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No." Petronius was also wondering. Are you?"

No." We were both glad to have cleared that up. I was fairly sure that before he died, my brother Festus had tried the whole Mithraic ritual of lying in a trench in the dark and having the blood of a sacrificed bull rain down on him. I doubt if he ever progressed beyond the first level; after initial curiosity, having to be serious about the cult would have put him off. The bull's blood would be enough to deter me.

Of course, jibed Helena, as it's a secret male cult, if either of you were in it, neither would own up." Neither of us answered her.

Petronius is right," I said at last. If this pit is in a Mithraeum, it will be hidden away at the back of a private house or place of work, and we will never find it." Wickedly, I added, Unless, Petro, you have a file at the vigiles station house, with a list of them?"

We have the file," he answered, a little reluctantly. It's the empty one." The young flautist started coughing. He sounded asthmatic. That could be a contradiction, but the breath control when he was playing the flute helped him. That was what he told Helena, as she took up the new task of calming him.

This is a wonderful young man, Rhodope. It was quite superb how he rescued you. He is brave, athletic, polite, sensible, and he has a steady job. When you recover from your grief you should think about settling down with somebody like this." I expected an outcry from the girl, but she was always up for new adventures. Are you married, Chaeron?" Helena asked.

No!" answered Chaeron, eagerly. Who knows where the matchmaking might have led. But Helena fell silent apprehensively, as our hot, cramped tomb suddenly echoed to a hearty knocking sound.

LVII

I felt Petronius shift his bulk alongside me. He reached behind us so he could return the same knock with a dagger pommel. Someone then shoved the heavy door inwards against our backs, so we tumbled in a heap. Familiar voices came in with the cool air. Hands reached to pull us out on to the roadway. Fusculus and some of the vigiles were our rescuers. Wiping the sweat from my brow as I cooled down, I caught Petro's eye. Pre-arranged bolthole!" I applauded his forethought. Angry noise was still coming back up the track from the funeral site. With nervous glances, Fusculus quickly arranged for the women to be taken under escort to Petronius" house; the escort would stay there on guard. Rhodope was a valuable witness. On the excuse that her father had reported her missing, she would be kept secure, whether she wanted it or not. I kissed Helena and promised to be a good boy. Don't make promises you can't keep, Marcus!" Petro and I, with Fusculus and the remaining men, walked back to the party scene. As I had hoped, the undertakers were true professionals. They had rebuilt the pyre, lashed down the corpse as if he had never jumped up for a look around, and rekindled the flames amidst a fresh douche of scented oil. The priest was busy at his altar while the rest ensured that Theopompus would go down to the underworld with somebody paying him attention. But all around this sombre, stoical group, chaos raged. The Illyrians and the Cilicians had each decided their blood brothers were bastards. Fusculus wondered what took them so long to fall out; Petro pretended to be a romantic who thought it was just a lovers" tiff; I had never believed they were sincere in the first place. Now they had torn up their pact and were pounding each other like true marriage partners on the brink of divorce. The fight was as good as any last night brawl after a tense series of games at a provincial amphitheatre, a melee when one set of locals thinks the other bragging bullies have been cheating all summer with the magistrate's co