I left Helena with the new note-tablets. The children were contented, so she was ready to read and interpret this written work. There were enough tablets to cover a side table. Most looked ancient, their wooden boards bleached and dried up; these were filled with uneven scribbles of the kind Albia had described earlier. A few newer tablets matched those we had found before in Diocles" room. Perhaps they would give a lead as to what had happened to him. Helena assured me this task needed one person to review everything, that was, her. I went out instead to investigate the two bars where Banno had told me he went to negotiate his kidnapped wife's release. I found the bars fairly easily. One charmless nook was called the Clam, its neighbour was the Venus. Blurred pictograms advertised them. They were one-room holes of the type that occur in rows fringing every seafront or riverfront. smoky innards where food and drink were prepared, with crude tables outside squashing up against the next establishment in an unending line. The waiters, when customers could find one to take an interest, seemed interchangeable. These places prided themselves in serving excellent fish meals, which meant they overcharged mightily for a weak bowl of soup with shell in it, a very small piece of yesterday's bread, plus red wine so acidic that if it was painted on your corns your whole toes would drop off. I approached the bower of the love goddess first, on principle. Given its name I was not surprised to find a pale waitress with a weary expression, whose duties must include going up the back stairs with customers who wanted extra services.
Something to eat, sir?" No thanks. I was grown up now. I knew what would happen if I ate in a dump like this. I could not spare the time to be that ill. I'm looking for the Illyrian."
Not here. Get lost."
Has he ever been here?"
If you say so. Everyone seems to think he has."
Who's everyone?"
A stupid stiff from the vigiles." Brunnus. Did you hear me?, Push off!" Brunnus had messed up the scene just as well as he could for me. Then when I emerged from the Venus, cursing, what should I hear but his voice? I ducked and hid. I realised what was going on. it must be the Ides of August today. The Fourth Cohort had just arrived to take post in Ostia, and their vexillation was being shown around by the departing Sixth, led by Brunnus, on the traditional familiarisation walk. That is, identifying the enormous corn warehouses they were supposed to guard, as a prelude to trying out the local bars. The Fourth had been in Ostia before. They must remember the place from two or three years ago, though to be fair, since the vigiles had a six-year turnover among their ranks, a proportion of the present detachment might be new. The warehouses had not moved position. But some of the bars might have changed hands or altered their wine suppliers, so old haunts might no longer feel the same. Men of action would need to reconnoitre urgently. Before they could spot me, I dived into the Clam. Few customers ever bothered to venture indoors from the tables outside. There might be a latrine out at the back, but most men walked over and peed in the river; I could see one customer doing exactly that. First, the chef and waiters thought I must be in here to complain. Once I reassured them, I was treated as a novelty. Forewarned at the Venus, here next door I straight away moaned about Brunnus. It worked. Soon I was told that the Illyrian sometimes dropped in for business purposes. Of course they claimed to have no idea what business he was furthering. Many trades need to operate through their proprietors meeting people in bars, or so many proprietors would have you believe. Publishing. Racehorse owning. Pimping. Fencing stolen goods… The Illyrian knew the ropes. He gave the waiters a tip in advance, so they would point him out to anyone who asked for him. He left another tip on the bill when he left. While that meant he could be sure of a welcome if he came here again, the lavish behaviour also meant the staff very clearly remembered him.
It sounds as if he knows how to behave… But I am told he's rather sinister?" My informant, a spotty young male in a filthy tunic, laughed. He never scares me!"
You mean he's not as fierce as he makes out?"
