The Gate of Days - Book of Time 2

by Guillaume Prevost

  Sam retrieved the museum coin from the stone’s cavity and bent over his cousin.

  “Are you okay, Lily?”

  “The skull,” she muttered, wiping her mouth.

  “Its over. We did it!”

  “Did what?”

  “We escaped.”

  “Have you taken up Latin, Sammy?”

  “What?”

  “You re speaking Latin — and so am I.”

  “Oh!”

  “Terrific, this instant translation thing,” she added with a weak smile. “If only I had it with my teacher …”

  She fell silent and listened. Muffled voices could be heard from the underground area stretching off into the darkness, voices that seemed to be coming closer.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, Sam. It’s about our present.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The police are looking for you.”

  “The police?”

  “Yes, because of the burglary at the Sainte-Mary Museum. They found your cell phone in the room where the theft happened.”

  His cell! He’d completely forgotten about it!

  “They checked the numbers and showed up at Grandma’s around noon. You’d already left, and they said they were going to Barenboim Street to find you. Mom and I had just come back from the water park and I rushed over to warn you. But when I tried to catch you —” She looked around at the ancient machinery.

  “When they find out the bookstore has been robbed too, there’s going to be fireworks,” Sam said.

  “So that’s why all those books were on the floor!”

  “It was probably the Arkeos man — the guy with the tattoo,” Sam explained. “I think he’s looking for something, the black notebook, maybe, or the Book of Time. On the Internet I found this company called Arkeos that sells antiquities —”

  “Shhh!” hissed Lily. “They’re coming!”

  The conversation from the underground was becoming clearer.

  “It’s the oldest part of the complex, Corvus. We really ought to think about closing it. The leaks are getting worse and —”

  “What are you talking about?” thundered a second voice. “It’s the middle of summer, and were swamped with customers! I need all of our facilities at full power! I want you to fix it, and fast!”

  “They’re nearly here,” whispered Lily. “What should we do?”

  Sam had her stand up and brush herself off. A yellowish glow appeared in the underground hallway, getting ever brighter.

  “I’m not going to let some little leak keep me from opening, Julius. And I don’t pay you to tell me that you can’t set things right. What do I …”

  The two men entered the machinery room. Seeing Sam and Lily, they stopped dead.

  “What are you doing here?” screamed the one who was holding the lamp, a chubby bald man wearing a toga.

  “We got lost —” Sam began.

  “Since when do slaves have the right to wander around underground? And where’s your uniform?”

  “Er … I forgot it,” Sam said.

  “What you mean, you forgot it?” He raised the stick in his right hand and gave Sam a sharp crack on the legs. “The baths are about to open and you aren’t at your stations? What are your names?”

  Lily was quicker than her cousin. “Samus and Lilia,” she answered.

  “That doesn’t ring a bell,” said the bald man, waving his stick. “Did Petrus buy you for the end of the season?”

  “Yes, it was Petrus,” she said coolly.

  “Well, I hope you didn’t cost me too much, you filthy little lazybones. One really can’t find a slave worthy of the name anymore! All right, Julius, I’ll give you half an hour to get the waterwheel working again. As for you two —” He gave Sam another blow with the stick. “Go to your work, and hop to it!”

  Still spewing abuse, Corvus marched them through the underground passage to a stone stairway leading to the open air.

  “My God,” whispered Lily as they emerged.

  They were in a huge rectangular quad bordered by columned galleries and stone buildings. Trimmed green grass grew in the open central area. In the distance, a mountain with a few planted fields on its lower slopes loomed above the rooftops. The sun wasn’t high yet, but it was already pleasantly warm. Servants in simple tunics bustled about, their arms loaded with towels, fruit, and amphoras. Corvus directed Sam and Lily to a room on the right.

  “Hustle over to the laundry to change, then go to your stations right away. Petrus should be here any minute. Until then, I’ll have my eye on you, believe me!”

  He waved the stick over his head for emphasis, and they had no choice but to obey.

  “What you think we should do?” asked Lily quietly as they walked toward the laundry.

  “We’ve absolutely got to find some coins,” answered Sam, also quietly. “The stone statue works, so that means there’s at least one coin somewhere nearby. Where do you think we are?”

  “At a Roman bath. They’re like public swimming pools, and they were all over the Roman Empire. People would go there to get clean and do business.”

  A cheerful-looking matron greeted them with a broad smile. “So, children, are you new here?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Sam. “Petrus just bought us.”

  “So much the better, were shorthanded these days. You’ll be needing something clean to wear, I suppose?”

  She took two tunics from the piles lining the walls and held them out to the children.

  “These should fit you all right. But you’d better hurry, we’ll be opening soon. Were you told what you were supposed to do?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Ah! And of course that lazy slug Petrus isn’t here yet!” To Lily, she said, “Go to the women’s changing room at the end of the palaestra and ask for Alvina.” To Sam: “As for you, the men’s locker room is right next door. Old Trimalchion will fill you in.”

  They came out wearing their new uniforms, wondering what their next move should be.

  “Suppose we left right away?” suggested Lily.

  “No, we have to get more coins! Besides, the guy fixing the waterwheel must still be down there with the stone. Lets wait until he —”

  Just then, a sharp crack echoed off the porticos marble panels. “By Jupiter!” screamed Corvus, rapping on the ground. “Are you still dillydallying around here? Get to work!”

  If Sam had been asked what he planned to be when he grew up — two thousand years earlier, in this case — he would have answered unhesitatingly, “Anything except a slave in the Roman baths!” At first glance, it looked like a job that anybody could do, but it turned out to be exhausting in practice. Trimalchion, an old black slave with two missing fingers, explained the basics of the work, and Sam was quite literally tossed into the bathwater.

  He was first assigned to the locker room, where the many clients came to change. He took their clothes, put them in lockers, and gave back towels in exchange — an easy job. But when Corvus passed by, he decided that a strapping young fellow like Sam should be employed doing something more energetic. So Corvus sent him to the caldarium, or hot room, a kind of early sauna. Sam’s job was to keep the very hot pool of water clean by scrubbing it with a rough mop. As he scoured the basin, Sam realized that the mosaic on the bottom showed a beautiful white lyre held by a half-naked couple. There was nothing astonishing about that, except that the instrument was shaped like two horns containing a circle! Here was the Arkeos symbol at the bottom of a pool in the Roman Empire!

  Shaken by his discovery, Sam put down his mop and went to question Trimalchion.

  “Excuse me, but do you know who designed the mosaic in the pool?”

  “You mean the man and the woman with the lyre? It was redone a few years ago by a local man named Octavius. Why? Is there a broken tile?”

  “No, I just think its beautiful. Are there any others like it in the baths?”

  Trimalchion thought for a moment. “Mosaics li
ke that, no. It must be the only one. Now that I think of it, I think the idea actually came from one of Octavius’s workers — a peculiar fellow who just disappeared one day without collecting his pay. But the design was already laid out and the master of the baths seemed to like it, so … That kind of lyre is supposed to bring happiness and prosperity — not that I’d know anything about that!” Then he added quietly: “You better get back to work. Here comes Corvus.”

  Realizing that Sam had abandoned his post, Corvus first threatened him with his stick, then as punishment gave him a job that Sam couldn’t have imagined in his worst nightmares. For half an hour he walked around the palaestra carrying a pot, and men relieved themselves into it between wrestling or bowling matches. Sam then had to dump the urine into a large vat off to one side, where laundry workers used its contents to wash clothes. Washing clothes in urine — frankly, it was enough to make you puke.

  Sam had become a traveling toilet.

  After a while the temptation to explore became too strong, and he sneaked off to the stairway that led underground. The wooden wheel was turning again and squeaking like an old door, drawing water up from the vat and filling a tank that in turn supplied the baths. The fact that the wheel was turning must mean that the worker responsible for fixing it had finished his job.

  But when Sam reached the bottom of the staircase, he made a painful discovery: A locked and rusty gate barred the way underground. He couldn’t get to the stone statue!

  “You again!” screamed Corvus when he saw Sam emerge. “What are you doing, snooping around down there?”

  This time, he hit Sam twice across the back and sent him directly to the furnace room on the lower level, reputedly the worst place in the baths. There Sam met two gigantic black slaves, their skin gleaming with sweat, who were heaving logs onto big fires. Above the fires, huge cauldrons filled with boiling water produced the steam that heated the caldarium, carried there by a system of ducts. The furnace room itself was as hot as seven devils.

  “Work him until he drops!” Corvus instructed the two slaves. “This boy needs to learn who his master is!”

  The two men stepped aside for a moment to let Sam pick up his first log, but as soon as Corvus’s back was turned, they took it out of his hands.

  “The old crow doesn’t know what he’s thinking anymore,” sighed one, mopping his brow. “You won’t last long in this inferno. Go sit over there instead.”

  Delighted by his good luck, Sam was about to sit on a twisted stool when the ground suddenly began to shake underfoot. Without quite knowing how it happened, he found himself sprawled on his back.

  The two slaves burst out laughing. “Hah! You didn’t expect that, did you, boy? Sometimes the earth gets angry around here. You have to know how to stay on your feet!”

  But at the very next moment, an even stronger tremor sent them crashing into each other. White dust poured down from the ceiling and several burning logs rolled out of the fire. Water sloshed furiously against the edges of the huge vat.

  “Well, that was something!” said the taller of the two as he straightened up. “That time, it really moved!”

  “If it happens again, maybe we better put the furnace out to avoid a fire,” remarked the other one. “When this kind of thing starts …”

  They checked for damage to the furnace, then went up to get their orders from Corvus. Sam followed. At the bathers’ level, people seemed alarmed. Towels wrapped around their waists, they were pouring out of the buildings to see what was happening. Statues had toppled over and a few tiles had fallen from the roofs, but the matter of greatest concern was a very deep, dull rumbling. A few dozen customers had gathered in the middle of the palaestra to point at something in the distance: a wisp of black smoke rising from the top of the mountain.

  Sam was startled when a cool hand slipped into his. It was Lily, whom he hadn’t heard coming.

  “Sam! I’ve been looking for you for the last quarter of an hour, and I’ve got bad news. Do you know the name of that mountain?

  “No.”

  “It’s Vesuvius, the volcano! Were in Pompeii, Sammy — Pompeii!”

  11 August 4, 79 A.D. Ten A.M.

  “Its on fire!” a woman screamed. “The mountain’s on fire!” Bathers and slaves gathered around her, looking frightened.

  Corvus tried to reassure them. “No, no, that’s just a big dark cloud on the mountaintop. Come back to the baths, Citizen Flavia, there’s nothing to fear.”

  “Nothing to fear?” asked a man who had been playing ball in the palaestra. “This tile nearly knocked me out!” He brandished the tile as if Corvus himself had thrown it.

  “We know there have been tremors these last few days, Marius, but they’re not dangerous. Our establishment is well designed and —”

  “What about the earthquake seventeen years ago?” snapped another man. “Wasn’t that dangerous? Half the city was destroyed, and the Stabian Baths were badly damaged, as I recall.”

  At those words, large beads of sweat appeared on Corvus’s bald head.

  “That was different,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “We’ve reinforced the walls since then, and strengthened the pools.”

  He switched to a falsely playful tone. “Come, my friends. A cup of our best wine to the first people who go back to the caldarium — on the house!” To the slaves, he snapped: “And you, get back to work and take care of our guests!”

  A murmur of uncertainty went through the customers. The sun was getting hot and the sky was a limpid blue; it looked like the start of a beautiful day. There was that unusual smoke, of course, but how could a catastrophe ever happen in such fine weather?

  Then Lily ran to the center of the group. “If you don’t leave town right away,” she said firmly, “you’re all going to die!”

  Fast as a striking snake, Corvus gave her a resounding slap. It sent Lily tumbling to the feet of the woman called Flavia. “You filthy little liar!” he screamed. “I promise, you’re going to —”

  But the threat was quickly drowned out by an enormous explosion: GGRRRBBBRRRAAAOUMMMM! With unimaginable power, the top of Mount Vesuvius blew off, shooting gigantic chunks of rock into the air. There was a moment of astonishment as they watched extraordinary whistling fireballs cut across the sky and land in the distance.

  “The mountain is spilling its guts!”

  “The girls right, were all going to die!”

  “Wait, friends! Vesuvius is far away! Enjoy the spectacle,” Corvus urged them. “You can return to the baths afterward.”

  But most of the visitors were in no mood for relaxation.

  “Open the locker rooms, Corvus! We want our clothes!”

  “Yes, our clothes!” chorused several voices.

  “In that case . . he said with resignation. Corvus gave the key ring to old Trimalchion, whom most of the bathers followed to retrieve their things.

  One of the slaves who had been stoking the furnace spoke up. “Corvus, if the earth continues to rage, you should let us go to our families.”

  “What?” shouted the master of the baths, his scalp turning purple. “Since when do slaves decide what they should or shouldn’t do?”

  “If we stay here, we will all die!” Lily repeated. “Pompeii will be buried in ash!”

  “As for you,” screamed Corvus, “if you say another word, I’ll knock your head off with this stick. Ashes? That’s nonsense! Vesuvius is not a fire mountain, everyone knows that! I want all you slaves back to your jobs immediately. Nobody leaves the establishment before nightfall!”

  The furnace stoker spoke up again, louder this time. “Corvus, this girl may be right. The ground is shaking and the mountain is on fire. You have to let us leave! Remember what happened to my daughter!”

  Corvus’s stick hissed through the air and hit the stoker’s cheek with a terrible crack. It opened a crimson cut that began to bleed.

  “Xenon, Flactus, Trilcien!” Corvus called. “Take Diomedes and lock him up in the warm room, th
e one with the deadbolt. There are ten sestertia in it for you! And while you’re at it, take care of this bird of ill omen!” He caught Lily by the elbow and shoved her into the arms of a huge man with thinning red hair. Sam ran to intervene but was soon seized in turn, as the promise of sestertia energized the other servants.

  “Lock the boy up too! That ones done nothing but get on my nerves all morning!”

  “Its hailing!” said the laundress in wonder. “Imagine, hail out of a clear blue sky!”

  As Sam struggled to free himself from the powerful hands of the tall, thin man restraining him, he felt something bounce off his neck.

  “That isn’t hail, those are stones!” someone called.

  Stones were falling in volleys — some large, some small, but most about the size of an egg. They were rough, irregular, and gray, but curiously quite light.

  “Look, its the mountain! Its spewing stones!”

  Indeed, a dark plume had formed over Vesuvius that grew thicker as it drifted toward the city.

  “Xenon, lock those three up,” ordered Corvus. “And you others, start picking up the stones. I want the palaestra to be clean as a whistle when this is over.”

  Diomedes, Sam, and Lily were hustled to the women’s baths and thrown into the tepidarium, the warm room. The stones pelting the roof made a deafening racket, but the sound didn’t keep Diomedes from yelling as he threw himself against the door: “Corvus, damn you! I have to find my wife and daughter! They need me! If anything happens to them …”

  Lily took Sam aside. “Those stones falling from the sky are pumice, Sam! We saw a documentary about it at school — it’s a sign that the eruption has really started. In a few hours, the town will be completely buried in ash!”

  “A few hours — are you sure?”

  “Maybe less, I don’t know. What I do know is that a lot of people died in Pompeii — men, women, children, everyone.