the bureau: mean with expenses."

"You're still following my sister."

"I don't give two sleeve-pins for your bloody sister-'

A draft hit us. The noise dimmed for a moment as men sank their noses into beakers thirstily. The crowd in the outer door had moved to allow somebody admittance. It was someone whose manner always made men move aside for her. My sister walked in.

A woman screamed.

Helena was off that bench like a centipede fleeing the spade edge. Fighting through the press, she came to the curtained anteroom. It looked dark but we could see flailing limbs. A foul hole in which to deflower a fool.

Helena reached the couple first. She had slipped between the drinkers where my wider shoulders jammed. While I was discouraging those whose beakers I had jogged, Helena Justina broke in on Blandus as he attempted to rape the screaming Hyspale. I saw Helena tear down the hide curtain, heard her yell at him. I called out. Somewhere behind me, I was aware of her brothers shouting. Other men turned to watch the scene, impeding me more. As I battled on, Helena took hold of the inevitable amphora used to imply fancy decor; she heaved it up, swung it and crashed it down on Blandus.

He was tough. Now he was furious too. He threw himself off Hyspale and turned on Helena. He had grabbed her by the arms. I was desperate. Helena Justina was brought up to wear white, think clean thoughts, encounter nothing more exciting that a little light poetry read to her in a nice accent. Since she came to me I had taught her good sense on the streets and where to kick intruders so it hurt but she was no match for Blandus. Raging, publicly thwarted, still aroused, he went for her. She struggled. I struggled to reach them. Someone else got there ahead of me.

Perella.

I'll have no rape at my events!" she cried to Blandus. "It gives me a bad name." I choked quietly.

He was lucky. She did not knife him. Instead, she high-kicked one powerful dancer's foot in a fine arc straight to his privates. When he doubled up, she grabbed him, twirled him around bodily and showed him just how bendable his neck could be. Her strong hands reached down and did something horrible, once more to his nether regions. She thumped his ears, pulled his nose and finally sent him flying into the barroom. Blandus had suffered enough, but he landed in a space right beside the mosaicist, Philocles Junior. Now that was bad luck. Philocles had reached the point in his evening where he was ready to revive old family feuds…

"Juno, I'm getting too old for all this," Perella gasped.

"Not as old as your caseload," I taunted. "Marcellinus was crooked, but long out of it. There was a time an emperor might well have had him removed quietly. It would have saved money and curbed his corrupt influence on the King but that was another world, Perella. Other emperors, with different priorities. So is Anacrites still following up correspondence that's ten years out of date? Pointless, Perella!"

"I just do what I'm ordered." Perella did look sick. For a skilled operator to be despatched on stupid missions by an inefficient clown like Anacrites must hurt.

Helena was rescuing our nursemaid. As Hyspale sobbed hysterically, I flung my arms around Helena. She was too busy to need it, but I had not recovered from seeing her in Blandus' clutches.

A glimmer of silk slid by. I looked up and saw Perella had sashayed through the bar. She came face to face with Maia. She said something. Maia obviously scoffed at it.

A violent flurry indicated new trouble. Verovolcus and his search party had worked their way to the Nemesis. Perella looked quickly at me. Instinctively I jerked my head. She needed no second warning. She was off through the crowd, who let her pass with gruff courtesy; then they closed in excitedly, hoping she would dance another set. Verovolcus had missed his chance. By the time he realised, Perella was hidden from view.

I would be livid tomorrow that I let her escape. Tough.

LIX

maia forged her way to us. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Where are my children?" asked Helena.

"Safe, of course. Fast asleep here, in beds in the Procurator's house." Maia was storming up to Hyspale. "Did he succeed?" she demanded of Helena.

"Not quite."

"Stop bawling, then," Maia rebuked Hyspale. She tweaked the red dress Hyspale was wearing. "It was your own fault. You have been stupid. Worse, you've been stupid wearing my best dress which, believe me, you're going to regret. You can take that off. You will take it off this minute and walk home in your under-tunic."

Women can be so vindictive.

I kept out of it. If terror of Blandus failed to educate Hyspale, maybe embarrassment would.

In the main room, the men realised that Perella had left them. Uproar ensued. Verovolcus and some of the King's retainers had found a man I recognised as Lupus. They were punishing him for his feud with the disgraced Mandumerus. His own men, to whom he had sold jobs so dearly, watched in cynical silence. No one offered help. Once he was pummelled into pulp, Verovolcus and the others disappeared through the back exit, clearly not searching for the lavatory. They never came back, so they must have galloped off. Others in the bar decided to vent their frustration on anyone available. Deprived of the dancer for entertainment, the different groups of site workers chose to thrash each other. We cowered in our nook as fists thumped cheekbones. Men were on the floor; others jumped on their backs punching furiously. Some tried rescuing those who were down; they were attacked by the men they thought they were helping. Flagons went flying across the room. Beer was upended on the floor. Tables overturned.

The trouble spilled out onto the street. That made space for more complex wrestling. We sat quiet and let it pass. I felt rough. I was cradling my cheek where my tooth now hurt so much I had to deal with it in the next few hours or I would die of blood poisoning.

On the far side of the barroom, I could see the Camillus brothers. They had opted out of the fight and were seated aloof at a table like minor deities, munching food and commentating. Aelianus held his wounded leg out stiffly. Justinus lifted up a dish to me, offering to share their victuals; refusing, I mimed dental anguish. The Camilli had been talking to a man at the next table; Justinus pointed to him with one finger, showing his own fangs. They had found the local tooth puller. Deafened, harassed by the turmoil around me and in pain, I just wanted to die quietly.

Suddenly the row diminished. As quickly as they had flared up, all the fights finished. Someone must have brought news of a good torch singer at yet another bar. Next minute our den was empty. The landlord was clearing broken pots. A few stragglers had their heads down on tables looking ill, but something like peace descended. My womenfolk were gathering themselves to take us home. I could see the Camilli negotiating terms for late-night dentistry.

A group of travellers, unaware of the mad scene they had missed, now entered and scanned the amenities.

"Phwoar! This is a bad one!" cried a young boy's voice. He sounded cheerful. He had a large shaggy dog with him, which was untrained and very excited.

"It will have to do," said someone else. I looked up.

Into the Nemesis marched a strange party. Behind the boy came a big, quiet man, dressed all in brown, who rapidly checked around the place. He wore a heavy cloak with a pointed hood and a triangular storm flap at the neck. Good travelling gear, it went with solid boots and a satchel slung across his chest. With him were four children of various ages, each warmly dressed in similar style, with woollen socks inside their boots, and each with a bag. They looked clean, fit, well cared for and probably enjoying life. The two boys needed haircuts but the two girls had neat pigtails.