Page 82 of Vesuvius

‘It’s our best chance. Cut diagonally across the field. You’re less bulky than they are, you’ll have an easier time at it. But with any luck they’ll follow me.’

‘With any luck?’ Loren’s breathless screech shot in pitch. ‘Felix, no!’

‘I have a plan,’ he said, then shoved Loren sideways through an opening in the trellis. Loren fell with an indignant cry, tripping over his feet, but Felix clenched his teeth and kept moving.

He had years of practice at that.Keep moving, his father used to say,and sooner or later they’ll tire of chasing you. Keep moving and survive another night.

Felix hoped that would hold true.

Not daring to look back, he plunged deeper into the field, sandals striking season-hardened soil. Veering sharply, he took his chances with a promising gap. From there, it was a matter of keeping a row or two of space between him and the guards, zigzagging across the empty vineyard. In the hottest part of the day, the fieldworkers had abandoned half-full baskets of grapes, seeking shade.

Eyeing these, another plan struck. He emptied a basket into the laundry bag. If this failed, at least he’d have a snack on the way to his execution.

Felix had barely slipped through the next gap when a reedy cry stopped him.

‘You there, stop!’

Two men stood down the row, one trim and proper, the other hunched over a basket. Baring his teeth in what he hoped resembled a smile, Felix raised a hand in peace, then jogged to meet them.

‘Greetings! Are you the grape-keeper?’ A bullshit term. But he had long since learned that if you bullshitted confidently enough, anything sounded authentic.

‘Aye,’ the upright one said. He wore the fine linens of an esteemed director, someone good at ordering work without lifting a finger. He clasped his hands, heels together at a sharp angle. A badge glinted on his shoulder. ‘I am Master Adolphus, caretaker of these lands. I assume you are a thief?’

‘Depends on your definition,’ Felix said.

The hunched man paused harvesting fruit long enough to snort. He wore the wide-brimmed hat of a field slave, the skin of his arms seared bright red. Adolphus kicked his leg.

‘Silence, Stravo. This is no time for laughter.’ He turned to Felix. ‘You realise trespassing is a crime?’

Felix shot him his most disarming grin. Three more beats. That’s all he needed.

Adolphus didn’t waver. ‘And that such a crime is punishable by—’

Tragically, Felix never received his sentence. Behind him, a trellis crashed to the ground and a man in leather armour wielding a sword burst onto the scene.

‘Why, sir, I never,’ Adolphus squawked, stepping back into the chest of the second guard, emerging on the other side. ‘No weapons in the vineyard!’

‘Apologies, Master,’ the swordsman said. For once, he wore no identifying colours, and his signature hawk crest was absent, but beneath the iron helmet, Felix would recognise him anywhere: his old friend Darius. ‘We’re pursuing this thief. He’s wanted in the city.’

Poor flustered Adolphus fought to regain his composure, while at his feet, Stravo sniggered. Smoothing his tunic, Adolphus said, ‘Very good. It seems you came just in time. He is here to steal our prized assets.’

The second guard, the one with the bow, frowned. ‘Grapes? I’m afraid this is a bit—’

‘Do you think,’ Felix interjected, adopting a mask of cool indifference at odds with his racing heart, ‘my father will be pleased with the way I’ve been treated, Master Adolphus?’

He held out his hand. In the high afternoon sun, Loren’s signet ring winked.

The effect was immediate and fully consuming. Adolphus’s flushed face transformed from red hot to pasty pale. Stravo muttered a curse. Darius and his comrade stared, confused.

‘My father owns this vineyard.’ Felix dropped his hand before the ring could be inspected. Authentic as it might have been, it was craftedfor Loren’s slender fingers. Anyone with half a brain would notice how tightly it fitted Felix. ‘He sent me here for samples. A quality inspection. Anonymous,’ he added for Adolphus’s benefit.

Word didn’t need to make it back to Lucius Lassius. If Loren had kept his head down this long, no sense alerting his father that he was now conducting spontaneous inspections on their outlying properties.

‘Samples my arse,’ Darius said. ‘Lying bastard.’

Adolphus bristled. ‘You dare insult my employer’s son?’

Felix shot him a fond look. Adolphus might be an idiot, but he was a loyal one. Or a bootlicking one. In the moment, Felix would accept either.

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