The woman turns round, still screaming, and Amara recognizes her. It’s Maria, Simo’s least valuable woman. She stops yelling when she sees Amara and Dido, then screws her face up, spitting at their feet. “For Drauca,” she says, her eyes bright with hatred. She turns back to Gallus, flinging her arm up with anger. “Get him to stop! Look at him! He’s destroying my master’s property!”

Thraso is swinging his hammer at a stone cock that has sprouted high up on the wall. Amara hadn’t noticed it before, but then there are so many in Pompeii. Maria takes advantage of everyone staring upward to give the ladder a violent shake. Thraso clings on, swearing at her. “You’ve no right!” she shrieks. “Stop it!”

“Bitch,” Thraso yells back, brandishing the hammer. “Mind I don’t drop this on your fucking head!”

Ipstilla steps forward, yanking at Maria’s toga to move her out of danger, shouting at her in Spanish. The two women grapple with one another, and the crowd cheer, delighted by the night’s unexpected entertainment.

“Get Felix,” Gallus says to Amara and Dido. “Now.”

They run back to the brothel. It’s no distance away, but the carousing outside the Elephant is so raucous that the noise of the row, just a few houses down, is lost in the chaos. Paris is on the door and is startled to see them charging up the street on their own.

“You need to get Felix,” Amara says. “There’s trouble with one of Simo’s whores. He’ll know what I mean.”

Paris hurries to the flat, banging on the door and yelling. The door opens, and he disappears inside. A few moments later, Felix comes out armed with a metal rod. Paris slinks out behind, obviously being sent back to guard the brothel rather than join in the action.

“Where are the dancers?” Felix asks, surprised to see them on their own.

“They stayed with Gallus,” Dido replies, as they trot behind him.

Felix shakes his head, irritated. “Better take them back with you.”

They reach the ladder, and the crowd parts, more out of respect for the weaponry than the man carrying it. Maria and Ipstilla are still scrapping, Gallus trying to get between them, but at the sight of Felix, they all pull apart. Gallus bundles Ipstilla out of the way. “Fucking women,” he mutters.

“What’s this?” Felix asks. He sounds casual, almost bored, leaning on the metal rod as if it were a staff.

Maria squares up to him, shoulders heaving from her recent exertion. “You tell me!” she shouts. “Your thug’s smashing up my master’s business! Simo rents this room; it’s his. You have no right.”

“This room?” Felix says, swinging the rod toward the small darkened cell that opens directly onto the street. He wrinkles his nose, as if he can smell its stale odor. “Simo rents this room?”