Pompeii

'And the oxen?'
    These, Baculus promised, with much solemn pressing of his hands to his heart and rolling of his eyes to heaven, would be ready by the seventh hour. He would attend to it immediately. He wished them all the blessings of Mercury on their journey, and took his leave – but only as far, Attilius noticed, as the bar across the street.
    He assigned the horses on the basis of their strength. The best he gave to Becco and Corvinus, on the grounds that they would have the most riding to do, and he was still explaining his reasons to an aggrieved Corax when Musa reappeared to announce that the castellum aquae was deserted.
    'What?' Attilius wheeled round. 'Nobody there at all?'
    'It's Vulcanalia, remember?'
    Corax said, 'I told you he'd be no help.'
    'Public holidays!' Attilius could have punched the brickwork in frustration. 'Somewhere in this town there had better be people willing to work.' He regarded his puny expedition uneasily, and thought again how unwise he had been in the admiral's library, mistaking what was theoretically possible with what actually could be achieved. But there was nothing else for it now. He cleared his throat. 'All right. You all know what you have to do? Becco, Corvinus – have either of you ever been up to Abellinum before?'
    'I have,' said Becco.
    'What's the set-up?'
    'The springs rise beneath a temple dedicated to the water-goddesses, and flow into a basin within the nymphaeum. The aquarius in charge is Probus, who also serves as priest.'
    'An aquarius as priest!' Attilius laughed bitterly and shook his head. 'Well, you can tell this heavenly engineer, whoever he is, that the goddesses, in their celestial wisdom, require him to close his main sluice and divert all his water to Beneventum. Make sure it's done the moment you arrive. Becco – you are to remain behind in Abellinum and see it stays closed for twelve hours. Then you open it again. Twelve hours – as near exact as you can make it. Have you got that?'
    Becco nodded.
    'And if, by any remote chance, we can't make the repairs in twelve hours,' said Corax sarcastically, 'what then?'
    'I've thought of that. As soon as the water is closed off, Corvinus leaves Becco at the basin and follows the course of the Augusta back down the mountains until he reaches the rest of us north-east of Vesuvius. By that time it will be clear how much work needs to be done. If we can't fix the problem in twelve hours, he can take word back to Becco to keep the sluice-gate closed until we've finished. That's a lot of riding, Corvinus. Are you up to it?'
    'Yes, aquarius.'
    'Good man.'
    'Twelve hours!' repeated Corax, shaking his head. 'That's going to mean working through the night.'
    'What's the matter, Corax? Scared of the dark?' Once again, he managed to coax a laugh from the other men. 'When you locate the problem, make an assessment of how much material we'll need for the repair job, and how much labour. You stay there and send Musa back with a report. I'll make sure I requisition enough torches along with everything else we need from the aediles. Once I've loaded up the wagons, I'll wait here at the castellum aquae to hear from you.'
    'And what if I don't locate the problem?'
    It occurred to Attilius that the overseer, in his bitterness, might even try to sabotage the entire mission. 'Then we'll set out anyway, and get to you before nightfall.' He smiled. 'So don't try to screw me around.'
    'I'm sure there are plenty who'd like to screw you, pretty boy, but I'm not one of them.' Corax leered back at him. 'You're a long way from home, young Marcus Attilius. Take my advice. In this town – watch your back. If you know what I mean.'
    And he thrust his groin back and forth in the same obscene gesture he had made out on the hillside the previous day, when Attilius had been prospecting for the spring.

    He saw them off from the pomoerium, the sacred boundary just beyond the Vesuvius Gate, kept clear of buildings in honour of the city's guardian deities.
    The road ran around the town like a racetrack, passing beside a bronze works and through a big cemetery. As the men mounted their horses Attilius felt he ought to say something – some speech like Caesar's, on the eve of battle – but he could never find those kinds of words. 'When this is done, I'll buy wine for everyone. In the finest place in Pompeii,' he added lamely.
    'And a woman,' said Musa, pointing at him. 'Don't forget the women, aquarius!'
    'The women you can pay for