Pompeii

temper. 'If you refuse to help me, I swear that the first thing I'll do after the main line is repaired is to see to it that the spur to Pompeii is closed.' He had no authority to issue such a threat, but he swept on anyway, jabbing his finger in Cuspius's chest. 'And I'll send to Rome for a commissioner to come down and investigate the abuse of the imperial aqueduct. I'll make you pay for every extra cupful you've taken beyond your proper share!'
    'Such insolence!' shouted Brittius.
    'He touched me!' said Cuspius, outraged. 'You all saw that? This piece of scum actually laid his filthy hand on me!' He stuck out his chin and stepped up close to Attilius, ready for a fight, and the engineer might have retaliated, which would have been disastrous – for him, for his mission – if the curtain had not been swished aside to reveal another man, who had obviously been standing in the passageway listening to their conversation.
    Attilius had only met him once, but he was not about to forget him in a hurry: Numerius Popidius Ampliatus.

    What most astonished Attilius, once he had recovered from the shock of seeing him again, was how much they all deferred to him. Even Brittius swung his plump legs over the side of the table and straightened his back, as if it was somehow disrespectful to be caught lying down in the presence of this former slave. Ampliatus put a restraining hand on Cuspius's shoulder, whispered a few words in his ear, winked, tousled his hair, and all the while he kept his eyes on Attilius.
    The engineer remembered the bloody remains of the slave in the eel pool, the lacerated back of the slave-woman.
    'So what's all this, gentlemen?' Ampliatus suddenly grinned and pointed at Attilius. 'Arguing in the baths? On a religious festival? That's unseemly. Where were you all brought up?'
    Popidius said, 'This is the new aquarius of the aqueduct.'
    'I know Marcus Attilius. We've met, haven't we, aquarius? May I see that?' He took Pliny's letter from Popidius and scanned it quickly, then glanced at Attilius. He was wearing a tunic bordered in gold, his hair was glossy, and there was the same smell of expensive unguents that the engineer had noticed the previous day.
    'What is your plan?'
    'To follow the spur from Pompeii back to its junction with the Augusta, then to work my way along the main line towards Nola until I find the break.'
    'And what is it you need?'
    'I don't know yet exactly.' Attilius hesitated. The appearance of Ampliatus had disconcerted him. 'Quicklime. Puteolanum. Bricks. Timber. Torches. Men.'
    'How much of each?'
    'Perhaps six amphorae of lime to start with. A dozen baskets of puteolanum. Fifty paces of timber and five hundred bricks. As many torches as you can spare. Ten strong pairs of hands. I may need less, I may need more. It depends how badly the aqueduct is damaged.'
    'How soon will you know?'
    'One of my men will report back this afternoon.'
    Ampliatus nodded. 'Well, if you want my opinion, your honours, I think we should do all in our power to help. Never let it be said that the ancient colony of Pompeii turned its back on an appeal from the Emperor. Besides, I have a fishery in Misenum that drinks water like Brittius here drinks wine. I want that aqueduct running again as soon as possible. What do you say?'
    The magistrates exchanged uneasy glances. Eventually Popidius said, 'It may be that we were over-hasty.'
    Only Cuspius risked a show of defiance. 'I still think this ought to be Nola's responsibility –'
    Ampliatus cut him off. 'That's settled then. I can let you have all you need, Marcus Attilius, if you'll just be so good as to wait outside.' He shouted over his shoulder to the steward. 'Scutarius! Give the aquarius his shoes!'
    None of the others spoke to Attilius or looked at him. They were like naughty schoolboys discovered fighting by their master.
    The engineer collected his shoes and walked out of the tepidarium, into the gloomy passageway. The curtain was quickly drawn behind him. He leaned against the wall to pull on his shoes, trying to listen to what was being said, but he could make out nothing. From the direction of the atrium he heard a splash as someone dived into the swimming pool. This reminder that the house was busy for the holiday made up his mind for him. He dared not risk being caught eavesdropping. He opened the second curtain and stepped back out into the dazzling sunlight. Across the atrium, beyond the tablinum, the surface of the pool was rocking from