Even the worst nights end eventually. So, although my head still thronged with images of dark figures gesticulating against towering flames, I awoke to the hard clear sunlight that for several hours had been streaming through an open shutter. It must be mid-morning, maybe later. Subdued murmurs told me that my little daughters were close by, playing quietly on the floor together. When I had had adventures, they would often creep up near me while I recovered. I lay for a while, drowsily fighting wakefulness, but then let out a grunt to tell Julia and Favonia they could now scramble on to the bed with me. Helena found us all cuddled up together when she brought a tray of food for me. One arm around each, I kissed the children's soft, sweet-scented heads and gazed at Helena like a guilty dog.
'I am in disgrace.'
'Was it your fault, Marcus?'
'No.'
'Then you are not in disgrace.' I smiled at my tolerant, wise, forgiving girl with all the adoration I could muster. As smiling goes, it was fervently meant, though perhaps rather pallid. 'Don't do that again,' she added waspishly. ' – Ever!'
I remembered that I was delivered home by soldiers, filthy and exhausted. I thought it had been in the dead of night, though Helena reckoned closer to dawn.
'You were sensible enough to order people to look for Pastous at the Library. He was found safe, incidentally. A message came from Aulus. Aulus is coming here later, to see what needs doing.'
She propped me up on cushions while I ticed down a late breakfast. I had little appetite. I let the children steal most of it. Helena perched on a stool, watching without comment. When I pushed away the tray and slumped wearily, she told the girls to run off to see Albia, then we two settled down alone to catch up on all that had happened.
I tried to narrate the story logically, to make sense of it myself.
Helena listened, her great dark eyes thoughtful. It all took time. My words came sluggishly. Left to myself I would have lain still and closed my eyes again.
No use. I had to decide what to do.
'So… where are Fulvius and Pa?'
'They went out, Marcus.' Helena appraised me. I must look a wreck, but she was cool, clean, beautiful in garnet reel and a russet stole. Her face seemed pared and hollow, but her eyes were clear. Although she wore no cosmetic tints, she had dressed her fine hair meticulously, holding it in place with a full pantheon of long ivory pins, topped with little goddesses. Her custom was to be carefully groomed after I had had a scrape – to remind me that I did have someone worth coming home to. 'I had told them you got into trouble in a bar… they believed it very readily. Perhaps you should buff up your reputation, dearest.' She spoke as a long-term partner discussing work, reasserting her own importance. I knew that attitude. It posed no threat. Her sniping tone would be temporary. 'I believe they are hoping to meet Diogenes.'
'He won't turn up!' I shifted about; every joint ached. I found it impossible to get comfortable. 'The military will try to keep a lid on what happened – the Pharos is remote enough, but there were members of the public all over the place. Rumours will leak out.'
'Well, when you came back last night, I rushed down and took over. I have done my best to hide what happened.'
Helena had been magnificent: alarmed, naturally, she pretended to be coping with a reprobate husband; shooed everyone else back to bed. I had heard her rapid enquiries of my escort, their sheepish answers. I remembered her scanning me for wounds, or possibly wicked women's perfumes.
That made me smile at her, a long, deep smile of reassurance and love. Accepting it, Helena hauled herself from her stool, and came across to me. After moving the tray to a side table, she took our daughters' place in my arms, as we held one another for comfort, reconciliation and relief. Once it would have led to more. I was too exhausted; she was too pregnant; we were too intrigued by our enquiries. We lay there, thinking. Don't sneer until you've tried it.
Aulus turned up. He said he had told Pastous to go into hiding – it was either that or protective custody. The fish restaurant where we ate lunch the other day had rooms for hire; Pastous was now secretly staying there. I gave Aulus directions and cash for reward purposes, then sent him across the city to recover the cartload of scrolls that Diogenes abandoned in the street last night. Albia went with him for the adventure.
'I warn you, the man took it into his head I was entrusting him with pornographic literature.'
'I wonder why he would believe that?' mused Helena.
I went to the baths as soon as they opened, then spent the rest of the morning at home. Once I would have bounced back faster, but I had reached an age when a whole night of strenuous activity – not the kind involving women – left me in deep need of recovery time. I consoled myself that Egypt was famous for its sensual baths and exotic masseurs – only to find that the baths near my uncle's house had nothing better to offer than a miserable washing-slave from Pelusion, who slathered me in sickly iris oil then gave me a half-hearted neck massage while he endlessly told me his family problems. It had no effect on my aches and made me utterly depressed. I advised him to leave his wife, but he had married her for her inheritance, which due to the complicated Egyptian inheritance laws, where property was divided between all the children, came to thirty-three two-hundred-and-fortieths of their building.
'Nevertheless, trust me – leave your wife and get a dog. Choose one who has his own kennel, then you can share that and live with him.'
It went down badly.
Chewing gloomily on a quid of papyrus he sold me, I crawled home to Helena. She met me in the courtyard with a warning that the old men had come in; they had gone into a huddle upstairs. Cassius had told her they had heard that Diogenes was in a coma, in military custody, and it was certain he would not live. Before they could tackle me, I commandeered the palanquin and fled. Helena came with me; we set off for the Museion.