Land of the Gods Read online

  Aphrodisius’s face appeared in the sacred water next to mine and I got up hastily so my reflection wouldn’t be in the pool when the curse entered it. Aphrodisius chucked in the curse without so much as a bow or a prayer. Aphrodisius was a fool to mess about with his master, and even more of a fool to mess about with the gods.

  Well, he paid for it.

  Balbus was fuming by the time we got back. He walloped us both hard, and then we left Sul’s Spring along another fine Roman road.

  Aphrodisius and I trudged along behind the wagon for four days. At one point we took a turning east, but mostly we just walked and walked and walked. Sometimes we passed other traffic: wagons, and travellers on horseback or on foot. Most of the travellers were Celts – Belgae or Atrobates, they must have been – but lots of them had shaved their moustaches and cut their hair. They looked sleek and very well fed. I’d noticed that the fields were ploughed deeply even in the heaviest soil. The Romans must have brought in some new sort of plough. They were clever, those Romans.

  On the morning of the fourth day, Balbus told me to put my toga on again. It was lucky I’m right-handed, because once you’d got your toga on you couldn’t really use your left hand.

  We walked on, and about mid-morning the traffic began to get heavier, and a little while later we saw a procession coming along. It was led by horn players and sour-sounding flutes, and when we got level with them, we could see that they had a dead man on a litter. There was a whole crowd of people behind who were wailing and screaming. It was really spooky and horrible, and my flesh was still creeping ten minutes later when we came to a big mound and a ditch. Aphrodisius said we’d come to a thing called a town.

  The town was called Calleva Atrebatum, and it was... how can I describe it? It was incredible, and amazing, and gob-smacking, and out of this world, and – and I didn’t even think about closing my mouth for ages. There were dozens of buildings, and they weren’t round stone huts with mud to fill in the gaps, either. These buildings had straight, smooth walls, and roofs covered in squares of pottery. It was – it was just incredible. Some of those buildings had three rows of windows, as if the rooms inside were stacked up on top of one another. I was so utterly gob-smacked that I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Romans flying up to those top windows.

  I prayed like mad to Lug and Sul, I can tell you.

  We parked the wagon, and then Balbus told me to take my toga off again so I folded it up and put it over my shoulder and tied it on with my belt, and then we got down to work. We carried some bales of cloth down a road – they had proper roads, even inside the town – and then left past a cattle pen.

  And there was the house of the gods.

  Chapter Six

  It scared me, to tell you the truth. I mean, I’m really brave, but it was the biggest man-made thing I’d ever seen, and the tallest man-made thing I’d ever seen. It ran the whole length of the road, and in the middle was a square opening, held up on pillars.

  I would much rather have stayed outside, but Balbus chivvied us through the opening and into a square surrounded by buildings – and then I realised it couldn’t be the house of the gods after all, because it was full of people jostling each other and buying things. We started setting out our wares on an empty stall. Aphrodisius did, anyway. My eyes were practically falling off their stalks and it was as much as I could do to remember to breathe from time to time. The most unnerving thing was that most of the people in the place were British. Why had the Romans let so many Celts into the town? And why weren’t they all killing each other?

  Balbus gave me a clip round the ear to wake me up, but just then a man came out from the arched doorway of the tallest building of all, and he was so... so... so splendid that I couldn’t have taken my eyes off him for anything. He was a soldier, but he was even bigger and shinier than the other Roman soldiers I’d seen. He wore gleaming armour. He held a staff in his hand, and had tall plumes on his helmet.

  Aphrodisius noticed him at the same time as I did. Aphrodisius gave him an appalled look, squeaked, and dived behind the table. Balbus was busy assuring a customer that she’d not find finer cloth if she travelled all the way to Carthage, so he didn’t notice the soldier.

  But the shiny man noticed Balbus. He stopped, frowned, and then swung round towards us, his bronze armour flashing. It was too late to throw myself under the table with Aphrodisius so I made myself as small as I could and I prayed some more to Sul and Lug.

  ‘Balbus!’

  Balbus’s head jerked round at the soldier’s voice and his sales talk died in his mouth. He was struck with such horror that he froze for a moment, but then he recovered himself and spread his face with a smile of buttery welcome.

  ‘Noble Centurion,’ he said, bowing low. ‘Your worship, Sabidus Maximus. I thought you would be with the valiant Second Legion in Isca Silurum. What a surprise and pleasure.’

  The centurion gave half a grim smile.

  ‘A surprise, anyway,’ he said. ‘It’s very convenient.’

  Balbus blinked rapidly, trying to work that out.

  ‘You need cloth?’ he hazarded. ‘I have some fine wool here. You won’t find finer cloth if you were to go all the way to –’

  The centurion put his hand on the sheath of his broad-bladed dagger, and Balbus’s voice died away in a gulp.

  ‘Ah, Balbus, but I’ve done business with you before, don’t forget,’ said Sabidus Maximus, quietly. ‘I bought some rations for my men from you. Do you remember?’

  Balbus’s bulging eyes were fixed on Sabidus’s hand, which was still resting on the hilt of his dagger. Balbus had to swallow before he could speak.

  ‘Finest grain,’ he said. But his voice had a pleading edge to it. ‘Best quality –’

  ‘– sand,’ said the centurion, crushingly. ‘Ten sacks of grain, and ten sacks of sand.’

  Balbus raised his hands to the sky.

  ‘I am innocent!’ he cried. ‘By all the gods I swear it!’

  I stepped back hastily in case Balbus was struck by lightning for telling a lie, but Aphrodisius was scuttling away under the cover of the table, and I accidentally stood on his hand.

  The centurion ignored Aphrodisius’s howl. He was looking faintly bored. Balbus tried again.

  ‘Someone must have tampered with it after I sold it to you,’ he said. ‘I call upon all the gods, upon the emperor himself, to judge me!’

  Why Balbus wasn’t struck down then I don’t know. Perhaps the Roman emperor-god happened to be busy doing other things, or perhaps he didn’t want to soil his hands on Balbus, or perhaps he knew what was going to happen next.

  ‘Can’t quite manage the emperor,’ said the centurion, drily. ‘But the chief magistrate’s in the basilica. We’ll lay the matter before him, I think.’

  Balbus looked at the centurion’s dagger, and his face went as white as chalk. Then he drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and allowed the centurion to usher him into the very tallest and most god-like building of all.

  And as he was passing me, Balbus reached out a large hand and took me with him, too.

  Chapter Seven

  The basilica was completely unbelievable. Amazing.

  Remember, the only building I’d ever been in was a round hut made of piled-up stones, and this place... well, it was massive, for a start. I reckon it must have been eighty paces long and twenty across, and it was nearly as high as it was wide. It had two great lines of columns down the middle, all decorated with leafy carving. It had...

  ... But it would take forever to describe the panels of veined stone, and the bright colours, and the great rafters; it was so gob-smacking I really did wonder if this might be the house of the gods.

  At one end of the place, on a great chair, was a man in a purple-bordered toga just like mine. Aphrodisius had said that my sort of toga was for children, but this man wasn’t young. On his face were carved deep, sour lines, and practically all the hair he had was sprouting from his nostrils.

  H
e might have been bald, but he must have been really important because even the centurion bowed. Balbus almost banged his nose on the floor.

  Well, it was obvious from the start that Balbus was going to be found guilty. I mean, Sabidus Maximus was a centurion and Balbus was a merchant: no contest. The magistrate (the man in the chair was apparently the magistrate) did listen to both of them, but as he’d once bought some cloth from Balbus that’d turned out to be moth-eaten, Balbus had no chance.

  ‘Guilty,’ said the magistrate, with some satisfaction. ‘Will you pay the fine, Balbus, or will you be sold into slavery?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll pay, Tammonius Vitalis, I’ll pay,’ said Balbus, hastily. ‘I’ll sell one of my own slaves to raise the money.’

  ‘Won’t be enough,’ snapped Tammonius. ‘Officer of the court!’

  ‘Two slaves,’ Balbus amended, in a hurry. ‘This one here, look,’ he said, dragging me forward from where I was pretending to be an innocent bystander. ‘He’s strong, good-looking, intelligent. He’ll fetch a good price. I was planning to take him to Rome, but in the present circumstances – I can see how appearances have conspired against me – I surrender him to the court.’

  The magistrate peered at me, and my heart started beating fast. Sold? Now? Who would buy me? And what for?

  Tammonius turned to scowl at Balbus.

  ‘He’s not a slave,’ he said. ‘He has Nundina’s charm round his neck.’

  I hadn’t known my gold pendant, which I’d forgotten to take off with my toga, was a charm. I whispered a prayer to Nundina, whoever she was: Please don’t let them sell me to the circus!

  Balbus tried to laugh.

  ‘I am a kind master,’ he said. ‘I was afraid the boy would... would come to some harm. So I dressed him as a Roman.’

  Tammonius Vitalis raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It wasn’t to avoid paying tax on him, then?’

  ‘No! By all the gods I swear it!’ said Balbus.

  I suppose he thought he was safe from lightning because of the tiled roof. The magistrate regarded him beadily.

  ‘If the boy has Nundina’s charm, then he has her protection,’ he said. ‘And if I’m not mistaken that’s a sacred toga praetexta the boy’s got over his shoulder, and that also gives him rights.’ He smoothed down his own toga over his belly and looked smug. ‘The judgement of the court,’ he announced, ‘is that by dressing this boy as a Roman you have made him a Roman. He is free, and cannot be sold to pay your fine.’

  Free? I thought. I was too surprised to believe it. Balbus believed it. He sagged.

  ‘I have a wagon-load of cloth that could be sold,’ he said glumly. Tammonius nodded. ‘Very well. Officer of the court!’

  So Balbus stomped off with the officer of the court. I didn’t know what to do. It was great being free, except that I was a hundred miles from home, if home hadn’t been destroyed by that column of Roman soldiers. And even if it was still there, well, it hadn’t been much of a home, anyway. In any case, I had no work and no food and I didn’t know the way. What could I do?

  Chapter Eight

  Tammonius saw me standing there and waved an irritable finger at me.

  ‘Centurion!’ he snapped. ‘Sabidus Maximus!’

  The centurion stopped halfway to the door.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘The boy.’

  The centurion looked blank.

  ‘The boy, sir?’

  ‘You heard me,’ said Tammonius, tetchily. ‘I don’t want him hanging about. He gawps. Take him away at once.’

  The centurion took a step forward and then stopped.

  ‘Take him away where, sir?’

  Tammonius made a shooing motion.

  ‘I don’t know!’ he exclaimed. ‘He came with you, didn’t he? He’s your responsibility. Where are you posted?’

  The centurion’s face settled into a deeply grim expression.

  ‘Isca Silurum, sir,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Then take him there. Anywhere, as long as I’m not tripping over him. Now be off with both of you!’

  The centurion hesitated, but then he bowed and strode off, and I followed him as fast as I could. Everyone in the market square made haste to get out of the centurion’s way. I was keeping up with him quite well, but then when I was nearly at the gateway Aphrodisius popped up from nowhere and grabbed me.

  ‘What happened?’ he demanded.

  I hadn’t time to break it to him gently.

  ‘Balbus was found guilty and you and the wagon are to be sold to pay his fine.’

  Aphrodisius went so pale that all his dirt showed up quite distinctly.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ he wailed.

  ‘Run away,’ I suggested. He shuddered and shook his head.

  ‘They’d hunt me down,’ he whimpered. ‘But then if I stay they’ll sell me to the mines – or to the circus! What can I do? What can I do?’

  My centurion was passing through the gate and if I stopped any longer I was going to lose him altogether.

  ‘Pray,’ I said to Aphrodisius, and shook him off.

  I plunged through the gate, looked both ways, and ran after the plumes on the centurion’s helmet. He walked fast, without looking back, and I knew he’d have been glad to lose me. But, you see, he was my only chance of dinner, and I was extremely hungry.

  I bobbed along at the centurion’s elbow for quite a time. He ignored me, but that was a lot better than cursing me or hitting me with his stick, so I was quite encouraged.

  He turned a corner into yet another flint-guttered road and then he glanced sideways, sighed, and came to a halt.

  ‘You’re still here,’ he said, resignedly.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I said, bowing. ‘At your service, Centurion.’

  He sighed again.

  ‘But I don’t want any service,’ he said. ‘I have plenty of slaves and legionaries in my service already. I can’t take on a boy who’s going to need educating.’

  I hastened to reassure him.

  ‘Oh, there’s no need to worry about that, sir,’ I said. ‘I’m perfectly content to be ignorant.’

  He smiled wryly, but shook his head.

  ‘And I’m strong, sir,’ I went on. ‘And very clever. And remarkably handsome.’

  And very, very hungry.

  ‘Why,’ I went on, persuasively, ‘anyone would be glad to have a boy like me around, sir.’

  The centurion shook his head sadly.

  ‘If only that were true,’ he said. ‘Well, come along. But be on your best behaviour because I’m going to introduce you to a lady.’

  Actually, I was on my best behaviour already. I went along with him and hoped that the lady would give me some dinner.

  The houses along this road were much smaller than the place where the magistrate had been, but they were still palaces compared with home. There was one building that looked a bit like a British house, but that turned out to have pigs in it.

  Sabidus Maximus led me to a low house shaped like three sides of a square. Everything about it was ever so clean, and there was a girl of about my own age sitting on the doorstep. Her face lit up when she saw Sabidus, but she hardly deigned to glance at me.

  ‘Is your mother home, Claudia?’ asked Sabidus.

  ‘Yes, Uncle.’

  ‘Then run and tell her I’m here.’

  The girl came back accompanied by a dark-haired woman with an anxious face. Sabidus introduced me. Sort of.

  ‘Flavia Victorina,’ he said. ‘This is... er...’

  ‘Lucan,’ I said helpfully. I’d begun to think no one would ever ask.

  ‘Lucan,’ said Sabidus. ‘He was a slave, but he’s just been freed. And Tammonius Vitalis, bless him,’ he went on, grimly, ‘has given the boy into my care.’

  ‘Your care?’ said Flavia, blankly.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Sabidus. ‘The thing is, I don’t know what to do with him. I can hardly take him back to the barracks with me.’

  Flavia regarded me, and
I, feeling sure I would soon faint with hunger, looked as attractive and deserving as I could.

  ‘I don’t know what Lepidus will make of it,’ said Flavia, at last. ‘Does the boy speak Latin?’

  I’m a talented actor, so it was easy for me to look modest.

  ‘A little, madam,’ I said, smiling winningly.

  Flavia looked even more doubtful.

  ‘He has a barbarous accent,’ she said. ‘And he’s very dirty.’

  That was unfair, because I wasn’t very dirty at all. I was just normally dirty. I mean, it was spring, so what did she expect? I washed quite often in summer, if we had an exceptionally warm day. And I had time.

  ‘I suppose I’d better take him to the baths this afternoon,’ said Sabidus, gloomily. ‘When he’s clean he may seem like a gift from the gods, Flavia Victorina.’

  Flavia Victorina nodded, but suddenly looked very sad.

  Chapter Nine

  We Britons aren’t savages – I mean, we always put new straw down on the ground before we sit down to eat – but honestly, those Romans were something else. They ate lying on their sides on benches, for a start. It was ever so uncomfortable. Their food was weird, too. I mean, they were obviously stinking rich – you should have seen their pottery bowls and glasses – but they ate leaves. I was so hungry I would have eaten anything, but the leaves were horrible.

  If I was rich I’d have a pig killed every day, not stuff myself with leaves.

  The girl Claudia didn’t say much, but she made faces at me when no one was looking. I ignored her. Well, you don’t bite the hand that feeds you, do you? And although the food was revolting it was better than starving. That house was like a dream. It had coloured walls, and swirls on the floor made of little squares of stone, and the whole place was warm, even though there was no fire. I didn’t know anything about Roman gods – except for Nundina, bless her – but the power in that place was so strong it practically made my hair stand up on end.