We'd forgotten about Tiny. He'd been standing to one side watching us and holding the lamp. Now he set it down, put his huge hands under the Baker's armpits and lifted. The pedestal grated against the rock floor and swung free. Jupiter, this I didn't believe! No one was that strong! Maybe old Croesus had pulled a fast one on Apollo and the statue was hollow after all.
On the other hand, remembering the cement bags and what the guy had done to Glycus I wouldn't like to place any large bets. And he must've done it before.
Felix and I looked at each other in silence.
'I think,' Felix said quietly, 'that your friend has plans of his own.'
'Yeah.' I swallowed, and watched.
The veins on Tiny's neck were standing out like ropes, but his expression didn't change. Slowly, very slowly, he carried the Baker over to the entrance and laid her down on her back with the blanket beneath her. Then he went outside and pulled her through.
Scratch the crane: it would appear that we were taking the Baker back with us. Ah, well, I wasn't going to argue with someone capable of lugging four-and-a-half-foot solid gold statues around.
'What about the rest of the stuff?' I said.
Felix was picking up the lamp. 'We leave it here for the moment, sir,' he said. 'If you agree, of course. The Baker's what is important, and now we know where the cave is there's no hurry.'
'Right.' I paused. 'How's your stomach holding out, by the way?'
That got me Felix's best glare. 'Perfectly well,' he said primly. 'Besides, I have my master's statue to consider now.'
'Is that right?' I grinned. 'Remember you said it, then, pal. It's a long rough way back.'
Felix didn't answer.
39
When we came out of the cave Tiny had loaded the Baker onto the boat and was waiting for us. I didn't like the way things were going here, not above half: the Alcyone was pretty small to begin with, and although Felix didn't take up much room Tiny and me together would just about fill all the available space. Also, there were these wormholes in the planking to think about. Personally I'd still have gone for the land option: left the Baker where she was, sailed round Eetioneia into the main harbour and fixed things up in town. The trouble was, Tiny was still calling the shots and, pea-brain or not, he obviously liked doing things his own way. Which meant going back the way we'd come….
Rowing back the way we'd come, because this time the wind was against us. That was one difficulty I hadn't even considered, obvious though it was. And it was obvious, even to a non-sailor like me. I looked at Felix.
'How are you with an oar?' I said.
'I would imagine about as handy as you are, sir.' The guy sounded as cheerful as I felt.
'That bad, eh?' Hell. Purple-stripers didn't row; it was written into the Law of the Twelve Tables. Well, there was nothing else for it, and we needed Tiny at the steering oar. 'Okay. So let's get it over with.
We waded out and pulled ourselves aboard. Tiny sat impassively in the stern as I picked up the oars.
'You want left or right?' I said to Felix.
'Your choice.' I could hear the guy's teeth gritting. 'Frankly, I don't think it matters much.'
'Yeah. Okay. I'll take the left.' I picked up the oar and pushed it through the leather strap. 'Just close your eyes and think of Gaius.'
Mumble, mumble, curse, curse. I grinned despite myself. They say travel broadens the mind. True. I was finding out a lot about Felix this trip.
We lifted the anchor stone and shoved off. Forget your gentlemanly paddle on Lake Como while the reeds whisper in the scented breeze; this was hard work, and as much fun as an abscess. Dangerous, too: Felix hadn't been kidding, and he caught more crabs than I did which meant more often than not we were drifting side on at right angles to where we wanted to go or lurching about like a one-legged duck with a hangover. Neptune — or maybe Poseidon, considering where we were — knew how we made it through the rocks, but it was more by good luck than good judgment. Even Tiny was sweating.
With the Baker aboard the Alcyone moved like a pregnant heifer. What felt like hours passed before I saw the break in the shoreline over to our left. Enough was enough. I stopped rowing.
'Hey, pal,' I said to Tiny. 'That's the harbour mouth over there. You want to call it a day and turn left?'
Beside me Felix lifted his head. If he'd been knackered before he was completely on his uppers now. Well, at least neither of us had been sick. We didn't have the energy.
'I think…sir,' he gasped, 'that the wind…is shifting.'
He was right: it'd swung from head-on to landwards, and it was coming in gusts. 'Hey, great!' I said. 'Maybe we can — ’
Which was when I saw the clouds. Big fat black ones, rolling up the Gulf towards us and trailing a curtain of grey beneath them like a shroud. Something cold touched my spine.
'Oh, shit!' I murmured. 'Oh, holy Jupiter! Tiny…'
He'd seen them too, obviously. He put the steering oar over and the stem of the boat edged sluggishly towards the land, following the wind.
Felix picked up his oar again. 'Sir…we need more…way. Perhaps you could…help, please?'
'Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.' I might be no seaman, but I saw the problem. We needed to turn far enough round to be able to use the sail; that way we might make the safety of the harbour before the storm hit. The problem was, with the Baker aboard we were too low in the water, and if we turned too suddenly we ran the risk of being swamped. So the turn had to be graduaclass="underline" a wide circle that would finally bring our nose to the harbour mouth and put the wind square behind us. That would take time we didn't have; which meant, of course, that we had to increase our forward speed.
We almost made it. Almost. Felix and I rowed like madmen while Tiny worked the oar. Jupiter knew how long it took, and how close the storm was, but finally I could see the harbour entrance straight ahead and the wind was at the nape of my neck. Tiny got up to set the sail…
Which was when the wave came. It came from nowhere and slammed into us broadside on like a kick from a mule, canting the Alcyone sideways and flooding her. Tiny made a grab for the mast and went arse over tip as the Baker shifted and slid beneath him, smashing through the wormed planking like a battering-ram. Sky and sea changed places, and suddenly I was trying to breathe air that wasn't there any more. I had one glimpse of the golden woman sinking beneath me, blanket flapping and both hands held out towards me before something slammed into the back of my head and all the lights in the world went out.
I woke up stretched half way across a rock, vomiting and with a splitting headache. Some evil-minded sod was digging the heels of his hands into my back just above the kidneys. I retched, bringing up what felt like another straight pint of Greek seawater…
'That's it, sir. Go ahead, better out than in.' Squeeze. Retch. 'You'll be all right shortly.'
Oh, Jupiter! Oh, Poseidon! 'Felix, you ham-fisted, over-cheerful bastard..!'
'Just think of it as a permanent cure for sea sickness.'
I retched again. This time I only managed a dribble. Then the coughing started.
Never cough ribs-down on a boulder. I turned over and sat back to do it in comfort. Relative comfort.
'What happened?' I said when I'd finished.
Felix sniffed. 'We sank.'
Neptune and all his tritons! 'Yeah. I'd sort of gathered that,' I said.
'Well, you did ask.'
I looked around. We were on a beach somewhere and it was throwing it down like there was no tomorrow. Otherwise there wasn't all that much to go on. 'I was thinking more in terms of the fine detail,' I said.