LYING IN A STICKY SPOT
THE IDES OF JUNE
SIX O'CLOCK AND ALL IS UNWELL
I awoke with a start.
Daylight was streaming into the room, even reaching through the shadows my hiding was reliant upon. What was that sound? It was a little like a bullfrog croaking in a vat of wine and yes, I have tried this so I know.
A strange sort of Sort of growl in fact.
With a great weight still sitting on my head, and my squashed left cheek feeling damp I drool in my sleep even at the best of times I rotated my eyes about to best make out the source of the odd wake up call.
Perhaps I should have stayed asleep, or just announced my presence then and there. For with a quick check of the underside of the bed, my straining eyeballs caught sight of a set of snarling teeth and a pair of Gavius-like bulging peepers peering under the mattress at me.
Of course, why not?
Claudius' terrier the one I had met when the barkeep had first shown me the fish. Yellow teeth, bad breath and inflamed gums the dog didn't look too good either.
However as some small blessing I noticed the growling wasn't attracting much attention from the sleeping occupant above me. Then, of course, I heard a woman's giggles and at last, as fear of the inevitable overcame me, I understood.
The dog apparently was not Claudius', and had been sleeping until now in someone else's room. This someone else, who had now jumped into the barkeep's bed and had left the hallway door partly ajar privacy didn't seem a big thing here.
If the image of what was about to happen wasn't bad enough knowing my scull was unlikely to take a forthcoming pounding as the bedding and stretched copper wire pressed down around me - that was of far greater concern. I had to think quick, while trying not to panic.
Naturally I panicked.
I grabbed the snarling spotted terrier, and before the canine knew what danger it was in, I bit its tail as I've mentioned before, irony is a funny old girl.
Letting out a fearful yelp, the pup's legs sped to a blur, and as I let go, it took off out the door and into the hallway crying foul murder in dog-speak.
The giggling above ceased and a pair of pale feminine legs and pretty feet set down quickly on the floor, before heading off in concern carrying a very pleasant naked rear out to the corridor.
From there I heard, Bitsy? Bitsy? What's the matter darl?
Apparently slightly abashed at the interruption or perhaps pretending to show interest the pretty feet and pleasant bottom were soon followed by callused hooves and a sight I'd rather not remember. Anyway I was too busy trying to catch my first proper breath all night to really care much of Claudius' retreat from my five-day-old-onion-stew-smelling-prison.
As their naked concern took place outside the room, I dragged myself from under the bed, still struggling for sensation below my waist but not struggling so much as to keep me from dashing to the window.
Never a more wonderful sight did a fifteen-foot plunge to certain death seem.
And I made it to the flaky painted frame just in time to catch a glimpse of a mule hauled twin-axel cart of farm compost fast approaching.
It was a delivery from the gods. The Fates weren't done with me yet. Indeed I almost yelled in reverent glee.
Yet as I braced to leap, I had this uncanny feeling of having forgotten something.
Ah, yes, there it was, right on cue my conscience.
Filled with a zest to live, I flew back to the shoebox, threw it open and lifted Gavius' tightly curled and still sleeping shape from it. In my feverishly-strong arms he felt as light as, well, a sodding heavy ball.
His fish slopped back onto the floor of the box as the heavy lid slapped shut and locked itself, but I didn't care. Claudius was going to be back at any moment.
Hoisting my friend onto the windowsill I timed the cart's passage and hurled Gavius into the air.
I didn't wait to see how good my timing was, for with a leap of foolishness I was after him, dropping quickly towards the overfilled farm wagon. As it turned out, my nervous compulsion held out the Fates had woken for a new day and our landing was into a soft forgiving pillow.
That the load turned out to be very fresh stable manure from horses apparently fed a large dose of laxatives didn't concern me at all, as I peered up at Claudius' fast disappearing bedroom window. No shout was raised. The violent barkeep's head never poked through the aperture.
We had escaped.
All I had to do now was find Porcia, and, oh, yes, pull Gavius out of the muck about us before he drowned.
