The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection

by Lawrence, Caroline

  ‘Behold, the blood flows from your nose and ears!’

  ‘Oh, Lupus!’ cried Flavia, clapping her palms to her cheeks.

  Lupus wiped his nose with his arm and saw the smear of blood there. He shrugged, stepped out onto the board, sat with his legs in the water and splashed his face. Nubia knew he was preparing to dive for the seventh time.

  But before he could slip into the water again, strong arms lifted Lupus back into the boat. ‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Aristo quietly. ‘I grew up beside the sea and I’m no fool. There is no way I’m letting you dive again today.’

  That afternoon at dinner Lupus sat sullenly at the table and refused to eat his food. Nubia decided he was still angry because Aristo had stopped him diving for the gold. She noticed that he kept staring at the statue against the wall, particularly at the Gorgon’s agonised face, frozen horribly in the throes of death.

  His mood affected everyone.

  Finally Nubia had an idea. She knew drumming often brought Lupus a sort of peace.

  ‘Shall we play music?’ she suggested when the dessert course had been cleared away. If Lupus joined in he might feel better.

  Aristo shot her a keen glance. ‘Good idea,’ he said and turned to their host. ‘May we play?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Pliny. He clapped his hands. ‘Phrixus! Bring our instruments, will you? And there’s another lyre in the storeroom.’

  Phrixus returned a few moments later and handed out the instruments. When Lupus refused to take his goatskin drum, Phrixus set it on the table beside him.

  Nubia glanced at Aristo and mouthed ‘Song of the Traveller’. It had a strong beat. Aristo nodded and began to play. Nubia sang, Jonathan thumbed the bass notes on his barbiton and Flavia jingled her tambourine.

  Lupus ignored them.

  When the song ended, Nubia looked at Aristo. He raised his eyebrows at her and she knew which song he wanted her to play: ‘Slave Song’.

  She nodded back and kept her eyes on him. They began together.

  Presently Jonathan came in on the barbiton and then Flavia softly on tambourine, but the music longed for the drum. Nubia had to close her eyes to concentrate.

  The first time she had played it, even though she had played solo, the song had brought her a deep release. She had known then that it was something special.

  Later, when Aristo and her friends had learned to play the song, it had become something even more wonderful. But without the drum it sounded wrong.

  Nubia felt a strange tightness in her throat. She tried to swallow but that didn’t help, so she stopped playing and opened her eyes. Aristo stopped, too, and the song trailed off. He gave a small shake of his head and nodded towards Lupus’s place at the table.

  It was empty.

  The slaves looked up with interest as Lupus entered the kitchen. It was a large, dim room with a vaulted ceiling and a coal hearth along one entire wall. The grey plaster walls were smoke-streaked and in places the brickwork showed through. Despite its drabness, the laughter of the kitchen slaves and the scent of dried herbs gave it a cheerful feel.

  One of the figures detached himself from the group and came over. Lupus was surprised to see it was Phrixus.

  ‘What is it, Lupus? What do you want? Buttermilk? Soup?’

  Lupus shook his head. He had been expecting to mime his requests but Phrixus could read, so he unflipped his wax tablet and wrote:

  BIG BEAKER OF WATER WITH SALT IN IT

  In one corner of the kitchen was a stone sink full of water. Phrixus took a clay beaker from the shelf, filled it with water and handed it to Lupus. Then he passed the boy a ceramic bowl of grey salt with a bone spoon in it.

  Lupus stirred three spoonfuls of salt into the water and drained the beaker.

  ‘That will make you terribly thirsty,’ said Phrixus.

  Lupus nodded at him to say: Yes, I know.

  Then he wrote a list on his wax tablet:

  ALMONDS

  DRIED FISH

  OLIVE OIL

  MORTARIUM

  Phrixus raised an eyebrow when he saw the list and then called out: ‘Rosa! Bring us some almonds, dried fish, and olive oil. Oh, and a mortar and pestle.’

  A plump kitchen slave with red hair hurried to get the items. She dimpled prettily as she set them on the wooden table.

  Lupus grunted his thanks and put a handful of almonds in the large, flattish bowl. It was made of fired clay with bits of pottery grit embedded in it. Using a heavy marble pestle he ground the almonds to paste, then gradually began to add the dried fish.

  Rosa and Phrixus watched with interest and soon the other slaves had gathered round. Lupus’s forearm was already beginning to ache from the grinding. He switched to his left hand.

  ‘What is he making?’ asked Rosa.

  ‘I can’t wait to see,’ said Phrixus.

  When the fish and almonds were ground together, Lupus began to add olive oil.

  Now his left arm was aching so he switched back to his right.

  ‘Take over the grinding, would you, Rosa?’ asked Phrixus with a smile.

  The slave-girl took the pestle from Lupus. As he added the oil, she continued grinding. Her forearms were strong and muscular. Soon the mortarium was full of a viscous light-brown liquid.

  ‘What on earth?’ Phrixus asked Lupus.

  Lupus sighed and picked up his wax tablet again.

  SPECIAL MEAL FOR DIVERS he wrote.

  Phrixus nodded, and then winced as Lupus poured the whole mixture into the empty water beaker and carefully tipped it down his throat.

  *

  Something woke Flavia from her dream of swimming with dolphins.

  It was the deepest hour of the night. The ceiling above her was only just visible in the flickering light of a small clay night-lamp.

  From across the room, Nubia’s breathing was slow and steady. Everything else was silent.

  Then Flavia felt it. Along the length of her back where it rested on the mattress. The merest trembling, first a purr, then a growl, then stillness again. Had she imagined it? She heard Nipur whine and felt Scuto’s cold nose gently butt her hand.

  No. She had not imagined it. The dogs had sensed it, too. She patted the bed beside her. ‘Come on, boy,’ she whispered. ‘You can come up just this once.’

  Scuto didn’t need to be told twice. The narrow bed creaked as he lifted himself onto it, then turned in a circle to make a place. Flavia had to move right over until she was almost falling off but she didn’t mind. She turned on her side, slipped her arm around Scuto’s warm, woolly neck and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

  Just as there had been tremors before the volcano erupted, this must have been one after. She wondered how much stronger it would have felt for those living near Vesuvius. And in Surrentum.

  Presently she drifted back to sleep and into an unsettling dream in which she was standing on Green Fountain Street in front of her house. She was locked out. When she stepped forward and banged the knocker, strange eyes appeared in the peephole: the brown eyes of a woman.

  When Flavia awoke the next morning she had forgotten all about the tremor.

  Aristo came into the triclinium as the slaves were serving breakfast. He sat heavily on one of the wrought-iron chairs and stared out through the pink spiral columns towards the sea.

  Nubia looked up from her cheese and figs. ‘Are you unhappy, Aristo?’ she asked.

  He turned back to the table and looked at the girls. ‘Last night I had a bad dream,’ he said. ‘I can’t remember what it was, but when I got up and opened my bedroom curtain the first thing I saw was a slave-girl crying.’

  ‘And?’ said Flavia, taking a sip of pomegranate juice.

  ‘When I asked her what was wrong, she said she had been cleaning fish for supper this afternoon and she found one with no heart.’

  Flavia slowly put down her cup.

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked Nubia.

  ‘It’s a bad omen,’ said Aristo.

  ‘
Very bad,’ said Flavia. ‘The day Julius Caesar was murdered, the soothsayers found the lamb had no heart.’

  ‘And that’s not quite all,’ said Aristo. ‘I asked her what sort of fish she had been gutting, and she said it was the fish called “lupus”.’

  ‘Maybe we shouldn’t let Lupus dive today,’ said Flavia to Aristo. ‘If the omens are bad, he could be in danger.’

  There was an angry grunt from behind them. Jonathan and Lupus had just come into the room. The younger boy had his hands on his hips and it was obvious from the scowl on his face that he had heard Flavia’s last remark.

  ‘She’s right, Lupus,’ said Aristo. ‘You could be in danger.’

  Lupus was already writing on his tablet. He strode forward and slammed it down on the marble table.

  I DON’T BELIEVE IN OMENS

  ‘Besides,’ said Jonathan, ‘I’ve invented a special float-rope that means Lupus will only have to make one more dive.’

  ‘Really?’ said Aristo. ‘Show us.’

  ‘Here are my plans,’ said Jonathan, opening his wax tablet and putting it on the table. He bent over and leaned his elbows on the cold marble.

  ‘What’s this line with little circles on it?’ asked Flavia.

  ‘That’s my invention. I call it a float-rope. A few days ago I noticed about a dozen floats in the boathouse, for keeping the fishing nets from sinking.’

  ‘I know what they look like,’ said Flavia. She pressed her two fists together: ‘They’re about this big, round and light brown.’

  ‘That’s it. They’re made of cork, a kind of bark. Well, yesterday, after we got back, Phrixus and I attached the cork floats to the end of a long rope. I used the abacus to calculate the depth of the wreck. I think it’s about eighty feet deep. So I’ve made the float-rope a hundred feet, just in case my calculations are off.’

  ‘Your calculations are excellent,’ said Aristo, studying the figures on Jonathan’s wax tablet.

  ‘And Lupus and I have been doing a few tests in the heated swimming pool of the baths this morning,’ said Jonathan, standing up straight. ‘We tried pushing cork floats under the water. It’s almost impossible to hold them down.’

  Aristo frowned. ‘If the floats are so buoyant, how will we get a dozen of them to a depth of eighty feet?’

  ‘I’ve thought of that,’ said Jonathan. ‘The anchor is the only thing I could think of heavy enough to pull the float-rope down and keep it there. We attach the float-rope to the anchor with hemp cords. When Lupus cuts these cords the float rope will immediately rise to the surface, bringing the amphora with it.’

  ‘Jonathan,’ said Aristo, ‘that’s a brilliant invention.’

  Jonathan flushed with pleasure. ‘The most difficult part,’ he said, ‘will be for Lupus to get the gold-filled amphora to the float-rope, but the water should make it less heavy than if it were in the air. You taught us that.’

  It was Aristo’s turn to flush. ‘You’ve actually applied something I taught you, Jonathan. That’s the sign of a true engineer.’

  ‘And look,’ said Jonathan, ‘Lupus drew me a picture of the amphora with the gold in it. The neck is broken but it still has one handle. So Phrixus and I attached this big fishhook to the float-rope. All Lupus has to do is slip the handle of the amphora over the hook. He doesn’t have to tie a knot or anything.’

  CAN WE TRY IT OUT? wrote Lupus on his wax tablet.

  Aristo glanced out through the pink columns. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Against my better judgment. But I want to wait an hour or so to see if that bank of clouds on the horizon is coming or going. Agreed?’

  They all nodded.

  ‘Get out your wax tablets,’ Aristo said. ‘Let’s go over Jonathan’s calculations.’

  ‘Do we have to do sums, Aristo?’ moaned Flavia. ‘Couldn’t you just tell us a quick story? Like yesterday?’

  ‘Another story maybe of dolphins?’ added Nubia.

  ‘Well,’ said Aristo with a slow smile, ‘there is one more myth about dolphins. It’s the story of Neptune and Amphitrite.’

  ‘Neptune, the god of the sea, had a thick beard as green as kelp and swarming with sea creatures. Little scuttling crabs in particular.’

  ‘Ewww!’ said Flavia, and the others laughed.

  ‘And as Flavia has just demonstrated,’ continued Aristo, ‘this seething green beard was not very attractive to females. So when Neptune fell in love with a beautiful sea-nymph named Amphitrite, she ran away from him. She did not want to kiss a man with a kelpy beard, even a god!’

  Flavia and Nubia glanced at one another and Nubia giggled behind her hand.

  ‘But Neptune was passionate about Amphitrite, so he devised a plan. He would win Amphitrite’s heart by building her a palace made of pearls and coral and sea-gold. When it was finished, he told all the creatures of the sea to search the watery realms of his kingdom for Amphitrite, most beautiful of the nymphs.’

  ‘What did she look like?’ asked Nubia resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.

  ‘What did she . . .? Oh. Well, let’s see. She was very beautiful with a slender body as white as marble. Her eyes were violet, the colour of the sky at dusk.’ Aristo had a dreamy look in his eyes. ‘Her lips were pink as coral and her teeth as white as pearls. Her hair was beautiful: glossy, and thick, and curly . . .’

  He trailed off as Miriam came quietly into the dining-room.

  ‘You were describing her hair,’ said Flavia, with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. ‘Glossy and thick and curly . . .’

  ‘And green!’ said Aristo. ‘Her hair was green.’ He glanced over at Miriam, who was leaning on the parapet, and he coloured slightly. ‘Anyway, Neptune loved Amphitrite and was so intent on having her as his wife that he offered a reward of immortality to whoever found her.’

  ‘What’s immorality?’ asked Nubia.

  ‘Er . . . immortality means you live forever, like the gods on Olympus.’

  ‘Stop interrupting him,’ said Jonathan mildly. ‘I want to hear the rest of the story.’

  ‘There’s not much more to tell,’ said Aristo. ‘Delphinus the dolphin found Amphitrite hiding near the Atlas Mountains. He told her that she could live in a palace made of pearls and coral and sea-gold. If she came back. And he said that Neptune had promised not to kiss her too often. Amphitrite missed her sea-nymph friends and she liked the idea of living in her own palace. So she climbed onto Delphinus’s smooth grey back and the faithful dolphin carried her home.’

  ‘Someone else who rode a dolphin!’ cried Flavia.

  Aristo nodded. ‘Neptune married Amphitrite and made her his queen. They were very happy together and had lots of little green-haired sea-nymphs. As for Delphinus, he was made Neptune’s official messenger. But whenever he wasn’t working, he was allowed to frolic in the foamy waves. And when, after a long and happy life, Delphinus the dolphin finally died, Neptune turned him into a constellation and set him in the sky, to comfort sailors at night.’

  ‘The gods always do that,’ said Jonathan. ‘Same with Hercules. They promise you immortality and then they make you into a constellation: cold stars in the big black sky. That’s not how I want to spend eternity.’

  Miriam had been leaning on the marble parapet, gazing out over the water. Abruptly she turned to them with excitement in her violet eyes. ‘The dolphins must have heard you talking about them,’ she cried. ‘They’re back again!’

  It wasn’t until she was swimming towards the dolphins that Flavia realised someone was missing.

  ‘Where’s Lupus?’ She stopped to tread water and look around.

  ‘He’s back on the beach, under the big parasol. With Aristo and the dogs.’ Jonathan turned onto his back and floated for a moment. ‘It looks like he’s practising his breathing.’

  ‘But why isn’t he coming with us? He loved swimming with the dolphins!’

  ‘Dolphins are making Lupus soft inside,’ said Nubia, who had also stopped to float.

  ‘I think Nubia�
��s right,’ said Jonathan. ‘Lupus seemed different after we swam with the dolphins. It was the first time I’ve ever seen him sit still, without fidgeting.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Flavia, trying to float like the other two. ‘And he didn’t look as . . . tough as he usually does.’

  ‘Then he saw octopus,’ said Nubia. ‘And the tough comes back.’

  Jonathan nodded.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Flavia slowly, ‘that’s the way he wants to be. Maybe he doesn’t want to be soft inside . . .’

  Suddenly she squealed with delight. She had caught sight of four grey shapes speeding through the glassy water beneath them. One of them leapt high in the air and the three friends laughed as he splashed down again, drenching them with salty spray.

  Lupus lowered his head and then lifted it again.

  With red-rimmed eyes, he watched the dolphins pull his friends in joyous circles through the water.

  One of the dolphins swam alone. Every so often it leapt high into the air and flipped, scattering drops of water like diamonds, then splashed back into the sea. Lupus knew the dolphin was trying to attract his attention.

  Would it be so terrible if he forgot about his vow and ran down to the water to swim?

  No. Swimming with the dolphins had made him feel soft. And weak. And if he grew weak he would not be able to avenge the murder of his parents.

  Vengeance was his duty. His duty as a son.

  Lupus sat up straighter and crossed his legs. Then he closed his eyes to the sight of his friends and their dolphins swimming in the glittering blue sea. He took several quick breaths. Finally he blew all the air from his chest and took a breath so big it made his ribs ache.

  Then he began to count.

  ‘I think I had the same dolphin as before,’ laughed Flavia. She spread her linen towel just outside the shade of Lupus’s parasol so that the hot sun would dry her. ‘I tried to ride my dolphin like Arion, but I kept slipping off.’

  ‘My dolphin used his nose to pull me,’ wheezed Jonathan as he flopped down in the shade beside Lupus. ‘I was patting his nose like this and he started swimming and I was being pulled along and I was yelling stop, stop and then I was yelling no, don’t stop!’