XXXVI
I CAUGHT HIM and turned him upright. The baby was screaming but I didn't think he had broken any bones or been crushed. Still, he wanted everyone know he was outraged. Without letting my eyes give away my intentions, I tried frantically to think of somewhere I could put him down. The only place was the table; I could not get to it.
Fighting for time, I tried to calm the atmosphere. `Good afternoon!' I saluted the unknown visitors. `Are you melon-sellers, or just passing financiers trying to interest us in a favourably priced loan?' The two bullies stared. A jest was my only weapon now; they looked unimpressed. Meanwhile the skip baby grabbed me around the throat in a stranglehold, but he did stop crying. `I'm afraid you must leave,' I continued hoarsely. `My doctor has advised me against acid fruit, and we're a household that avoids debt on religious grounds.'
`You're Falco!' It was the small man who owned the voice. The brain it went with must be a slow one. His voice was harsh; his tone arrogant. His friend didn't need to talk. The large fellow only had to stand there pulling and clicking his finger joints in order to contribute to this conversation quite successfully.
I managed to loosen the babe's grip and snatched some air. `What do you want?'
`A word.' I could tell what they really wanted was to kick me in the ribs. The smaller man spat deliberately into a dish of newly peeled boiled eggs. These were very unpleasant people. Helena seethed, and he grinned at her.
He was exceptionally small. Not a dwarf; perfectly proportioned, but a good foot less than average. A statue would not have revealed his problem, but not even his mother would want to commission a statue of this villain. They could afford it, though, judging by the torque-style bracelets on his upper arms. And he wore signet rings so solid they were more like growths than jewellery.
`Who sent you?'
`You don't need to know.'
`I'll find out.' I glanced at Helena. `Something tells me, love, that somewhere today we upset someone!'
`You're upsetting us!' the first man commented.
`And you're going to back off!' growled the wide man. His voice rumbled deeply, rich with the remembered pleasure of torturing people who ignored what he said. Shaved hair and unclean skin were his badges of toughness. Massive shoulders were bursting through the strained skeins of a worn-out tunic. He liked to show his teeth in a neat white rectangle when he talked. He nearly filled the room.
`Back off what?' I answered pleasantly. `Exactly which group of uncompromising social misfits have you been sent to represent?'
I saw Helena close her eyes in despair, thinking this the wrong attitude. Apologising meekly would have done no better, and I knew it. The men had come to terrorise us; they would not leave until they saw us cowering. They would enjoy inflicting pain. With a pregnant woman, an innocent rookie and a baby to answer for, my main interest was making sure it was me they chose to damage.
There were two of them and three of us, but we were outranked in power. There seemed no way I could get us out of this, yet I had to try. I would have liked to tackle the small man first, but there was no space to move; my scope for action was limited.
I said, `I think you should leave.' Then I passed the baby to Porcius and squared up as the wide man came for me.
It was like being tackled by an altar stone on legs. Like a marble slab full in the guts, he caught me in a wrestling hug. His grip was unbearable, and he was not even trying yet.
The baby screamed again. The small man spun around to Helena. He grabbed her. Porcius slipped the child out onto the balcony, then he jumped on Helena's attacker from behind and tried to pull him off. Porcius was yelling, which might have brought help, had any one of my fellow tenants been the type to notice murder happening. They were deaf. We had to sort this out ourselves.
The others skirmishing did slightly distract my man. I forced my elbows outwards just enough to get my hands down low. I used the squeeze. I used both hands. The wide man's face creased into an angry grimace, but my attempt to pestle his privates had no other visible effect. I was for it. He lifted me off my feet merely by expanding his chest. He would have raised me overhead, but the room was too small. Turning slowly, he prepared to crash me against a wall instead. I glimpsed Porcius staggering backwards; he had yanked the small man away from Helena. They fell against us; the wide man changed his mind about making wall decoration out of me; Porcius and his captive bounced off again.
The wide man kept his hold, but swung me back the other way. Now I was to be a weapon; he was intending to attack Porcius using me as a battering ram.
Suddenly Helena grasped a hot pan of broth from the cooking bench. She upended the vessel over the small man so that the scalding liquor flowed down his face and neck.
Porcius saw her coming; he let go and sprang back just in time. The small man became a shrieking mess. The wide one shifted his grip on me. He seemed genuinely troubled by his friend's cries of agony. I was fighting back now. I was doing everything right. It was hopeless – like trying to mould set concrete with bare hands.
Porcius rushed back, punched the small man a few times, then he and Helena started battering the fellow to chase him out of doors, Helena now trying to brain him with the pan's red-hot iron base. He was still yelling, and trying to get away. Somehow he found my fallen knife. Next minute he was crouching and making vicious feints with the blade. Helena and Porcius pressed back against the balcony door. Even scalded and trying to pluck boiling-hot lentils from his tunic neck, he was dangerous.
I was in deep trouble. Every move I made brought me closer to asphyxiation. I pushed the heel of one hand beneath the wide man's chin, forcing his head back as far as possible. He pulled a face like a demonic mask, but continued to crush me. My other arm seemed useless; he had badly mauled it. I started losing consciousness.
Then I was aware of other people rushing up the stairs outside. Helena was crying out for help. I heard tramping feet. Suddenly something flew through the air to fasten itself on the great arm that was crushing my head. The wide man yelled and tried to shake himself free; I slid to the floor. My saviour was Nux, her jaws clamped on my attacker, though she still growled loudly.
The room filled up with shrieking women. The small man dropped the knife; I grabbed it. I lurched to my feet. Without waiting, I plunged my knife into the side of the wide man's neck. It was a poor blow. There was no time to aim, and he was too large to stop with one stab wound anyway. But it hurt. The blood gushed – always worrying.
`You're dead!' I snarled (though I doubted it). He brushed at the cut like a man swatting wine flies one-handed, because the dog Nux was still hanging on to his other arm with rigidly clenched jaws. The more he hurled her about, the more fiercely the creature clung on.
A boy slipped through the crush – my nephew Marius. He leapt for the balcony and let out a piercing whistle. `Up here, officers – and be quick!' He was apparently calling down to a troop of vigiles.
It was all too much. A landing full of extra witnesses – my mother, sister Maia, and Marius – was unwelcome- even to our visitors. There was no space for beating anyone up properly. And now Marius had summoned further help. The two of them decided that if the vigiles were coming up they had better rush down. With a mighty effort, the wide one forced the dog's jaws apart and flung her to the floor.
`Be wise, idiot!' he shouted at me. Then both men took a run for the door (chased by the little dog, barking ferociously). They barged past Ma and Maia, and thundered downstairs.