CHAPTER FOUR: A TURN FOR THE WORSE

 

 

Nigel!’

Sydney gave his shoulder a gentle shake. Nigel stirred a little, mumbled something incomprehensible, and then rolled onto his side and began to snore softly.

‘Oh, Nigel,’ sighed Sydney. She knew his ‘departure’ was probably timely, but she could not quite to deny her disappointment.

Perched, now rather self-consciously, on the edge of the couch, Sydney noticed that their host, Agroitus Poculus, was watching her intently. As she inadvertently made eye contact, he rose, shooed away two slave girls who were serving him oysters, and began to make his way over towards her.

‘Uh-oh,’ thought Syd. She was glad she that she could handle her alcohol and was still on her guard. Nevertheless, she realised that this could be a good opportunity to find out the whereabouts of the relic.

‘Your husband can't take his liquor,’ stated Agroitus as he neared her, looking down at Nigel with disdain. He seems rather callow to possess such a fine wife.’

‘He’s very tired,’ offered Sydney as an explanation. She brushed a lock of Nigel's hair away from where it had flopped over his forehead, in a successful attempt to make him look a little nobler. This did not, however, impress Agroitus.

‘You fuss over him more like his mother than his wife,’ he snorted, and stretched out his hand in invitation. ‘Let me show you how to enjoy yourself in a method that your husband could never dream of.’

Sydney accepted the proffered hand, but assured Agroitus that ‘Quintus’ certainly knew how to show a girl a good time. She glanced nervously back at Nigel as she let Agroitus lead her way. She daren’t go too far, leaving him so vulnerable in the middle of the room of revellers.

Agroitus showed Sydney to a particularly comfortable couch and then took his place on another set at an angle beside. Slave girls appeared as if from nowhere, offering oysters and more of the sweet, fortified wine. Syd responded to Agroitus’ small talk and flirtatious banter as best as she could. Educated as she was, this wasn't the kind of prose that she was much used translating, let alone speaking out loud. Besides, the more she spoke to the man, the more she disliked him. He had a sleazy, self-confident air that reminded her of De Viega.

Nigel was not the only person in the room feeling the effects of the freely flowing beverages. As the evening drew on, several of the other decadents succumbed to its spell, and were slouched in various corners, snoring and moaning. Even Sydney eventually felt its punch, and wished she didn't have to concentrate quite so hard on her conversation.

At length, Agroitus turned attention to the subject she was looking for. He enjoyed her company, he said, and was willing to provide her with whatever information her husband needed.

Keen to get away from this man as soon as possible, Sydney got straight to the point. ‘We were told that you know the whereabouts of a powerful ancient relic, which once belonged to an Egyptian queen. It is very important that my husband and I find this, and make sure that it is safe.’

A look of suspicion and flashed across Agroitus’ face and then melted into a benevolent smile. He patted a space on his couch beside him, and beckoned Sydney over. ‘This is a very secret matter,’ he said confidentially. ‘We must not be overheard.’

Sydney graciously rose from her couch, poured her host a large glass of wine, and handed it to him before she seated herself where it was requested. Agroitus grinned predatorily while Sydney simpered prettily, deftly concealing her loathing. Inside, she was sincerely praying that he would talk quickly and then pass out like everyone else. She could already smell the stench of alcohol on his hot, shallow breath.

He placed his arm around her waist. ‘My dear,’ he leered, ‘the relic you speak of has been hidden for a reason. If it fell into the wrong hands it could reap the most terrible havoc.’

Sydney fluttered her eyelashes. ‘I know. Which is why my husband and I came here: to warn you.’ She licked her lips provocatively. ‘Do tell me, where is it? Is it safe?’

Agroitus gave a sinister chortle and leaned up so his face was just inches from hers. ‘What would you give to find out?’

‘A kiss?’ suggested Sydney optimistically.

‘Much more has been given to me tonight than just a kiss, my love, and from women with more effectual husbands than yours.’

He reached up and began to fondle the side of her neck. ‘Damn,’ thought Syd. ‘This isn't working.’ She wondered if this horrid man would submit to a bit of old-fashioned arm-twisting or some other such information-inducing pain. She had to get him alone.

She smiled sweetly, and pushed away his hand, placing another glass of wine in it.

‘Can we go somewhere more private?’ she requested.

‘This is private,’ said Agroitus, and downed his drink. He was right. Just about everybody else had fallen asleep, and the slave girls had vanished as subtly as they appeared. Agroitus, too, was getting very drunk, and Sydney began to wonder if this mission might be better left to the morning anyway. If he got inebriated enough, she hoped he might think she'd given him what he desired when he awoke in the morning and then tell her what she wanted.

Unfortunately, Agroitus was relatively resilient. After draining yet another glass, he was still awake and, most disgustingly of all, he began groping towards her chest and requesting a kiss in an incoherent voice.

She was about to dodge out of the way and pour him another glass of wine when she heard a voice that was not speaking Latin. Like everyone else's speech, it was rather slurred, but nevertheless, it was the perfect Queen's English.

‘Excuse me, sir, will you please get your filthy hands off my wife!’

Sydney spun around to find her teaching assistant stumbling towards them, his hair ruffled, his eyes unfocussed, and generally looking somewhat unsteady.

Agroitus, nearly as drunk, pushed himself shakily to his feet, at which point Nigel swung his left fist in the Roman Consul's direction. Agroitus ducked, and Nigel plummeted forward onto the couch, landing with his face in Sydney’s lap, perfectly unconscious again.

Agroitus saw this as a challenge, even though he had not understood the words that had been said. He was not used to people standing up to him, and he didn't like it. His anger sobered him up fast, even as Sydney attempted to apologise.

‘I'm terribly sorry about my husband, Sir. He likes to defend me.’ She placed a protective arm over Nigel as she attempted to woo back Agroitus’ pleasure with another simpering smile.

This time, it was to no avail as Agroitus began to rant: ‘I let you into my house, even though you need be no more than runaway slaves. First you toy with me, and then your pathetic husband insults me. I am no longer interested in you and your tales of magic stones. There is no such thing. I wish you to leave this house first thing in the morning. If I see you again, I will instantly have you both sold.’

‘What a charming man, you are,’ retorted Sydney as their host stormed from the room. Nevertheless, she realised the battle was lost for now. She settled Nigel carefully on the couch, and snuggled up next to him for the night.

…………………………..

When Nigel’s eyes flickered open in the morning light, the first sensation that struck him was the heavy throbbing in his head. This jogged memories of the night before, which fizzled out into a haze of cheese, wine and kissing Sydney.

Kissing Sydney! Had he really done that?

He sat up with a groan, and found that Sydney was seated on a mat in front of him, brushing her hair with an ivory comb she had somehow appropriated.

‘Morning Nigel!’ she said cheerily.

‘Good Morning,’ croaked Nigel and lay back down. He wasn't quite ready for being vertical just yet.

‘Oh God,’ he moaned. ‘What happened last night?’

‘Don’t worry, you're not the only one who is rather worse for wear this morning,’ said Syd, referring to the other slumbering bodies that were still draped around the room. ‘And you didn’t do anything you would regret,’ she said, lying slightly.

‘Didn’t I?’

‘Well, apart from taking a swing at our host.’

Nigel covered his face with both his hands. ‘Oh no… I have no recollection.’

‘I think you'd better leave the talking to me this morning,’ suggested Sydney. ‘Neither of us will be in his good books. He certainly had a bit of a soft spot for me, though,before your bout of chivalry put paid to that. If not, it might be worth talking to members of the household. Somebody must know something about Hatshepsut’s Eye.’

Nigel pulled himself slowly into a sitting position, frowning at her blearily. Sydney handed him a pottery goblet full of water. ‘Drink that,’ she ordered. ‘It’s straight from a spring.’

Nigel did so, and his head fell slightly better, even if his stomach still didn't feel too great. He was just attempting to stand up, when they were both distracted by a dainty cough that came from behind one of the nearby pillars.

A slip of a girl with long, caramel hair, not older than in her teens, peered out from behind and then vanished. Syd gave Nigel a ‘what’s this?’ look, and headed in her direction. She then let a tiny hand, which came out and grabbed hers, direct her behind another pillar.

‘Madam,’ said the girl in the softest whisper, ‘I was serving you and my master last night and I heard you mention the precious relic he brought with him from Rome.’

‘You did?’ said Syd. If this girl knew something, it could just be the breakthrough they were looking for.

‘Yes. And I want you to find it. My master is a bad man. He stole the Eye after being told about it by a senator who wished it to be kept from an evil Emperor. But he used it for his own ends. He has risen rapidly to power and wealth and wants to use the relic to help him rule the empire himself one day.’

‘How do you know this?’ asked Syd, surprised by the girl's knowledge of her master's affairs.

‘I may speak little, but I look and I hear. Sometimes great men forget slaves are really people. They become careless around us.’

Sydney smiled sympathetically. She wished she could help this girl, but how?

‘Do you know where he has hidden it?

‘I believe,’ said the girl, even quieter than before, ‘he consults it in a hidden chamber under the amphitheatre. He loves the fights there, especially when they are brutal, and goes there every time there is a show.’

‘Thank you,’ said Syd humbly. She knew this girl was taking a great risk. ‘I will find a way to repay you for this.’

‘There's little you can do for me, I’m afraid,’ said her confidant wistfully. ‘Besides, you've already inspired me. I've never seen a woman stand up to that evil man before. You were wonderful. If only I could be like you!’

‘What’s your name?’ The girl said she was called Lydia.

Sydney looked into her eyes sincerely. ‘Just remember, Lydia, nobody owns your heart. No woman is ever completely powerless if she remembers that. Be true to yourself and something good will happen for you, I promise…’

Sydney was not given a chance to offer more than words. Loud male voices were heard approaching and Lydia scuttled off, vanishing as she was so used to doing.

Sydney stepped out from behind a pillar to greet a scene that she did not like.

Four large soldiers, clad in iron breastplates, had marched over to where Nigel had retaken to his couch. One of them was hauling him roughly to his feet as he meekly protested: ‘I'm a citizen of err, Colchester…’

‘The Consul has been informed that you and your so-called wife are runaway slaves,’ one of the soldiers was saying. ‘Where is the woman?’

‘She was here a minute ago,’ pleaded Nigel, wondering if it would do any good to call for help. The soldier shook him violently. ‘Where is she?’

‘I’m here, boys,’ said Sydney from behind. Before the three men who weren’t manhandling Nigel had a chance to respond, Sydney had floored one of them with a vicious kick to his back, seized his sword, and taken an aggressive stance. She parried blows from both the remaining soldiers, spinning her sword skilfully between swipes. After beating one back, and injuring the other in the arm, they retreated, awed by her skill.

Meanwhile, Nigel had also taken advantage of the matter that his captor was transfixed by the display. He had wriggled free, kicking the soldier with some aggression, and ran around to behind where Sydney was holding her line.

Unfortunately, hearing the kerfuffle, several other soldiers who had been taking their breakfast and recovering from the night before entered the room to the rear of Sydney and Nigel. They were accompanied by none other than Agroitus himself.

Sydney, realising things were getting desperate, feigned a swipe at one of the nearest soldiers, grabbed Nigel and darted for the nearest window. It was a long shot, and they never made it. Several guards fell upon each of them, and even Sydney was quickly overpowered.

Sydney, held tightly as she was, refused to show weakness and stared daggers at Agroitus. ‘Your standards of hospitality have declined since last night,’ she growled. ‘But not much… I'm still been pawed by hideous men.’

Agroitus shoved his face close into hers and laughed: ‘You've denied me for the last time, my beautiful one,’ he leered. Sydney snarled.

Their eyes locked into a deadly battle, which was only broken when Nigel's voice drifted between them, small and apprehensive.

‘If this is about last night, I'm terribly sorry. I was drunk! In fact, I have no recollection of anything I did. It’s not worth killing us for, is it?’

Agroitus’ eyes wavered for a second, before he re-fixed his icy glare on Sydney alone. ‘No. Why would I do that when I can make good money out of both of you at the market?’

Sydney's attention, however, was no longer devoted to her nemesis. Seeing Nigel, held firm in the arms of two large soldiers, she was hit by a wave of fear. She could fight to the death against whatever this man had in store for her, but she hated the thought of Nigel having to do the same.

Catching her eye, Nigel said nothing, but his face communicated his sheer terror. Sydney's fear was compounded by guilt. She should never have let things come to this. Why hadn't she come up with a better plan?

Agroitus’ face was still hovering inches from her own, chuckling darkly. ‘You will be unable to say no to any man who possesses you as his property, my dear!’

Sydney swallowed hard. She wasn't concerned about herself. She had to stop Nigel being sold as a slave and left at the mercy of whatever monster purchased him.

‘I'll do what you like, Agroitus, for you or any other man. Let my husband go.’

‘No!’ said Nigel, his voice infinitely firmer than before. ‘If anyone goes free, it is my wife.’

Agroitus merely laughed again. ‘Neither of you are in a position to negotiate,’ he said, still addressing Sydney alone. ‘Your stripling husband might make somebody a decent domestic slave. If not, I'll get good money for him at the mines…or maybe the arena. He won't last long at either, but the gladiators like easy pickings. The owners can't afford to lose valuable men every evening!’ Sydney let out a cry of frustration as her struggles came to nothing in the soldiers’ powerful grip.

Agroitus continued: ‘As for you, my sweet one, you are truly fine. I hope to make a good few denari out of you, especially now I know the true extent of your skills. Take them away!’

To Sydney's consternation, the guards dragged her off in a completely different direction to that in which they took Nigel. ‘Hang on in there, Nigel’ she shouted over her shoulder, sounding as encouraging as she could.

Nigel did not reply. Her last impression of him was the utterly destitute expression on his pale face as he was dragged from the room.

‘You won’t be seeing him again,’ jeered one of the guards. Although Sydney swore to herself that she would find Nigel soon, the words hit her like a sledgehammer and nearly broke her heart.

 

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