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Once again Amarantus is waiting to be seen by Axiochus, this time on a bench in the cool atrium rather than standing outside on the hot pavement, but as the sun rises higher and begins to make the water in the impluvium glitter, he can’t stop the tears from coming. He was so close to making the bar a success. But he spent the last of his money on those four Gaza amphorae and now he has nothing to serve but some sour Setinum. Petronius’s thug Faustus is coming to collect his thousand sesterces loan at noon. Amarantus signed a contract saying that if he couldn’t pay, then the wine bar would belong to Petronius. In his mind he can see great queues of disappointed Pompeians turning away from the bar in disgust and vowing never to go there again. In his mind he can see Faustus showing up and forcing him to leave the bar, along with its rooms and garden, perhaps even making them wall up the passage between house and bar. Once again it will become a place for gambling, drunkenness and noise. And it will ruin them. |
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Then he hears a familiar hee-haw. He stands up and looks around the cool, bright atrium. ‘Potiscus?’ The hee-haw comes from the cubiculum to the right of the vestibule. The same place that he was kept at Amarantus’s house. The wooden door is half open and the pungent scent of mule dung encourages him to enter. ‘Potiscus!’ he cries. And then. ‘Oh, poor boy. What has he done to you?’ A small high window with spiked bars gives enough light for him to see his beloved mule tethered to one of the bars. The rope is so short that Potiscus cannot reach the bucket of water at his feet, though he keeps trying. As Amarantus moves closer he sees flies buzzing around fresh welts on the mule’s rump. Axiochus’s slaves have been beating him. They probably don’t know that wine is the only thing that will get the mule moving. As he reaches out to loosen the rope so Potiscus can drink, someone rises from the bed of hay nearby. It is one of Axiochus’s slaves, a big ugly brute called Plector because his main skill is thumping people. ‘What are you doing in here?’ demands Plector. ‘Sorry!’ says Amarantus. ‘I need the latrine.’ ‘Hold it in,’ growls Plector. ‘At least loosen this mule’s rope so he can drink!’ ‘Get out!’ Plector moves forward with clenched fists and a menacing expression. As Amarantus hastily retreats, Potiscus gives a wheezy hee- haw of distress. |
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Back in the atrium Amarantus cannot hold back the tears anymore. He sits on the bench and pulls the napkin from the front of his tunic so that he can wipe his eyes and blow his nose. He would hate Axiochus to see that he’s been weeping. A woman’s whisper in his ear almost makes him jump out of his tunic. Julia Helena, the highborn wife of Axiochus, has perched on a cushion beside him. She is a short woman with brown hair and twinkling eyes. He likes her because she is always kind to animals. Her smile fades when she sees his swollen eyes. ‘Dear Amarantus,’ she says. ‘Has my husband got you weeping? He can be such a bully sometimes. I think it’s because he’s jealous of you.’ ‘Axiochus? Jealous of me?’ ‘Yes! You have an exciting new business in Pompeii. A bar that serves exotic wines and bar snacks.’ ‘I won’t have a bar in a few hours,’ says Amarantus. ‘Axiochus has confiscated four amphorae of wine and my mule, as well.’ She touches his arm. Her hand is small and cool, with a different ring on every finger. ‘Tell me,’ she says, ‘What can I do?’ ‘Talk to him?’ ‘He won’t be told. He is the most contrary man I have ever met. But anything else? Is it money?’ He nods miserably. ‘And my mule, Potiscus.’ ‘That smelly noisy creature? I’d be thrilled for you to take it back. In fact …’ She pulls a ring from the little finger of her left hand. ‘Take this as a loan. And if you can think of some way to make him return that mule then you may keep that ring. It’s an antique of Greek gold and carnelian. See? The gem swivels to show Aphrodite crouching at her bath. It’s worth at least a thousand sesterces.’ Amarantus is tempted to kiss his benefactress but instead bows his head in thanks and prays a blessing. ‘May all the gods and especially Dionysus reward your generosity.’ Then in a low voice he says, ‘When your husband receives me, do three things. Send Plector on an errand, untie the mule’s rope and bring the two of us a beaker of wine each, being sure to spill a little in the atrium on the way. Can you do that?’ ‘Easily!’ she says. ‘But what effect will that have?’ ‘If I know that mule, he will come charging through the tablinum into the study, knocking over any furniture you don’t like along the way. I’ll tell Axiochus that the mule is possessed by a demon and that only I know how to control him. I’ll offer him one of the amphorae of the wine from Gaza as thanks for looking after the mule and storing the wine that was wrongly-delivered.’ ‘Dear, clever Amarantus,’ says Julia Helena, ‘I think you are going to be keeping your bar and my ring, as well. Use it wisely.’ |
