That's right, down you go!" Cotys grinned. Feeling for the sagging rungs, I lowered myself glumly. I could see a couple of fishing smacks, a long way from us. The shore looked far off too. We were in one of the Mediterranean's busiest shipping lanes – on the only afternoon that the route into Portus appeared to be empty. Above, I heard the rowers return to their stations; they were given a new order. The ship took up its course again. I was so close to the oars that as they dipped and rose they splashed me. Something was done to the mainsail. I clung on desperately as we turned out to sea on a long tack against the current, leaving the coast even further behind us, then I swung madly as we manoeuvred again. The rowers were working hard. Every time the steering rudder swung around to change direction, the ladder bucked outwards or bounced me against the hull; each time it was harder to avoid being thrown off. I managed to shed the mock toga. I pulled off the battered wreath and dropped it. A seaman, watching me from the rail above, cackled with laughter. I might still be a fool in the eyes of the crew, but I felt better. I was alive. So long as I clung on, there was still a chance for me. Still, I was helpless on a rope ladder, inches from the rising oars, on a ship sailed by professional kidnappers who knew I had uncovered their trade. Returning me to land was a lost promise. I knew too much about their activities and I had nothing to bargain with. They might be ignoring me at present, but I was nowhere near safe. I was still reviewing and discarding action plans when a new disaster struck. Above me on deck the crew were busy. The sailing master was still passing to and fro inspecting the hull; occasionally I saw his head as he looked over. Cotys had disappeared. Cotys must have gone to investigate the stolen money chest. I heard a roar, a yell of utter fury. Commotion broke out on deck. The rowers ceased their efforts and must have left their seats; the oars hung idle. The ship staggered and lost her momentum. This is a box of rocks!" Now Cotys leaned over the rail above me, shouting. In one hand I glimpsed big gold coins. In the other were pebbles, which he hurled at me. I ducked. One or two stung me. Seamen were crowding the rail; there must have been over forty in the crew that afternoon and most of them had left their posts to harangue me.
You did this! You cheated me."
I had nothing to do with it." No use. Cotys wanted a culprit. Anacrites!" I bawled at Cotys. This was typical of the Chief Spy and his staff. even when he was away, Anacrites" cashiers had automatically worked a fiddle. Knowingly or not, Holconius and Mutatus had become party to a classic scam. The ransom chest must have had coins in the top layer to look good, but it was mainly loaded with stones. This scam usually failed; criminals know to check a payoff thoroughly. But if one group of pirates is stealing from another in a hurry, they might omit this precaution.
Cotys, the money was issued by the Chief Spy's office. He always plays dirty." Cotys knew nothing of Anacrites. You did it!" he shouted. This is the end of you, Falco!" The crew were all yelling abuse. Someone began shaking a boathook, though I was too low down for them to reach. Cotys disappeared again for a moment, then he was back with an axe. He was so angry he was willing to sacrifice a decent ladder just to dispatch me. He slashed at the ladder. Like all sailors, he knew how to cleave a rope in a crisis. One side gave way. As I swung and crashed against the hull, I cried out for him to stop. He sawed through the other rope. I fell. I had just time to hope that some passing dolphin who liked to play with Roman boys would swim up and save my life. Then I took a last breath, flailed madly amid the tangled ladder rungs, and sank beneath the deep, cold waves.
