Read Online A Roman Ransom by Rosemary Rowe - Free Book Online Page B

– I could see the wall and the leafless fruit trees of the orchard on the other side – but the gate was not yet in view and there was nothing on the left-hand side but woods. So what had halted us? A bear or wolf, perhaps? There were rumoured to be such animals still living in the forest hereabouts, and bands of brigands too, though I had never set eyes on any of these things. I lifted back the curtain even more, and – with due caution – craned my head to see.
    No snarling beasts confronted me, but there was something in the middle of the road. The litter-bearers had put down the chair, and gone to see what the obstruction was.
    I struggled up a bit and craned a little more. It looked for all the world like a pile of logs, just dumped in the middle of the road, as if someone had come here with a cart and simply unloaded it where it was most in the way.
    I had to lean a long way out to see, but when I did I saw that I was right. It was a pile of wood, and it completely blocked the route. The bearer-slaves were starting to haul parts of it away under the supervision of the medicus, but it was too big a pile for them to move with any ease. Junio, I saw, was clambering round the side and was obviously on the way to the villa to get help.
    But help was on the way. A donkey cart had reached the other side and the driver was getting down to see what was afoot. He was a big man and he was furious. I could hear a stream of oaths and curses even from where I lay, but he joined in the job of clearing up the road, lifting huge tree trunks in his burly arms and dragging them aside in a way which made the bearer-slaves look ineffectual, although they were used to lifting things, of course, and were strong lads themselves.
    I was so busy watching what was going on that I’d abandoned all pretence of lying still and was propped up on my arm, leaning halfway out of the litter on one side, with the right-hand curtain pulled completely back. Therefore, when somebody lifted the leather curtain behind me, and pushed something hard and bulky in against my legs, it took me a moment to realise that it was happening.
    I turned my head as quickly as I could, but already the leather screen had fallen back, and I could not swivel round at first because the object – whatever it might be – was pinning down my feet. I had to make an effort before I freed myself, and by the time I’d rolled across and lifted the other curtain up again, there was nothing to be seen. My visitor – whoever it was – had already disappeared into the trees. However, I could now see what they’d left behind: something large and hard and wicker-basket-like.
    Despite my aching head I sat upright to get a better view. A basket, certainly, but of unusual size – the kind of basket people use for storing foodstuffs. It had a sort of cover made of woven reeds and I stretched out an exploring hand to lift the lid. And then I stopped. There was a distinct sensation reaching me, a sort of rocking, as if something inside the basket had begun to move.
    I had meant to lift it closer so that I could examine it more carefully, but it was too heavy for me to move one-handed in my state of health, and I could not move without upsetting it – and I wasn’t at all anxious to do that. I was not at my most quick-witted, I suppose, but it was coming to me what other things are kept in woven baskets of this type.
    Snakes, I thought, feeling an unpleasant little chill run down my back. Or some other animal. In fact, I was becoming sure of it. The whole thing was wiggling by now, and there was a sort of muted sound that might have been a hiss.
    And then I lost my nerve. I did what anyone in their senses would have done before. I let out a roar. ‘Junio!’ I bellowed. ‘Philades! Somebody! Come here!’
    But my cry must have disturbed the basket’s occupant. There was a last convulsive wiggle and the whole thing toppled on its side. Before any of my travelling companions could