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I always come down to the port at this time. I like to get settled. Sometimes the view of the sunrise is very affecting." I was not capable of replying to poetic ideas, not at this hour, and certainly not. from Gaius. And you are working too, I suppose?" he asked me loudly.
I enjoy a good sunrise myself There was no point kicking his shin as a hint to shut up; he would Want to know, equally loudly, why I had kicked him.
Yes, I thought you must be here on surveillance; there are some of your friends from the vigiles." I groaned. As the sombre working men at the Dolphin all turned from their breakfast in one synchronised motion to stare, Petro, Fusculus and a selection of their troops sauntered from the ferry direction in twos and threes, unobtrusively, or so they had thought. The stevedores and bumboat rowers might have noticed the newcomers anyway; port workers could smell law and order men a mile away. But the vigiles' arrival was enough to disperse the breakfasters, leaving only a couple of stubborn loaders who watched what happened next with sour expressions, chewing their handfuls of bread and refusing to be bumped out of their routine. The vigiles replaced the departing breakfasters at the counter, where they ordered snacks of their own.
Got an operation on today?" Gaius asked, with his usual lack of tact. Fortunately, Lucius Petronius was chewing at that moment so could not bite off my brother-in-law's nose.
The sunrise will be lovely," I informed Petro as his brown eyes spoke movingly of overwrought feelings.
Nice!" Standing at the bar of the foodstall, we turned our backs to the counter, elbows on the marble. That way, we could gaze across to the Damson Flower unobtrusively. I saw a couple of the men go over to the building, then start surreptitiously checking for the back door. There was bound to be one. No self-respecting bar or brothel lacks a rear exit for a quick getaway, or to serve as a secret entrance for those who burst in for armed debt-collection or a surprise mass raid on the purses of the customers.
That place over the road does a roaring trade," observed Gaius. For a sleepy bug, his feelers were acute. He had honied in dangerously on our object of observation. The Damson Flower."
Yes, the first rays of sunlight are just starting to glint charmingly on the wonky roof finials," seethed Petro. Oh look, now the worn-out pornographic board is shining in the newborn light… Gaius Baebius, shouldn't you be at your tax table?" Gaius Baebius turned his large watery eyes to Petro, and made a huge show of catching on. Yes, Lucius Petronius, I must supervise those slackers who work for me."
Good man." Gaius left. The atmosphere improved immediately. The door of the Damson Flower opened a crack. A young man in a rust-coloured tunic and with rather short hair slipped outside and came over to the bar. He ordered bread and a drink, as if he had just come from a bout with a goodtime girl. Maybe he had. But he was undoubtedly a vigilis. He gave a slight shake of the head to Petronius, drank up, and then left. Another man, in a streaky green tunic, arrived on foot from the direction of the Island, and went straight to the brothel, where he was soon admitted. He definitely belonged to the Fourth Cohort; I recognised him. I remarked to Petronius, Some people will volunteer for anything!"
Sad, isn't it?" he gri
You may have to ditch Maia."
How about I adopt her? Then she stops being your sister, so I can't be your brother-in-law."
But Maia becomes your daughter so you are not allowed to sleep with her."
Bad plan!" Still filling in time, we discussed which of my brothers-in-law I hated most. This provided inexhaustible repartee. I could not decide between Verontius the road contractor, who was an obvious scab on society's nether regions, and Mico the plasterer, who looked fairly harmless, but who had a lot of faults, especially his terrible plastering. But Petronius had a particular down on Verontius, whom he once tried to arrest for bribery on official contracts; Verontius had got off without a stain on his character [he bribed his way out of the charge. We avoided all mention of Famia, who had been married to Maia until he died a couple of years back; I could not remember whether Petronius had ever been told of Famia's greatest moment. It was being kept a secret to save the children from the shame. Famia had been sent to the arena in Leptis Magna and eaten by a lion. Famia was a drunkard with an uncontrolled tongue, which was how he incurred his fate. But he had not achieved the depths of dirt, deceit, smelliness and absenteeism which were mingled into a flavour some brew by the toothless water-boatman father of my favourite nephews, Larius and Gaius. As soon as we mentioned Lollius, Lollius won outright. Time went by. Around us, the port had come to life. The few early loaders who had seemed to be working on their own initiative had now been joined by organised teams. Singing and joshing, they set about complicated manoeuvres, which often involved long periods of inactivity where men stood on the quayside and talked through how to approach their task. At other times they seemed to have no problem, but swung into action with practised assurance. Then sacks and barrels kept coming ashore or going on board in great quantity. At intervals along the mole, cranes had creaked into action, raising stuff from deep holds; usually the crane had a lonely operator, working with unseen companions who never seemed to communicate from the ship. If a load slipped, the operator had to leave the crane and remedy the disaster on his own. If he was lucky, a seagull came to watch. Handlers shifting produce manually crossed from one tightly packed ship to another, sometimes several, using gangplanks as bridges as they hauled amphorae of wine and olives or threw sacks and bales from hand to hand. Awkward items provided us with plenty of amusement. A whole string of Spanish horses had to be coaxed down a gangplank, teetering riskily even when someone suggested they be blindfolded. Divers arrived to work in one area of the dock, where a valuable commodity had been dropped in the water the previous day. We were there half the morning but the divers still had not found what they were searching for. We never discovered what it was. Petro wandered over to make friends with their supervisor since a contact among the divers might be useful to the vigiles. A new ranker arrived from the Island, looking nervous. He began to approach Fusculus, then noticed Petronius, who had spotted him and was hurrying back to the bar.
Sorry, chief- bad news. The scribes won't be coming after all." Petronius adjusted the position of his wine beaker on the counter; the gentle movement was deceptive and the scared messenger knew it. Tell me."
It's all a fix." Nervous of Petro, the ex-slave was rushing the story.
They started out, sure enough, got as far as the ferry, then had the money snatched off them while they were on the boat." Petronius now showed he was livid. I ca