by Jodi Taylor
That bastard Herodotus. He’d planted something on her and then called the authorities. And he was a founding father. They’d knock themselves out for him.
Leon and I stared at each other in dismay.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘No, not that way,’ as I set off downhill towards the sea. He nodded significantly back the way we’d come. ‘That way. Atherton, Hoyle, do not let them separate you from the women. Insist on staying together. Max and I will get you out. You know the drill. Do as you’re told and keep your mouths shut. Stay out of trouble and await rescue.’
Atherton said, ‘Copy that.’ He sounded anxious. I didn’t blame him.
‘And don’t let Sykes bite anyone. We’re on our way.’
‘Yes sir,’ I could hear the smile in his voice.
‘This is my fault,’ I said bitterly closing my link.
‘No, actually, it’s not. It’s the best thing that could have happened. If you hadn’t nipped off for a minute then they’d have all of us and we’d all be in trouble.’
I never thought I’d live to be grateful to Greek wine.
Herodotus was exactly as we’d found him. Half asleep against the wall with a beaker of wine in one hand. Only the randy little ginger git was missing.
No she wasn’t.
I was there in two strides and knocked his beaker away. Wine sprayed up the wall.
‘Hey! That one was full.’
‘You had them arrested for theft?’
‘I told you – I’m not going back to St Mary’s.’
‘You bastard!’
‘They’ll be all right,’ he whined. ‘They’ll just be locked up for the night and escorted to the town gates tomorrow morning.’
He was lying.
I seized two great handfuls of his greasy tunic and began to bang his bloody head against the bloody wall.
‘No they bloody won’t. Especially the girls, you greasy bastard. Get them released now – this minute – or I’ll drag you back to St Mary’s by your balls – always supposing we can find them – and let them deal with you, you scrofulous toe-rag.’
He looked over at Leon. ‘Are you going to let her talk to me like that?
‘Nothing to do with me. Let me know if your arms get tired, Max, and I’ll take over.’
He sagged. ‘All right.’
‘Who’s got them?’
‘Well, you could call them the police, I suppose.’
‘What did you tell them?’
‘That I’d been robbed by a group of strangers.’
‘Where would they take them?’
He folded his arms and threw out his chest. The inference was obvious. He wasn’t going to assist any further. Which was stupid of him. There are rules and regs that even I have to obey when dealing with contemporaries. Herodotus – or whoever this pillock was – was no contemporary. He was St Mary’s. I could not only do with him as I pleased, I could be creative with it.
I know when to step back.
‘Chief Farrell, please take whatever steps you feel necessary to induce Mr Herodotus to provide the information we require.’
Herodotus just had time to register that maybe things weren’t going to go his way after all, when Leon whipped out his stun gun and zapped him. Only lightly, but enough to put him on the ground. So – taking a moment to sum up – four missing trainees and the world’s first and most important historian twitching at our feet. Well down to our normal standards so far.
He lay flat on his back, arms and legs outflung and a stream of drool running down his chin. His tunic had ridden up. He looked, if possible, even more unattractive than ever.
‘Yuk,’ said Leon, hastily covering him up. ‘Why am I suddenly thinking of Markham’s dead chicken at Troy?’
‘I’m pretty sure only a mental health professional could unlock the secrets of your mind and even then only when wearing protective clothing.’
‘Shall I put him in the recovery position?’
‘Not if a kick in the slats will bring him around more quickly.’
It did.
‘Jesus,’ he said, one eye going east and the other west. ‘Youse two are a right pair of bastards.’
‘What a coincidence,’ said Leon, pleasantly. ‘We were just thinking the same about you.
‘Again,’ I said. ‘Where have they been taken?’
Silence. I took another threatening step forwards.
He curled up in a protective ball. ‘To the harbour area. There’s a lockable storehouse where they keep people prior to …’ He stopped.
‘What will happen to them?’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Lads put to work as galley slaves, I suppose and the girls …’
We all knew the answer to that one.
‘Come on,’ I said to Leon. ‘And bring him.’
‘What for?’ said Herodotus, panicking. ‘You don’t need me.’
‘You got them in – you can get them out. You will explain it’s all been a terrible misunderstanding. And if you don’t,’ said Leon with quiet menace, ‘we can spend some time discussing the phrase “multiple fractures” and its implications.’
He swallowed, sat up groggily, and started whining. ‘This is not my fault. I didn’t ask you to come here. I’m doing perfectly well in the here and now. I’m fulfilling History. In fact,’ he continued, and I could practically hear his brain working, ‘if anything happens to me then there’s no more Herodotus and you’ve got a big problem.’
‘We should take him back,’ said Leon, playing bad cop. ‘The Time Police will be pleased as punch to get their hands on him and we could do with the credit.’
‘You don’t frighten me,’ he said truculently, ‘I’m Herodotus the historian. You can’t take me anywhere.’
He had a point. If he truly was Herodotus – and I had a horrible feeling he was – then he was one of the most important men of his age and there was no way we could do anything that would prevent him from finishing his Histories.
‘True, but you’ve settled down now. Your travelling days are done. Your notes are complete. Anyone could finish them off. In fact,’ I looked at Leon. ‘I can think of any number of historians who would jump at the chance of six months in the sun, with unlimited amphorae and servant girls thrown in.’
‘You bastards.’
Leon hauled him to his feet and then wiped his hands on his tunic. I didn’t blame him.
I looked around the courtyard. There was no sign of anyone else anywhere. Either his household staff was in hiding or, more likely, no one liked him enough to come out and save him. I remembered the two women who had served us wine. And their bruises. I could imagine what being a female slave in this household must be like.
‘So, where’s the real Herodotus?’
‘You don’t get it, do you? I’m the real Herodotus.’
‘All right, where’s the man who was born in Halicarnassus?’
He shrugged. ‘Set off on his travels and never came back. I found myself in Athens, up to my neck in trouble. They asked me my name and this was the only one from this period I could remember.’ He shrugged. ‘My speciality is actually the Etruscans so I said the first name that occurred to me and suddenly I was a star. Comfy billet, good food, and as much wine and women as I could handle. People tell me things, I write them down. Any gaps and I make it up. I’m an important man and I tell you now, I’m not going back to St Mary’s. It’s too bloody dangerous and my director was an absolute bastard. No, I’m staying here.’
Leon stared at him. ‘Why can’t you go back? What did you do?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, feebly and unconvincingly.
‘Where’s the rest of your team.’
‘Went off without me,’ he said, trying to look hard done by and only succeeding in looking shiftier than ever.
‘I don’t blame them,’ said Leon. ‘But why would they do that? You know the drill. We never leave our people behind.’
He shrugged. ‘They might have thought I was dead.’
I stared at him. �
�Why might they think that?’
‘I might have … accidentally … come across a body and swapped the clothes.’
Leon said suddenly, ‘You killed a contemporary?’ and slammed him so hard against the wall that it was a miracle his teeth didn’t come loose.
‘Ow,’ he said. ‘Jesus. No need for that.’
I was in no mood for sympathy. ‘Tell the truth, you lying piece of shit. Did you kill a contemporary?’
‘No, no. Nothing like that. He was dying. I think. There wasn’t anything I could do for him, anyway. Then he died. So I swapped clothes and …’
He stopped suddenly.
Leon hauled him to his feet again. ‘And …?’
‘And burned the body. They thought it was me.’
‘Why? Why would you do such a thing? What sort of a monster are you?’
‘Not my fault,’ he whined again. ‘Things got out of hand. St Mary’s was a bitch to work for. And I owed some money. Not a lot. Well, not to begin with but it was a lot after a little while. Then there were some people looking for me so I took a long-term assignment to Athens, gave the rest of St Mary’s the slip, changed my identity, and took a ship to Italy. It was easy.’
Leon doesn’t often lose his patience. He jabbed his elbow in Herodotus’ mid-section – a nasty, street-fighter’s move that doubled him over. ‘I’ve seen worm-ridden turds I liked better than you,’ he said, and let him drop to the ground. We left him coughing and moaning in the dust while we had a bit of a think.
‘We need to get them back,’ I said. ‘The sooner the better and definitely before nightfall.’
‘Agreed. And bollock-brain here can help us do it.’
‘Fuck off,’ said the Father of History, still face down in the dirt.
Leon kicked him. ‘You’re an important man and a founding father. You could get them out.’
‘Fuck off,’ he said again.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘If that’s your final word. Leon, get him on his feet. We’ll take him back to St Mary’s and hand him over to the Time Police. Let them sort him out. We’ll come back with Major Guthrie and a team and break them out after nightfall.’
‘Good plan,’ said Leon and hauled him upright again.
He wasn’t as hurt as he’d led us to believe. Possibly realising there was no escape now, he struggled, breaking free of Leon’s grasp. The two of them squared up to each other. We were between him and the gate but he was a solid man and he knew it.
‘You’re younger than me, son, but I could take you with one hand behind my back. Or one shout from me, and the whole town will turn up and you’ll join our friends in gaol. So you just let me go and we’ll say no more about it.’
All the evidence to the contrary, I’m actually quite a nice person. All right, I was a little unstable these days, but being Training Officer can do that to you. Mrs Nice Guy went straight out of the window.
I picked up the broom. ‘That’s enough from you, you pus-filled pile of shit. I’m sick to death of you and your ugly face so listen up. We can spend all day threatening each other and getting nowhere, or maybe there’s a way for everyone to get what they want out of this. You cooperate. We get our people back and leave you to end your days in peace and prosperity. Or – if you don’t co-operate – you can just end your days. Period.
‘Trust me,’ said Leon. ‘It’s quicker and easier to eat your own legs than argue with her. Better men than you have tried and died. So what’s it going to be?’
He stood quietly for a while, turning over my offer.
Leon passed me some water. ‘Better get a move on, mate,’ he said, in his new role as decision facilitator. ‘If we don’t return on time there’ll be more St Mary’s people here than you can throw a dead dog at. Maybe even Time Police as well. Think how pleased everyone will be to see you again. Or – you help us, we forget we ever saw you, and everyone gets what they want.’
Both of us shut up and stood quietly while he turned things over in his mind. Eventually, he came to a decision, shouting over his shoulder.
‘Woman! Bring me my sandals.’
We emerged again into the bright sunshine of the lane behind his house.
‘Do you know exactly where they’re being held?’
‘Yes.’
I could see Leon working himself up to saying something.
‘Max, I think you should stay behind.’
I turned slowly. ‘What did you say?’
‘I think you should stay out of this.’
‘Because?’
‘Because if anything goes wrong then one of us is still able to get back to St Mary’s.’
‘I appreciate your reasoning, but if we all end up under arrest then a mature and respectable female can more easily facilitate our path to freedom.’
‘Not sure we’ll be able to find one at this short notice.’
‘I’m going to ignore that comment.’
We trotted down the lane and around the corner.
I said to Herodotus, ‘How much trouble are they in?’
‘Hard to say.’
‘Try.’
‘No, I really don’t know. What passes for a police force here deals mainly with public order and trading offences. And this is a very law-abiding town.’
Until we got here, was the implication.
I contemplated trampling him into the ground.
‘I wouldn’t worry too much,’ said Leon. Just for one moment, he put a gentle hand on my shoulder. ‘No one messes with North if they know what’s good for them and they don’t call her Psycho Psykes for nothing.’
‘Do they?’
‘Personally, Max, I think we should get a move on and rescue the good people of Thurii before North and Sykes cause some sort of international incident and we have to explain things to Dr Bairstow. Or the Time Police.’
‘Agreed,’ said Herodotus.
‘No one asked you.’
Chapter Twelve
None of Thurii was unpleasant or squalid – it hadn’t yet had time to develop any sort of character – but you could see the harbour area would be the first to slide.
There was the actual harbour itself, with some two dozen fishing boats pulled up out of the water. Women squatted around them, gutting fish and tossing the unwanted bits into a pile. A number of mangy and probably very closely related cats sat waiting.
Set further back from the sea were ten or twelve anonymous buildings. These were not so brilliantly whitewashed as the other parts of town. Dogs and women bustled about. Washing was draped over a low wall to dry in the sun. Fishing nets hung on poles to dry, or were being mended. Various stalls had been set up displaying a variety of fishing-related equipment and domestic goods, including a table selling cooking pots and implements. Battered stools and wobbly tables stood in the shade of a grove of eucalyptus trees where a large number of men sat comfortably watching their womenfolk work.
Over on the far side, in its own little huddle of buildings, stood a single-storey thatched structure with no windows. I’d already guessed that was the place, even without the sound of North’s sharp as cut-glass tones raised in complaint and echoing across the water. You had to hand it to her. She was a hundred yards away, locked away in solidly built stone building with solidly built wooden doors and still they could probably hear her in Athens.
‘You should shut her up,’ said Herodotus, nervously. ‘They’re going to go in and sort her out in a minute.’
Leon made himself comfortable on the wall. ‘We’ll wait.’
‘What for?’
‘It’s always easier to rescue someone if you don’t actually have to break down the door yourself.’ He touched his ear. ‘We’re right outside, Miss North. Whenever you’re ready.’
‘You don’t need me, then,’ Herodotus said, turning to go and unfortunately running slap into one of my hairpins.
He really wasn’t having a good day.
‘The fuck was that for?’ he said, rubbing the fleshy part of his upper arm.
‘What are we waiting for?’
Even as the words left his mouth, I pointed and said, ‘That.’
I wasn’t the only one pointing. Those in the café had seen it too. A shout went up.
‘Fire! Fire!’
The thatched roof was smouldering.
‘Bless her,’ said Leon, stretched, and got to his feet. We strolled over, a muttering Father of History between us.
I could hear our people kicking the door and shouting to be let out.
Slaves ran towards the building. These must be their guards. They wore thick tunics and heavy boots. Heaving up the bar, they wrenched the door open. Out tumbled my happy band of pilgrims, a little smoke streaked and coughing, but otherwise, alive and well and very much kicking.
Fat lot of good it did them. They were immediately recaptured. More rod-bearing slaves simply rounded them up and corralled them against a wall while their colleagues organised a bucket chain.
Herodotus smirked. ‘We’re not stupid here, you know. How easy did you think it would be?’
Leon nodded at me. Time for the real Plan A.
I snapped. ‘This easy,’ and nudged him sideways with my hip. He was a solid bloke but years ago, back in the mists of time when I was a trainee myself, Major Guthrie had taught me a very useful trick. I’m short. I think I’ve already said I have the muscle tone of lettuce. I can’t rely on brute force, so Guthrie had taught me that it’s all just a matter of balance, and suddenly, Herodotus didn’t have any. He staggered sideways into the cooking-pot stall, which didn’t stand a chance under his weight.
We left him thrashing around amongst broken planks and shattered pots and creating the sort of diversion that money just can’t buy while the female stallholder screamed and cursed at the top of her voice.
They were forming a bucket chain from the sea. Many men were joining in. The building was in no danger. Easy enough to replace the thatch. I was glad we hadn’t done any permanent damage.
Quite close to us, another group of people were heaving up what looked like the cover to a well and forming a second chain.
And then disaster struck.
I saw it happen. As they always do in a fire, people were running in all directions. Some running away. Some running towards. In all the confusion, right in front of me, I saw a little kid knocked sideways by a man who probably never even noticed him.
