Ides (eyedz)
the thirteenth day of most months in the Roman calendar (including September); in March, July, October and May the Ides occur on the fifteenth day of the month.
insula (in-syu-luh)
a city block; literally, an island
Jewish calendar
the Jewish calendar is a lunar one, based on the cycles of the moon, unlike the Roman calendar (and our modern one) based on cycles of the sun. Jewish months always begin on the day of the new moon. The fourteenth therefore always occurs on the full moon. Also, the new day starts in the evening.
Josephus (jo-see-fuss)
Jewish commander who surrendered to Vespasian, became Titus’s freedman and wrote The Jewish War, an account of the Jewish revolt in seven volumes.
Judaea (jew-dee-uh)
ancient province of the Roman Empire; modern Israel
Juno (jew-no)
queen of the Roman gods and wife of the god Jupiter
Kalends
the Kalends mark the first day of the month in the Roman calendar
kohl (kole)
dark powder used to darken eyelids or outline eyes
Ludi Romani (loo-dee ro-mah-nee)
two-week Roman festival held in September and celebrated with chariot races
Messiah (mess-eye-uh)
the Hebrew word for Christ; both words mean ‘anointed’ or ‘chosen’ one
Neapolis (nee-ap-o-liss)
a large city in the south of Italy near Vesuvius; modern Naples
Nero (near-oh)
wicked Emperor; built the Golden House after the great fire of Rome in AD 64
Odysseus (uh-diss-yooss)
Greek hero who fought against Troy; his journey home took ten years
Odyssey (odd-iss-ee)
Homer’s Greek epic poem about the adventures of Odysseus on his way home
Oppian Hill (opp-ee-an)
part of the Esquiline Hill in Rome and site of Nero’s Golden House
Ostia (oss-tee-uh)
the port of ancient Rome and home town of Flavia Gemina
Palatine (pal-uh-tine)
one of the seven hills of Rome; the greenest and most pleasant; the site of successive imperial palaces (the word ‘palace’ comes from ‘Palatine’)
papyrus (puh-pie-russ)
the cheapest writing material, made of Egyptian reeds
Pausilypon (pow-sill-ip-on)
modern Posillipo, a coastal town near Naples
Pella (pell-uh)
an ancient city across the Jordan river where the Jewish believers in Jesus (the first Christians) sought refuge during the Jewish Wars
Penelope (pen-ell-uh-pee)
faithful wife of Odysseus who waited twenty years for him to return from Troy
pergola (purr-go-luh)
an arbour or walkway made of plants trained to grow over trellis-work
peristyle (perry-style)
a columned walkway around an inner garden or courtyard
Pliny (plin-ee)
(the Elder) famous Roman author; died in the eruption of Vesuvius
Pollux
one of the famous twins of Greek mythology
Polyphemus (polly-fee-muss)
the Cyclops whom Odysseus blinded in order to escape being devoured
Pompeii (pom-pay)
a prosperous coastal town buried by the eruption of Vesuvius in AD 79
psaltery (salt-ree)
a kind of Jewish lyre or harp
Puteoli (poo-tee-oh-lee)
modern Pozzuoli, Ancient Rome’s great commercial port on the bay of Naples
Sabbath (sab-uth)
the Jewish day of rest, counted from Friday evening to Saturday evening
sardonyx (sar-don-iks)
semi-precious stone; usually orange or brown, sometimes streaked with white
scroll (skrole)
a papyrus or parchment ‘book’, unrolled from side to side as it was read.
sestercii (sess-tur-see)
more than one sestercius, a brass coin. Four sestercii equal a denarius.
Sextus Propertius (sex-tuss pro-purr-shuss)
an elegant Roman poet who was a contemporary of Virgil and Ovid
shalom (shah-lome)
the Hebrew word for ‘peace’; can also mean ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’
shofar (show-far)
a special trumpet made from a ram’s horn, used to announce Jewish holy days
sica (seek-uh)
sickle-shaped dagger used by Jewish assassins (sicarii) in the first century AD
signet ring (sig-net ring)
ring with an image carved in it to be pressed into wax and used as a personal seal
Stabia (sta-bee-uh)
modern Castellammare di Stabia; a town south of Pompeii
stylus (stile-us)
a metal, wood or ivory tool for writing on wax tablets
succah (sook-uh)
a shelter woven of branches for the Feast of Tabernacles
Succot (sook-ot)
another name for the Feast of Tabernacles, one of the great festivals of the Jewish year; for eight days Jews eat and sleep in shelters (‘succot’)
Surrentum (sir-wren-tum)
modern Sorrento, a pretty harbour town south of Vesuvius
Titus (tie-tuss)
new Emperor of Rome and son of Vespasian, aged 39 when this story takes place (full name: Titus Flavius Vespasianus)
toga (toe-ga)
a blanket-like outer garment, worn by freeborn men and boys
Torah (tor-uh)
Hebrew word meaning ‘law’ or ‘instruction’. It can refer to the first five Books of the Bible or to the entire Old Testament.
triclinium (trick-lin-ee-um)
ancient Roman dining room, usually with three couches to recline on
trigon (try-gon)
ball game where three players stand at different points of an imaginary triangle and throw a ball to each other as fast and hard as they can; you lose if you drop it
tunic (tew-nic)
a piece of clothing like a big T-shirt; children often wore a long-sleeved one
Vespasian (vess-pay-zhun)
Roman Emperor who died three months before this story begins; Titus’s father
Vesuvius (vuh-soo-vee-yus)
the volcano near Naples which erupted on 24 August AD 79
wax tablet
a wax-covered rectangle of wood used for making notes
Yom Kippur (yom ki-poor)
the Day of Atonement, holiest and most solemn day in the Jewish calendar, when Jews fast for twenty-four hours to ask God’s forgiveness for the sins of the past year. It ends the ten Days of Awe which begin on the Jewish new year.
In the spring of AD 70, nine and a half years before this story takes place, four Roman legions surrounded the rebellious city of Jerusalem. The commander was Titus, son of Rome’s new Emperor, Vespasian. Jerusalem should have withstood the siege for years, but weakened by the fighting of those inside, it fell in months. Those few months were among the most terrible in the history of the Jewish people. Thousands were crucified as they tried to escape. Those who remained in the city suffered terrible famine. Finally, the Temple of God was destroyed, Jerusalem razed to the ground, and the survivors killed or enslaved.
Titus returned to Rome in triumph with thousands of Jewish slaves. It is probable that many of them were put to work building Vespasian’s new amphitheatre. This monument came to be known as the Colosseum, after the colossal statue of Nero which stood nearby.
Nero had died a year before the fall of Jerusalem. His opulent Golden House only survived another thirty-five years before it became the site of Trajan’s baths. Nobody knows exactly what it was used for during those years. Today, if you visit Rome, you can still visit part of the Golden House. There you will see painted rooms, a long cryptoporticus, an octagonal pavilion and a ‘Cyclops’ cave’.
Simeon, Susannah and Rizpah were not real people. Titus,
Domitian, Josephus and Berenice were. You can read more about them in history books.
To Jan-Theo, Bill, Barbara,
Eric, Silvano, Domenico
and all my other cyber-buddies
from the Ostia website
* * *
This story takes place in Ancient Roman times, so a few of the words may look strange.
If you don’t know them, ‘Aristo’s Scroll’ at the back of the book will tell you what they mean and how to pronounce them.
This story contains descriptions of ‘free diving’, a very dangerous activity which involves holding your breath underwater for as long as possible. Don’t try this at home.
* * *
Lupus was drumming.
He sat on the wooden floor of the small bedroom and played his goatskin drum: one beat with his right hand, another with his left. His eyes were closed but in his head he clearly saw the pattern he was making. The hits were small black pebbles, the no-hits were white pebbles. He played the pattern, built up the white and black pebbles and then entwined them in a plait. Just like the black and white mosaic chips in the floor of the triclinium downstairs.
When he wove drum patterns, it drove everything else from his mind. And that was good. The mosaic rhythm lifted him up and carried him along. He was only aware of the ache in his forearms and the tingling in the tips of his fingers and the pattern unwinding in his head.
‘Lupus!’
The voice had been calling him for some time now.
He opened his eyes.
Jonathan was sitting on his low bed, tuning a Syrian barbiton.
‘Enough warm-up,’ said his friend with a grin. ‘Let’s play.’
Lupus nodded and looked at Jonathan hard. Sometimes, when he’d been drumming, it was as if he’d been dreaming. And when he stopped it was like coming out of a trance: everything looked strange.
His friend Jonathan looked strange.
Maybe it was because Jonathan’s hair, once thick and curly, was now shorn to a soft dark stubble. Maybe it was because he’d lost weight, and his dark eyes looked huge in his face. Maybe it was because the brand on his left shoulder was still red and swollen.
Jonathan ben Mordecai had recently turned eleven. He seemed older than his age. Lupus felt older than his own eight and a half years, too. He hadn’t felt like a child since his tongue had been cut out.
Lupus watched Jonathan settle the smooth wooden bulb of the instrument between his bare feet and support the long neck with his hands, one over, one under.
He heard the deep note as Jonathan began to thumb the fattest string. The sound was sweet and round. It needed a drumbeat that sounded not like pebbles, but like something softer, rounder, more muted.
Lupus picked up the new drumstick he’d found at Flavia’s.
He gave the drum an experimental tap and nodded in satisfaction at the sound. Perfect. He found the beat and started to weave a new pattern, holding the drumstick in his right hand and using the palm of his left.
‘Lupus!’ Jonathan was staring at him in horror.
Lupus stopped drumming and gave Jonathan his bug-eyed look: What?
‘What on earth are you using as a drumstick?’
Lupus held up the sponge-stick and shrugged, as if to say: It’s a sponge-stick.
‘Where did you get it?’
Lupus tilted his head towards Flavia’s house next door.
‘Lupus. Do you know what that is? I mean, what it’s used for?’
Lupus shook his head.
Jonathan sighed. ‘I know you used to be a half-wild beggar-boy,’ he said. ‘But you’ve been living with us for nearly four months now. You’re practically a civilised Roman. You’re sure you don’t know what that sponge-stick is used for?’
Lupus shook his head again. And frowned.
Jonathan leaned forward and grinned. ‘It’s for wiping your bottom after you’ve been to the latrine.’
‘Flavia!’ bellowed a voice from the latrine. ‘Where’s the sponge-stick?’
Flavia Gemina looked at her ex-slave-girl Nubia. They shrugged at one another, got up and went out of their bedroom onto the balcony.
‘I don’t know, Uncle Gaius!’ Flavia yelled down into the sunny courtyard garden. ‘Isn’t it there? In the beaker of vinegar?’
‘No!’ came a grumpy voice from the latrine.
Flavia leaned further over the polished rail and called out, ‘Do you want me to grab you some leaves from the fig tree?’
‘I’ll do it!’ said Alma the cook, coming into view. She peered up at the two girls suspiciously.
‘You two aren’t wearing eyeliner, are you?’
‘Um, no!’ Flavia hastily pulled Nubia back into their room. Not only were they wearing kohl around their eyes, but they had done up their hair and put on all the jewellery they owned. They were trying on their outfits for Miriam’s betrothal supper, although the date had still not been set.
Nubia was wearing a peach shift over a lemon-yellow tunic. ‘Flavia . . .’ she said slowly, as she brushed her finger against the wine dregs at the bottom of an empty wine-cup, ‘what is betrothal supper?’
Flavia was smoothing her own grey silk shift over the sky-blue tunic and admiring the combination. ‘Well, it’s usually when the parents arrange the marriage of a man and a girl. There’s a celebration banquet and the man holds the girl’s hand in front of everybody and then he gives her a ring. After that they set the date for the wedding. Alma told me the wedding might be a week later, or a month later or even ten years later, if the couple are very young when they’re betrothed. Sometimes the girl is younger than we are.’
Flavia sat beside a small oak table on a folding stool. Nubia sat on a similar stool, facing her former mistress.
‘Do you think Miriam and Gaius will wait a year or two later?’ Nubia leaned forward and brushed her finger lightly over Flavia’s cheekbone.
‘I don’t think so. First, because of the volcano. Aristo says it reminded everyone that they won’t live forever. And second, because they’re passionately in love. Alma says it’s a bad omen.’
‘The volcano?’
‘No, that they’re in love. She says marrying for love is always a bad idea.’ Flavia peered into her highly polished silver mirror. ‘No. That’s too dark. Brush a bit off.’
Nubia thumbed the wine dregs off Flavia’s cheek, leaving just the hint of a blush.
‘That’s better,’ said Flavia, and stroked some of the powdered wine onto Nubia’s cheekbone. Then she leaned back on her stool and narrowed her eyes.
‘No. Your skin’s too dark. It doesn’t show up,’ said Flavia. She sat forward again. ‘Where you grew up, do the parents choose your husband or do you?’ she asked.
Nubia covered her smile with her hand. ‘We choose, and our parents say yes or no.’
‘Now do my mouth,’ said Flavia, pushing her lips out.
‘Oh, very nice!’ came a voice from underneath Flavia’s low bed.
‘Jonathan!’ Flavia squealed and the silver mirror clattered to the floor. ‘How long have you been under there?’
Jonathan wriggled out from underneath the bed and grinned up at her. His nutmeg-coloured tunic was grey with fluff and there was brick dust in the stubble of his cropped hair.
‘You need to remind Alma to dust under the beds,’ he remarked, standing up and brushing off the dust balls.
‘Stop!’ cried Flavia. ‘You’ll get our clothes dirty!’
Jonathan ignored Flavia. ‘Come on, Lupus,’ he said. ‘You can come out now.’
‘Lupus is under there, too?’ Flavia and Nubia exchanged horrified glances. Flavia stood up and folded her arms. Have you two been spying on us? We finished lessons over an hour ago. How long have you been under there?’ she repeated.
‘Not long.’ Jonathan helped Lupus to his feet. Lupus grinned at them. He was wearing his favourite sea-green tunic and had slicked his dark hair back from his forehead with laurel-scented oil. Because Lupus couldn’t speak, he always
carried a wax tablet with him. Now he opened this tablet with a flourish and thrust it in the girls’ faces:
SURPRISE!
With his other hand he held out the sponge-stick.
‘Where did you find that?’ cried Flavia. ‘And how did you –?’
‘Shhh!’ said Jonathan. ‘We don’t want anyone else to know about our secret entrance.’
‘You mean you came in through the wall?’ Flavia’s grey eyes widened.
Jonathan nodded. ‘My bedroom is right next to yours. Whenever I can’t sleep I pick at the plaster. I haven’t been sleeping very well since we got back from Rome and I’ve picked off quite a bit of it. Lupus and I spent all day yesterday getting the mortar out from between the bricks and we’ve made a way through.’
‘Jonathan! How exciting! Let’s not tell anybody else,’ Flavia breathed. ‘Not even your father or Miriam.’
‘That’s why I’ve been telling you to be quiet.’ Jonathan rolled his eyes.
Flavia sucked a loose strand of her light brown hair thoughtfully. ‘We’ll have to think of a secret signal for when we want to come through. How about three taps on the wall?’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘Everybody knocks three times,’ he said. ‘How about four? One for each of us.’
‘Excellent idea,’ said Flavia.
Lupus gave them a thumbs-up.
At that moment they all heard four distinct raps at the front door of the house. The friends looked at each other, wide-eyed.
‘You two stay here. Out of sight!’ hissed Flavia. She and Nubia rushed back to the balcony and peered down into the garden.
Flavia’s uncle Gaius was standing by the fountain, washing his hands. As he shook the drops from his fingers and turned towards the entrance of the house, Caudex the door-slave staggered into the garden, half-carrying and half-supporting a beggar.
The man wore a tattered tunic and had bandages instead of sandals on his feet. His legs were covered with red sores. His hair was matted and his beard ragged. The beggar was tall, but painfully thin. From her vantage point on the balcony above, Flavia couldn’t make out his expression, but it looked as though he was drunk.
‘Caudex,’ she scolded, starting down the stairs, ‘what on earth are you doing? You can’t just let any –’
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 54