[Heraklia sneezed for the sixth time. This was not surprising; like fowl laid out neatly for sacrifice, she, Ideefixe and Aelius were trussed from head to foot, facedown and forgotten in the allergic sands of Arabia Felix. Nearby, the goat, Nero, was slung upside-down from a pole. The last thing any of them remembered the night before was a suspicious “crunch” from a pile of rocks near their desert hide-a-way; next moment, swirling dervishes exploded out of the desert, there was a short, concentrated series of howls and blows, and then – out cold!

Since waking up, Heraklia had been studying the Foe. This called for some intuition, since all she (or any of them) could see of the Foe was their feet; the occasional bandito passerby flashed merely dirty ankles. By the sound, there were about half of dozen of them, plus camels; a deaf mute should have heard their attack warming up, but Aelius had been discoursing on desert herbs listed by Aristotle that were good for sand-fleas, and not even Ideefixe was paying proper attention]. The the starry desert night, the scent of thyme, the dapple of the waters – really, it was enough to make one cry, to find it full of angry tribesmen with a yen for gold!!!…]

Ideefixe: Dear Heraklia, please stop snuffling into the sand. It’s not only unsanitary, the noise is DISGUSTING.

Aelius [hollowly] LAKSHTE!!? WHYSHEM’T ee ARSHK WHAZZA Watza?

[It should be noted that, when at first Aelius had energetically attempted to speak six dialects of Syrian, plus Pict, to the Robbers, they had stuffed part of his beloved toga into his mouth.]

Heraklia: It’s all right, dear Stilo; as soon as the head man shows up, I will ask him what he wants.

Ideefixe: I’ve almost gotten my hand-ropes loose, but I can’t do a thing with the scarves around the elbows. Demmit! I should have known! – I’d heard them talking in Petra about this desperado band, but the past few nights put me off my guard. I knew Sheikh Abmir Wareeiem and his bandits were in these parts; how could I have MISSED them?

Aelius: Hsssshtt! Quietsh, my dearsh – dey’re cooomin’ bacsh over here!

[Another ankle view, but this time accompanied by the welcome smells of camel stew. Someone was being kind. Someone was carefully flipping the three of them over like broiling bacon and unbinding their wrists. Somebody was passing around wine! Upright again, the kind someone turned out to be a weather-beaten man, peculiarly dressed in what appeared to be Early Bedouin mixed with the headgear of an Inca king, a moth-eaten jaguar skin on his shoulders, and a PDA on his hip!]

Bryce Yupanqui: Yo, friends! I’ve finally persuaded the Sheik to let me feed you. Sorry I can’t be of help, but I’m just hitching a ride with this gang; they're doing the guide thing ONLY if I don’t interfere with business! My name’s Bryce, BTW – a programmer from Machu Picchu…

[This geographically astounding statement – in that the New World wouldn’t be discovered for roughly another 1500 years – is one of the peculiarities of the ancient Monologues with which the Professor will interest herself in due course. For now – forget it!]

Aelius [decloaked and verbal again]: Edepol! From WHERE? We must discuss this, I don’t recall Ptolemy saying anything about your home! And what is “programmer” – is that local dialect?

Bryce: [grinning] Ahh, I wouldn’t worry about it. Around here, my nickname’s Proteus. I did a stint with a troupe of strolling players before I fell in with this lot.

Heraklia: Wait, I’ve heard that name before!! You aren’t the famous Proteus known to our beloved Antice? What did he write me; something about your traveling act, “Ursus the Bear tamer with Roger the Rasslin’ Bear?”

Bryce: [pleased]: What, you mean word’s got to Rome about me? I didn’t think we’d do so well - though we did get some great reviews in the province! Of course, Anticus is a natural ham, and my bear-costume’s from upper Moesia, accurate to a hairs-breadth, if you’ll forgive the pun, so – we didn’t do badly! Of course, Fatima – Tyla – was a big draw. Belly dancing uses muscles you can’t even imagine .

Ideefixe: [impatiently] Forgive me, but let’s cut the pleasantries, we’ve got a situation here! Am I right; is this Sheik Abmir Wareeiem’s mob? What do they want, ransom? And do you mean you were with ANTICUS and Tyla? Until when?! We’ve been looking for them for months!

Proteus: Yes, probably, yes and - three months ago. Why, haven’t you heard from the old boy lately?

M Didius: That’s the problem, Bryce. We’re all here because Anticus is no longer all there - he and Tyla have disappeared!

Bryce: [very worried]: Hades, I can’t believe it! They were en route to Tyrus to pick up a ship to Asia Minor – I think Anticus said Pergamon was the final destination, but he was checking things out as he went. He said he needed a disguise for them both, so we hauled out the old act to travel to the coast. I put them both safely on a ship in Tyrus – so did he make it Pergamon?? Any news on the ship?

Aelius: I wish we knew! You’ve been very helpful, but - well, frankly, the gods sent us this way. We hoped to find out!

Heraklia: And we were hoping to meet our fellows in Lesbos to join forces to find them -before THIS little diversion! We – er – got blown away.

Bryce: [with sudden determination]: Well, this won’t do AT ALL. I don’t mind the occasional kidnap and torture of strangers, but Antice and I are pards – I’ve gotta see what I can do to help. How’s the ransom material? Anyone got any cash, diamonds, gold? I’m afraid if you don’t, they’ll probably just slit your gullets and leave you for the vultures – they travel light!

Aelius [worriedly]: I do have some denarii for our traveling expenses, but we’re a bit low on funds...

Heraklia: And we do have M Didius’ goat, but it won’t go far in a crowd...

Ideefixe: I’ve got my “Croix de Guerre from Gaul,” it’s gold-coated bronze – worth a bit...

[A brief pause to leave our heroes in despair. Bribery is essential – what asset do they have that will counter the dread Sheik’s wroth?]

TBC