He side-stepped the stallholder and ran. He was not alone. From the shouts behind, it sounded as though at least fifty people were chasing him – goodness knows why!.
He made straight for the nearest exit from the Forum. This proved to be a narrow, unevenly paved street lined on both sides with half-ruined houses. Twenty yards along he turned sharp left up a side street, and after another fifteen yards he went right again to try and throw off the pursuers. Five yards ahead of him the road was barred with a sign saying “Pericolo – Entrata Divieta”.
For a moment Ben hesitated. Then he realised what it was. He had read that the earthquakes of a few years before had caused extensive damage to the ruins and that a large part of the ancient city had not yet been repaired and made safe for visitors. Ben decided that the least of the two dangers to which he was exposed lay ahead of him. He hurdled the barrier, ran a further twenty yards down the street, ducked through a crumbling gateway and into one of the damaged buildings. He went through the entrance, across the atrium and came into what had once been a little garden, now overgrown and half-submerged by collapsed walls. There he stopped to listen for sounds of pursuit. But, except for a few shouts in the distance, he could hear nothing getting closer.
He got out his map again to check roughly where he was. He still appeared to be heading in the general direction of the Porta Nola. He had no idea whether he would be able to get out that way, but he preferred the prospect of scrambling over some mounds of rubble to facing the three crooks behind him. The thought occurred to him that perhaps he’d find some men working on the ruins, although there had been no sign of that sort of thing so far. He would just have to try to keep clear of them if he came across anyone like that.
Ben put his map in his pocket and carefully made his way out of the back doorway into another narrow street. There was no one in sight to either left or right but he moved off cautiously. He often changed direction and frequently checked over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. He kept as close as he could to the shady side of the street, although he had to make frequent detours to avoid the piles of rubble from collapsed buildings. The earthquakes certainly seemed to have caused major devastation to this part of the already ruined city. What remained of roofs and walls had fallen in many places. Lintels and door surrounds had tumbled to the ground. Pavements had cracked and tilted. Everywhere weeds and creepers were starting to cover the rubble. The whole place seemed like a giant bombsite.
Ben kept up a steady pace, perspiring freely in the hot afternoon sun. He thought that he must be getting somewhere near the gateway by now. A few minutes later he rounded a corner and saw the old city wall ahead. It was about twelve feet high at this point with a rough, irregular top, punctuated by occasional bushes. Getting on to it would be no problem, because it had collapsed on the ancient city side in several places. However Ben wanted to be extra careful now that he was close to his destination. Once on top of the wall he would be exposed to any searchers. He half climbed one of the piles of rubble until he could raise his head cautiously above the top of the excavations. He looked round carefully.
At first he saw nothing. But then his care was repaid, for he picked out one of the gangsters walking along the edge of the field just above the limit of the excavations and looking down into the ruins. The man was obviously trying to spot anyone who might be moving about below him. Ben couldn’t see where his two mates were.
Keeping his head down, he decided to look for a less exposed place to cross the wall. Sure enough, about twenty yards away there was a small clump of olive trees protruding over the top. He reckoned there was a good chance of him crossing unseen at that point. So he dropped down and made for the spot. The wall here was in better repair but the uneven brickwork provided plenty of holds for an experienced climber. Ben could have wished for a better pair of shoes than the dainty ones with pointed toes which Donna had chosen for him. However it only meant that he had to transfer more of the load to his hands.
Cautiously he edged onto the top of the wall, keeping his body low behind the weeds. The urge to look round to check on his pursuers was almost overwhelming but Ben had heard that the sunlight landing on a white face is a surer giveaway than slow, careful movement. Taking a deep breath he crept out of the undergrowth and slid under the overhanging olives, expecting to hear a shout at any second. However luck seemed to be with him. He raised himself to a crouch in the protecting shade and looked back. The man was still there but he had his back turned at this moment, so now was the time to move.
There was a low barbed wire fence along the outside of the wall and the drop here was nearly twenty feet, but it presented no real obstacle. Ben chose to go down one of the sinewy but slippery olive trunks. Keeping his weight wide to increase his hold he quickly shinned down to the ground. At last he felt safe. He moved round the clump of olives and found himself face to face with one of the people who had been searching for him.