The Villa of the Fauns, Outside Rome
Ila woke in darkness, hearing a strange sound. She was curled up with a mended old quilt and a thin straw pillow. It was a small bed, really no more than a box bolted to the side of the wagon. Beneath were two cabinets filled with tent stakes, ropes, flags and boxes of carefully hoarded brass nails. Cautiously, she looked around, seeing nothing but darkness and a thin slat of moonlight at the edge of the door.
"Go away, bad ghosts," she whispered. Since the horrible night of the eruption, the manes and lamiae that crept and crawled in the countryside had been very restless. Sometimes, when the moon had set at night, she could hear them tap-tap-tapping on the doors or scratching at the windows. Ila made sure to keep inside, with her charms close at hand. It was worse, of course, if they were near a crossroads.
The sound came again, a hoarse moaning like a rabbit being steamed alive in a copper kettle.
Ila shuddered and burrowed under the covers, pulling the quilt over her mussed brown hair. She prayed fervently to the Many-Handed to make the sound go away, hoping that it was just one of the horses taken with the bloat or maybe Otho drunk, puking under the wagon.
Anything but a ghost!
This time the sound was sharp and abrupt, followed by a rattling sound. Ila poked her head out of the covers, pressing her ear to the wall of the wagon. There was a muffled sound-footsteps?-and the creak of a door. Now, that did sound like Otho. Perhaps he and Franco had been out too late and had gotten some bad wine. Then they had been vomiting behind the wagons. Ila shook her head. Those boys were going to get in big trouble.
She climbed down out of the box, dragging the quilt along, and pushed open the door. Across the way, dimly illuminated by the thin moon, she saw the door of Diana's wagon standing half open. Candlelight flickered inside.
"Oh, dear!" Ila scurried across the grass between the wagons and hopped up the steps to the doorway. The quilt trailed behind her like a big floppy tail, picking up leaves and stems. For the last two days, they had been camped on the hunting grounds of a rich senator whom Vitellix knew, near the city. The troupe master had been gone for quite some time, inquiring after the state of the games and who would be arranging them. It was very dull, waiting for him to come back. Ila was feeling skittish-she hadn't been able to show her riding tricks in Narni; the stage had been too small. Even teaching Diana to drive a chariot was dull-the redheaded woman's reflexes were too good… not so much as a crash to liven things up!
A small tallow candle lit Diana's wagon. Ila peered in, blinking in the light.
"Shhh." Ila's head jerked to one side, snub nose twitching. Dummonus was standing beside the bed. He was only half dressed, his broad chest smooth and bare, his hair mussed with sleep. His face, though, was as calm as ever, the placid perfection of a temple statue.
Diana moaned again, turning in the woolen covers. One arm rose, candlelight gleaming on the patchwork of fine white scars covering her forearms.
"Look out," she said in a perfectly normal voice. "No, Nikos. Look out."
Ila crept into the wagon and to the side of Diana's bed. The young woman was sweating heavily, tangled in her covers. Dummonus held her shoulders down. One of her arms was bruised from striking the wall of the wagon. Diana's eyes were wide open, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Ila gulped. Her friend's face was contorted by a horrible feral grimace.
"What is it?" Ila could barely whisper.
Dummonus shook his head slowly. Diana suddenly shuddered under his hands and he bore down. Her arms twitched and quivered, then her fingers curled around some invisible object as if she were crushing it. A deep growl issued from her chest. Then she suddenly became still again.
"I do not know, mouse. She woke me with a cry."
Ila's fingers crept out of the quilt and took Diana's hand.
"Oh, Dummonus. She's so cold!" Ila wrapped her thin hands around Diana's, trying to press some warmth back into them. "Is she remembering?"
"Yes," the aerialist said in his placid voice. "I think she is."
Ila crawled into the bed, dragging her quilt behind her. Diana moaned again, softly, and turned away from her towards the wall. Ila curled in behind her, dragging the blankets over the two of them. Ila wrapped her arm around Diana and closed her eyes. Diana's flesh was cold and chill to the touch, but her breathing eased. Dummonus waited a moment before snuffing out the candle.
Then he sat back down in the darkness to wait.
– |"Shirin?"
Morning sunlight shone in through the door of the wagon. Diana looked around, her eyes heavy with sleep. She frowned at the door. It should be closed. She tried to get up, but there was an unexpectedly heavy weight on her chest. There were three or four more quilts on her than she remembered and it was very warm in the bed. She fell back, still very sleepy.
Wasn't there someone here with me, sleeping, her head on my chest?
Sparrows called outside in the trees. There were voices too, the usual cheerful banter around the morning fire. Tin plates rattling and horses whickering. Otho whistling as he filled their feed bags. Everything was just as it should be.
"Oh, oh, goddess…" Diana felt a horrible pain in her chest. There was supposed to be someone here, right here, lying beside her. She put out her hand. There was warmth under the quilts, right where someone should have been. But no one was there. The pain got worse, choking her, and she struggled under the covers, trying to throw them back.
"Time for breakfast!" Ila climbed up into the wagon, her cheerful little face haloed by the morning sun. "Are you awake? Diana!"
Diana couldn't breathe. She was choking. Her left hand clawed at the wall. Ila was at her side in a blur of motion, her little round face close. Her eyes were huge with concern.
"Oh! Oh! Diana, you've got to breathe! Don't let the ghosts steal your breath!"
Diana made a choking sound and wrenched herself upright. Ila flew backwards, hitting the wall. The young woman rolled out of the bed onto the cold, hard floor and her stomach heaved. Nothing came out. She started to curl up, banging her head on the floor. Ila scrambled down off the bed and threw her arms around Diana's shoulders. With all her might, she dragged back, trying to uncurl the woman. There was a gasping sound and then a groan. Diana collapsed.
Ila rolled aside, panting with effort. She was strong for a girl her age, but the raw power in the woman's shoulders and upper arms was more than she could overcome.
"Are you breathing?" Ila pushed at Diana's shoulders and rolled the woman over. Diana stared at her with dead eyes. She said nothing. Ila sat back against the wall and let out a huge sigh of relief. "You are breathing."
After a moment, Diana sat up, looking away from the girl. She stood and began to dress herself. Ila waited for a little while, but Diana refused to look at her. The mousy girl frowned and thought of saying what was on her mind, but decided not to.
"Vitellix came back," she said at last. "He says that there will be a choosing tonight, at the house of one of the senators. He has invitations for two of us. I think he wants you and me to go with him."
"Why?" Diana was still facing the wall and her voice sounded listless and drained.
"Because there aren't any other female aerialists, silly. And only one Ila, who can ride horses."
Diana turned a little, looking over her shoulder, eyes dark with anger. "Anyone can ride a horse."
"Not like me," Ila said with a sniff of disdain. "You should know that."
Diana glared at the girl, but her anger had already faded. She felt ill-empty and full at the same time. The world was filled with portents and hidden signs; even the beatific face of the girl seemed to hide something. Something foul.
"I will go," she said, her voice still flat. "I should have some use."
– |It was well after dark when they came to the house of the senator. The street was lined with bright torches and lanterns. Vitellix flipped the reins and clucked at the two high-stepping horses drawing the little chariot. Diana and Ila, wrapped in heavy floor-length cloaks, clung to the rails. Otho and Franco had built the chariot the winter before for a new act. Tonight, feeling they needed to make a suitable entrance, Vitellix decided to drive.
The senator's house was on the side of a broad hill, on a narrow street of blank walls and deeply recessed doorways. Tonight, with this party under way, the walls of the house were ornamented with hanging garlands and wreaths of holly and flowers. Guardsmen loitered around the doorway. Vitellix pulled up and dismounted with a flourish. Diana stepped down lightly after him, the hood of the cloak pulled well over her face. Ila hopped down afterwards and twitched her own hood forwards.
A servant ran up and Vitellix passed the boy a coin and the reins. The boy ducked his head, pocketed the coin before the guardsmen could see, then led the horses and the chariot away. The nearest of the guardsmen, his helmet crowned by stiff plumes of ostrich feathers, raised a hand as the three stepped into the entryway. "Invitation, citizen."
Vitellix proffered a stamped metal disk. The guardsman squinted at the token, his face mostly hidden by his helmet. Satisfied, he waved them inside. Ila crept past, hiding between Diana and Vitellix. The Gaul seemed quite at home in this place with its high white walls and evergreen wreaths. Diana seemed comfortable as well, though the guardsmen looked at her suspiciously as she passed. The doorway led into a hall of pillars and smooth, polished stone floors. More servants were waiting.
Vitellix waved them aside, politely refusing drink, food, a companion and a place to put his cloak. Diana drifted after him, her footfalls whisper soft on shining marble. The hall was formed by a series of domed vaults. The ceiling of each dome was filled with a painting of blue sky, complete with fleecy clouds, birds and-in the center of one-a glowing golden sun. Circular iron chandeliers hung from chains in each dome, crowded with candles. Ila followed Vitellix, her hand on his belt, staring up in wonder.
In the massed candlelight the domes gleamed and shone, sparkling like the blue skin of a fish. Somehow the light of the candles was reflected back onto the crowd of people filling the hall. Vitellix moved among them smoothly, nodding to those he knew, speaking a few words to some. Diana and Ila, quiet and unobtrusive in their dark gray cloaks, followed silently. Diana, in particular, was unusually quiet. Ila wondered if Diana was really following, but whenever Ila turned to look she was still there.
The hallway opened into a pillared arcade surrounding a garden. There were even more people, all dressed in fine, elegant clothes. Ila peeked around Vitellix, marveling at a cluster of women with their hair braided up into high, sweeping cones. Jewels and filaments of gold were woven into their coiffure, shining and winking in the light of hundreds of lamps and torches.
A constant, steady noise filled the air. Servants in plain yellow tunics moved through the crowd, bearing platters of sweetmeats, candies, iced drinks, cleverly cut fruit, cheese and small stuffed owls glazed with honey. Ila clung tighter to Vitellix, and the man reached back and squeezed her shoulder.
"Only a bit more of this, mouse. Then we'll be someplace quiet."
They turned right and walked the length of the arcade. Slowly, as they moved away from the entrance hallway and the main part of the garden, the press of the crowd eased. Finally, at the corner of the garden, where the arcade turned, Ila could breathe again. It was darker here, with only half as many racks of candles and lamps. They passed doors into the kitchens, where dozens of cooks and servants were hurrying about in clouds of smoke and steam. Men loitered outside the doors, chewing on hunks of meat, leather flagons in the crooks of their arms.
"Ah, Dionysos!" Vitellix saw a man he knew among a crowd of tradesmen and actors sitting on long marble benches at the side of the arcade. Here, out of sight of the main crowd at the front of the house, the "regular people," as Vitellix called them, were sitting and eating their supper. The Gaul stopped at one of the benches and clasped forearms with a scrawny little Latin.
"Vitellix, you dirty Gaul, it's been a time since I last saw you!"
"And I, you, runt." Vitellix hooked his thumbs into his belt, smiling down at the tiny old man. "Are you well?"
"Oh, I could be," Dionysos replied in a sour voice. It matched his shrunken old face perfectly. "If this fool of an emperor-all praise him, Lord and God!-would get about his divine business!"
Vitellix sighed in sympathy and motioned for the two women to step into the shadow of the nearest pillar. They had eaten supper from a hamper before entering the city. Ila was a little disappointed. Now that there were owls to eat, she wanted one. Vitellix had forbidden them to eat or drink at the party. Ila hid behind Diana's broad shoulders, looking about with interest. The scrawny man and Vitellix were catching up, nattering on about old friends and boring business.
The house itself was far more interesting. Every flat surface on wall and ceiling was covered with clever paintings or carvings in stone. Hundreds of servants were in motion, both in the arcade and in the garden, moving tables, carrying food, hauling off guests already overcome by an excess of drink. It was quite early, but Ila supposed some of the guests had started imbibing in advance. The crowd was even more interesting, filled with an astonishing array of costumes. Most of them were designed to display as much of the wearer's portable wealth or physical charms as possible. Only a few of the men were dressed in what Ila had heard was the "proper" style in the city: a tunic covered by a wrapped woolen cloak, worn draped over one arm and one shoulder.
As she watched the ebb and flow of people, Ila realized there were currents spiraling out from the somberly dressed men and women. Everyone else, she realized, gauged their worth in the slow, subtle dance of the party by their distance from these few men and women who did not need to draw attention to themselves.
"Diana?"
"Yes, mouse?"
"Do you know any of these people?"
"No, mouse. I'm not sure that I want to."
"Oh."
– |At least two hours passed while they waited in the arcade. The party got bigger and louder, with more people flowing out of the entranceway. The trees in the garden were hung with lanterns made from parchment and candles, casting a fairy light over the walkways and the ornamental pools. Servants continued to issue out in a steady stream from the kitchens, returning some time later with empty platters and amphorae. The tradesmen, having eaten quite well at their host's expense, drifted off to the rear entrance of the house, taking their leave.
Finally, only a small group of actors and other performers were left. Diana, who had finally begun to pay attention to the conversation and the faces around her, realized that these were the masters of the troupes in the city. The little bent man, Dionysos, had a whole menagerie of trained animals. Two of the other men specialized in importing wild beasts from the frontiers to be matched against men in the arena. The rest were actors, acrobats, jugglers, illusionists and men who supplied troops of singing boys to the festivities of the rich and the powerful. Vitellix sat among them in ease, apparently quite familiar with all of them and their business.
Diana swallowed, feeling an echo of the dreadful pain she had suffered in the morning. She reached down and took Ila's hand, clutching it tightly. The little mouse girl looked up and smiled, patting her hand. The moment passed, but it left her unsettled and wary. As before, the sensation grew on her that the world she saw was only a thin veneer over something else, something horrible.
"Gentlemen, welcome."
A man approached, silver hair neatly outlining a bald pate. He was dressed very conservatively in a toga and tunic of archaic cut and style but exceptionally fine fabric. Diana felt her skin creep, seeing his affable smile and open face. There were two other men with him: a blond youth with long wavy hair and a white-haired, older man in a very expensive silk toga over a sharply pressed linen tunic.
"I am Gaius Julius," said the personable man, bowing to the assembled actors and performers. "My most esteemed and noble patron, Gregorius Auricus, has charged me with selecting performers for a private theater performance in honor of the recent birth of the Emperor's son, Theodosius Augustus Atreus. This will bring you some joy, I am sure, for the recent dearth of performances in the theater, the amphitheater and the circus has been a burden to everyone."
The actors and performers laughed heartily at this, grinning in delight at the news.
Diana felt worse. Her mouth was dry. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. It seemed that she was looking out of herself and upon herself at the same time. Raising a hand to her face, she closed her eyes, blocking out the sound of the man's commanding, polished voice. The darkness lasted for only a moment, almost immediately replaced by a wavering, vague vision of Vitellix in front of her, amid the assembled actors, licinae and performers.
With a start, Diana realized that she was looking out of the eyes of one of the men standing behind Gaius Julius. She could make out, in this watery vision, his shoulder and the clasp on his cape. Indeed, she could see Vitellix, frowning, his eyes intent as he stared back at her.
The vision suddenly passed and she was leaning on a pillar, turned away from everyone else, her breath ragged. She was sweating furiously and her hands were trembling. The world, even the smooth surface of the column, seemed very distant. There was a commotion behind her. With an effort, she turned around, supporting herself on Ila's shoulders. "Mouse, what happened?"
Ila pointed. The silver-haired man was kneeling over the body of his blond companion, face stiff with concern. "That man suddenly fell over. Lord Gaius says he sometimes has fainting spells."
A pair of servants, summoned by the raised hand of the elderly gentleman, hurried over and helped Gaius Julius raise the body of his friend. Under the direction of the older man, they carried him away into one of the rooms in the house. Gaius Julius looked after them, his face stricken with worry, but then he turned back.
"My pardon, my friends. This is quite unexpected. Please, let us go down into the theater and you may show me your specialties."
Diana fell in behind Vitellix, who let the others go first. His fellow lanistae were quite eager to make the acquaintance of this Lord Gaius, crowding around him, their hands on his arms, their faces bright with cheer. In comparison, Vitellix did not seem pleased and kept looking behind him.
"Master, is something wrong?" Ila tugged at the Gaul's sleeve.
"No… nothing I can put my finger on, mouse." Vitellix smiled and put his arm around her shoulder, but he seemed distracted. "There was just something odd about that young man who fell down. But perhaps it was just the spell coming on him."
Diana followed her friends down to the end of the arcade and carefully descended a flight of steps. She was still very dizzy. The double vision had not returned, but her limbs and body were distant from her mind.
"Master Vitellix?" She stopped, clinging to the head of a carved, rearing lion standing in a curved alcove. "Wait a moment."
"Is something wrong with you, too?" Vitellix stepped to her and took her head in his hands, peering into her eyes. "You didn't eat anything here, did you?"
"No," Ila piped up, "we just sat and waited for you. Poor Diana's not been feeling well today."
Vitellix frowned at both of them. "You didn't tell me? Both of you will have to perform tonight!"
"I can ride the wire," Diana said, gathering herself and pushing away from the wall. Her face was suddenly grim and determined. "I felt dizzy when the boy fell down. Perhaps it was something in the air, a bad humor or vapor."
Vitellix stepped away, letting her descend the stairs. He gave Ila a hard look and then followed. He did not seem pleased. Ila scurried afterwards, hoping that he was not too mad at her. She had not thought to tell him, amid the excitement that they would have an audition, of Diana's troubled sleep.
The stairs cut down through the lower stories of the villa and into a small Odeon-style theater cut from the hillside. The flight ended on the top steps of the small, half-round space. Lord Gaius was already seated on the bottom row of steps, watching a pair of jugglers on the little stage. Diana looked around, measuring the distance from the stage floor to the top of the backdrop: barely twenty feet. Vitellix had noticed the small size as well.
"Hmm… not enough space for the wire."
"Or for the horses," Ila muttered in disappointment. Her face fell.
"No matter," Vitellix said, thinking furiously. "Let's just sit and see what the others have to show."
With that, he led them down the steps and into seats two rows behind Lord Gaius, who was watching with great appreciation as the jugglers flung an assortment of razor-sharp knives and burning-pitch torches back and forth at high speed. Diana felt much better as soon as she sat down, with solid granite under her. The warm presence of Vitellix and Ila on either side was comforting. She shuddered, realizing that the man whose eyes she had so strangely borrowed had been very cold. Ila took her hand again and they sat, watching the jugglers.
After almost two hours, with night deep in the sky, the last of the actors departed the stage. Only Lord Gaius and the three of them were left in the empty, nearly dark amphitheater. The Roman turned, smiling and seemingly tireless.
"You are quite patient, good Vitellix. I apologize for making you wait."
Diana's lip twitched. The man exuded such a sense of camaraderie and good nature that she surely wanted to like him, to sit at his table and drink and dine late into the night, discussing all manner of things. Sitting so close to him gave her the slow rolling creeps. He seemed so sinister behind the falsely genial mask.
What is making me feel this way? Why does he seem so familiar?
"I'm sorry, Lord Gaius, I hadn't realized we had met." Vitellix seemed a little flustered that the Roman patrician knew his name. The man waved a hand negligently in the air.
"Oh, we've not met personally," he said, smiling again, this time at Diana and Ila. "But I have many men out and about, seeing those troupes and acts that are performing. You were most recently at Narni, I believe, with some stage tumbling and some… unexpected wire work."
Now Lord Gaius smiled directly at Diana and she felt a chill shock, as if she had plunged her face into icy water. The man looked at her in such a raw way that she could almost feel his desire like a physical touch. With great effort she kept her face calm and smiled slightly, meeting his eyes.
That brought a second shock, for there was something strange about them. Though surrounded by a patchwork of laugh lines and wrinkles, they seemed cold and flat, like the many-lidded eyes of a reptile. Then he looked away, back to Vitellix.
"My agents say that your troupe is part of a very ancient and well-respected temple, the Ludus Solis. Is this true?"
Vitellix nodded slowly, though to Diana's eye he became even more guarded than before. The Roman did not seem to notice the change.
"Delightful! I am both honored and pleased, then, to make your acquaintance. I have not had the pleasure, despite being in Gaul more than once, to observe your temple's ancient rites."
Vitellix cleared his throat, looking sideways at the Roman.
"Lord Gaius, our temple is no longer so well respected. Indeed, only our small band is left of the ancient cult. Our people are much reduced since the conquest of Gaul. Yet we strive to keep the traditions alive in this modern time."
Gaius Julius nodded, his face serious. "I understand, Vitellix," he said, touching the Gaul's arm lightly. "Many good and worthwhile things have fallen by the wayside. It seems many worthy traditions have been lost. Still, there must be hope for your temple if it has such skilled and beautiful acolytes."
Vitellix did not look aside at Diana, keeping his eyes on the Roman. "Is there some hope that we may find a place in your agenda for these games, then? You have not seen us perform-this theater is too small for our skills."
Gaius Julius made a dismissive gesture, indicating the seats and the backdrop and the villa with an airy wave. "This is no proper venue for the capabilities of your troupe, friend Vitellix! You need something grander, I know, with the proper machinery and some space in which to show your skill." Gaius smiled at Ila. "You cannot ride a horse in this place, young mistress! No, the likes of the Flavian are for your accomplishments."
Diana felt Ila begin to smile and then swallow her reaction, making a terrible grimace. She felt the same way. It would be joyful indeed to show her skill, to fly in tandem with Dummonus high above a cheering crowd. The Flavian sat at the heart of Rome, the most magnificent amphitheater in the Empire. What performer did not dream of appearing there? It would certainly fill Vitellix's purse with coin.
"We would be honored and embarrassed by your generosity, Lord Gaius, if you would consider us for a role in your production." Vitellix bowed his head, graciously, as should a client to a noble patron. Gaius Julius stood, holding out his hands.
"Dear Vitellix, I have always wanted to see the Ludus Solis perform. It honors me that you would choose my small production for such a sacred act." He bowed as well, though not so deeply as had Vitellix. "One of my men will come to your camp tomorrow with a contract."
Vitellix bowed again, reclaimed his hands and started up the stairs. Ila was hard on his heels, her cloak pulled tight around her. Diana felt like running swiftly up the steep marble steps herself, but she refrained and followed at a normal pace.
"Lady?"
Diana did not intend to turn, but Gaius Julius caught her cloak in such a way, as she stepped up, that the cloth fell away from her head and shoulder. She turned, her face impassive, and looked down upon him. Gaius had stepped up as well, catching both hems of her cloak in his hands. He looked upon her with delight, the corners of his mouth turning up.
"You are as beautiful as they said. Would you stay a little while with me?"
"I am sorry, Lord Gaius," she said in a toneless voice, "I must go."
One eyelid flickered as he digested her refusal. Diana could feel the others watching from above. Vitellix's anger seemed palpable in the air, interwoven with the sharpness of Ila's fear. Gaius Julius smiled again.
"My dear, there is no reason to hurry. The night is still half formed, an infant! It would please me and gain much for your temple." He took her hand in his and she quailed inwardly. He was cold, too, like a stone. "Tarry a little and I will show some of the wonders of this house."
"I will not," she said, her voice rising minutely. She turned her hand from his grip with an easy motion. A flicker of anger crossed his face and he grabbed at her wrist. Without thinking, she slipped from his grasping hand and hooked his thumb with her fist, turning it over in one swift motion. Gaius Julius hissed in pain and found himself on his knees, arm bent behind his back. Diana pressed for a moment until he gasped aloud, then let go.
"My apologies, Lord Gaius, I almost slipped. Thank you for your hospitality."
Diana turned and strode up the steps, anger boiling in her like water in a steam kettle. When she came abreast of Vitellix and Ila, they were watching her with shocked eyes.
"Let's go, lass." Vitellix pushed her ahead of him and they left the theater at a quick walk. "Ay, so much for that soft life we wanted to lead, reaping the benefits of the heir's birthday celebration!"
"We'd not like being reaped ourselves," Ila whispered in a serious voice. "He was a bad man."
"Yes," said Vitellix, looking over his back as they entered the arcade. "I hope he is not too angry."
– |Gaius Julius picked himself up. He brushed some dust from his toga and then looked around. The theater was silent and dark, quite deserted. He sighed in relief. It had been a close business to remember to express pain. With interest he flexed his fingers. He had felt nothing of the woman's crushing grip.
Well, well, well… Alexandros was right.
"Oh, a fine thing that was," he said, shaking his head. "Just charge in like a bull in heat… that works wonders." He sighed and drew the hood of the toga up over his head. Just the sight of her, tall and slim, self-contained and so utterly composed had fired desire in him. Before that moment, he had forgotten the flesh and its pleasures. Even his dalliance with Alexandros had been calculated. Gaius found himself at the top of the stairs, his feet urging him to hurry after her. He began to grin, thinking of the swift motion of the girl's hand. "I shouldn't want to face that one with…"
He paused, one hand on the arch of the doorway, his face transfixed with an inner vision. "…a blade in her hand."
A delicious twist to the game had sprung to mind, full formed and vigorous with a shock of short red-gold hair and burning gray eyes. With it, he felt a tremendous giddy rush of delight, better than conquering any woman or nation.
"O you blessed gods, you swift Huntress and mighty Apollo! Did you see her move? Her speed! These informants are too cautious, I think. I will reward that one, though. He shall have a fine seat in the circus and coin in plenty to spend!"
With that, humming a tune he had learned from one of Gregorius' musicians, the old Roman made his way up the steps, thinking of his plans for the coming funeral games and celebrations. He had seen many interesting things tonight and the procession of acts, of intervals, of men and women in his great show was beginning to come clear. In the garden, he took a moment to smooth his tunic and his hair. It would not do to look like he had tried to tumble a maid in the bullrushes.
I have to see her again, he mused to himself, and I will. But not in such romantic settings as these.
– |The chariot ride was much quieter this time and Vitellix drove with care, avoiding the delivery wagons crowding the streets after dark. Diana stood at his side, saying nothing, holding the rail with one hand and Ila with the other. After a time, they left the walls through the Tiburtina gate and were passing through the countryside surrounding the city.
"Vitellix? May I ask you a question?"
Diana's voice was barely audible over the rattle of iron-rimmed wheels on the hard surface of the road. The Gaul slowed the chariot, clucking at the horses. They were still at least a mile from their camp, rolling amid acres of vineyards and wheat fields bounded by stone walls.
"Of course." Diana heard the tension in his voice and softened the words she used.
"What god do we serve with these performances? I must be quite dense, not to have realized it before, but you are a priest, aren't you?"
Vitellix laughed and seemed to relax.
"I am," he said ruefully. "A high priest, even, of a forgotten and neglected cult. I am frankly surprised that this Lord Gaius knew us at all. His agents must be well informed! But to your question-we serve Lugh the Many-Handed, the Lord of the Sun and Creation and Song. Ours was once, as the man averred, a rich and powerful temple in Narbonensis. The sacred games of the sun, the 'ludus solis,' were attended by thousands. No more… in the time of the Conquest there were over a thousand priests. Now there are just the four of us."
"And me!" Ila growled, hitting Vitellix with her fist. "And Diana! Girls can serve the Many-Handed too!"
"Yes." Vitellix laughed. "In the old days, women were not allowed in the ranks of the priests, but that has changed. Ila's mother was the first, but she died of the cough, and now there are the two of you. In truth, I think the god delights in all expressions of art. Ours is just harder to express than most."
"Thank you," said Diana, hugging Ila and Vitellix. "I feel better now, refusing that man's advances. The god will protect us if we serve him well."
"I suppose…" Vitellix's face was indistinct in the darkness, but Diana thought that he was worried. "We still need to eat and feed the horses, though."
"I have cost us a place in these games." Diana bowed her head. "I am sorry."
"That was too high a price to pay," Vitellix said, flipping the reins and getting the horses going again. "Tomorrow I will go into the city again and see if I can find another patron, one less, ah, devoted to the arts."