Another wave of nausea washed over her. What was she doing? She had never stolen anything in her life and now she was abducting a priceless racehorse.
She stopped and crouched in the street and lowered her head between her knees, afraid for a moment that she was going to be sick. Presently it passed and she rose unsteadily to her feet.
‘Don’t worry, Nubia,’ said the beggar kindly. ‘You’re doing the right thing. Horse racing’s a cruel business.’
‘You know my name?’ she said.
‘Of course.’
‘What is your name?’ she asked in a trembling voice.
‘Hierax.’
‘Hierax,’ repeated Nubia, and nodded to herself. ‘That means hawk.’ She knew that Jupiter often took the form of a bird of prey. She also remembered the story of how Jupiter and Mercury had once disguised themselves as ragged travellers to test people. Only one old couple had shown kindness and the two gods had rewarded them.
Tonight Jupiter would reward her by taking Pegasus to the Alban Hills, where he could run free and graze on green grass and never again risk death in the hippodrome.
Tomorrow she would have to return to Flavia and the others. What could she tell them? That Pegasus had run off. And that she had followed him for a long way before he finally eluded her.
The thought of lying to Flavia made her feel sick again.
But when Pegasus turned his head and snuffled softly in the hollow of her neck, she knew she was doing the right thing.
‘Hierax?’ said Jonathan. ‘One-Leg’s real name is Hierax?’
He and Flavia and Lupus had gone back to the Stables of the Greens to look for Nubia and Pegasus. But they had found no trace of them. Now they were speaking to the owner of the glass-beaker stall on the roadside.
‘That’s right,’ said the stall-keeper. ‘The beggar’s name is Hierax.’
‘And you’re sure he’s not one of the gods in disguise?’ Jonathan looked pointedly at Flavia.
‘No,’ chuckled the stall-keeper, ‘he’s not a god, but he did used to be the next best thing.’
Jonathan’s eyebrows went up in questioning surprise.
‘He was a famous auriga,’ said the shopkeeper. ‘In Rome that’s the next best thing to being a god. He was rich, handsome, followed by crowds of adoring girls . . . But then, two years ago he had a terrible accident in the hippodrome—’
‘So that’s how he lost his leg,’ said Flavia.
‘And some fingers and half the skin off his face.’
Jonathan nodded. ‘And all his riches.’
‘Now, that’s what’s strange,’ said the beaker man. ‘After the accident, his faction set him free and gave him his share of the winnings. He became even richer than before.’
‘The one-legged beggar is rich?’ said Flavia.
‘Rich as Crassus.’
‘Ohe!’ said Jonathan. ‘If he’s so rich, then why does he dress in rags and beg for alms?’
Glass-beaker man shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. I said he was strange. Who knows why these rich eccentrics do what they do? All I know is he may dress like a beggar, but he owns a villa in Baiae and a townhouse on the Aventine Hill.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘He told me. He sits here most mornings. Of course, he could be lying, but I know how much charioteers can earn, and he was one of the best.’
‘If Hierax the beggar is rich,’ said Flavia to the boys, ‘then he can’t be behind the sabotage or the kidnapping of Nubia and Pegasus. He has no motive.’
Jonathan nodded. ‘I thought it seemed odd that a one-legged man could overpower Nubia and a big stallion.’
Lupus nodded in agreement.
‘So if the one-legged beggar didn’t abduct Nubia and Pegasus,’ said Jonathan, ‘then where are they?’
They were all quiet for a moment. Then Flavia turned to Jonathan and Lupus. ‘Maybe Nubia took Pegasus!’ she breathed. ‘And she got the beggar to help her.’
‘But why? Why would Nubia take Pegasus?’
‘Because she loves him and doesn’t want to see him hurt.’
‘Great Juno’s beard!’ muttered Jonathan. ‘You could be right.’
Lupus thought about it, then nodded, too.
‘Oh, Nubia,’ whispered Flavia, ‘what have you done?’
‘Behold!’ breathed Nubia, as they passed through the double doors of a large townhouse. ‘It is beautiful!’ She stopped to look around the bright atrium. It was blessedly cool after the hot street.
Pegasus clopped across a honeycomb-pattern mosaic floor and bent his dark neck to drink from the impluvium.
Nubia laughed at the sight of her beautiful horse in the middle of this opulent house.
‘He seems right at home here, doesn’t he?’ said Hierax, and swung forward on his crutches. ‘Come into the inner garden.’
‘Oh, it is so big!’ Nubia gazed around the green garden with its apple trees and low box hedge. ‘It is almost as big as the townhouse of Senator Cornix.’
‘I hope there’s nobody here!’ said Hierax loudly. He used his good eye to wink at Nubia. ‘My other beggar friends have found out about this place and sometimes they come to stay, too. The old woman might be here. Athena?’ he called, then winked again. ‘Look at that room.’ He pointed with his chin.
Nubia’s eyes widened. ‘There is hay on the floor and a big trough of water and a manger.’ She looked at him, awestruck. ‘How did you know we would bring Pegasus here?’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t. It’s always been like this. The previous owners must have kept a horse here.’
Beside her, Pegasus snorted and she sensed his sudden disquiet. ‘Do not be afraid, beautiful Pegasus,’ she whispered, stroking the silky fringe of his pale gold mane. ‘We are safe now. Don’t you like this place? Come.’ She led him into the room, with its sweet smell of hay and horse barley.
Pegasus went straight to the manger and bent his head to eat.
‘No!’ she cried. ‘That food will be mould. That is bad for you.’
But she could sense the horse’s pleasure as he ate. Puzzled, Nubia went to the manger, scooped up a handful of barley and sniffed it. ‘It does not smell mould,’ she said to Hierax. ‘But it smells faintly wine.’
‘Probably been soaked in it.’ He gave her his gap-toothed grin. ‘That must be why it’s still edible. Speaking of food,’ he said, ‘I’m famished. How about you? Why don’t we have some dates and cheese? We can eat them sitting on the upstairs balcony. You can see the whole Circus Maximus from up there.’
Nubia stared at him. This was like a dream: being led by a beggar into a palatial house with stables and a view of the Circus. Truly, he must be one of the gods.
‘Great Jupiter’s beard!’ bellowed Senator Cornix, in a voice that turned every head in their section of the hippodrome. ‘Where on earth have you children been? You told me you were going for lunch and it’s nearly the fourth hour after noon! You are not to leave your seats until the races are over. Do you hear me?’ Suddenly he stopped shouting and glared past Flavia. ‘Where’s Nubia?’ he said. ‘Why isn’t she with you?’
‘Oh, Uncle Aulus!’ cried Flavia, and she burst into tears.
Sisyphus put his arm round Flavia and she sobbed into the shoulder of his leek-green tunic. She was dimly aware of a trumpet blasting and the roar of the crowd. Another race was underway.
‘Tell us what’s happened,’ said Sisyphus.
Flavia raised her face. ‘Nubia’s gone.’
‘Gone where?’ said Sisyphus gently.
‘We don’t know. But we think she might have taken Pegasus with her.’
‘She WHAT?’ cried Senator Cornix.
Sisyphus shot his master a reproachful glance and said to Flavia, ‘Why?’
‘We think she took Pegasus away to save him from the dangers of the hippodrome,’ said Flavia.
There were screams from the spectators as a Green chariot disintegrated on the track below them. Flavia glanced down at the carnage
and then quickly away. ‘Dangers like that,’ she added in a small voice.
Sisyphus acknowledged this point with a wry look, then frowned. ‘How did she get past the guards?’
‘They know she found Sagitta and they didn’t suspect her. We think she got the one-legged beggar to help her. He used to be a charioteer.’
‘Who used to be a charioteer?’ said Aulus.
Flavia ignored his question. ‘Oh, Sisyphus! I’m so worried. Where could she have gone? What if she never comes back?’ She blinked back fresh tears.
‘There, there. Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll come back.’
Flavia nodded and swallowed hard. ‘What about Pegasus? Shall we tell Scopas? Or Urbanus?’
‘Urbanus is not our biggest fan at the moment,’ said Jonathan in a low voice.
‘Then what should we do?’
‘Nothing,’ said Senator Cornix. His face was grim. ‘If we report Nubia to the vigiles and they find her, then they’ll probably execute her. Better wait and hope she returns the horse of her own accord. By Hercules!’ he muttered. ‘This is what happens when you give slaves, women and children too much freedom!’ He glared at Flavia. ‘When your father returns from Greece I’m going to Ostia to have a long talk with him.’
Flavia hung her head and nodded, too miserable to protest.
‘Hey!’ said Aulus Junior suddenly. ‘Where’s Lupus got to?’
Lupus had spotted the curly-haired boy down on the track, this time dressed as a sparsor of the Whites. He knew it was the same boy he had chased, because of his limp. So while everyone was fussing over Flavia, Lupus slipped away and trotted down the marble stairs leading to the arena. He vaulted the bronze barrier and pressed himself close to the podium, so nobody on this side of the stands could see him. Then he sprinted to the little shrine on the track and slipped inside, passing from hot sun into the shady, myrtle-scented interior. He mouthed an apology to the marble statue of the goddess Murcia, who was very pretty. From here he could see most of this side of the racecourse including the curly-haired boy in white. He was watching the track stewards clear away the wreckage of a Green chariot.
Presently the Blues won the race. As the victorious chariot completed its lap of honour and came to a halt by the finishing box, Lupus saw the boy move away towards the carceres.
He waited until the prize and palm had been given, and as soon as the Blue chariot started back towards the exit, Lupus darted out of the shrine and ran towards the carceres arch.
When he finally emerged into the Forum Boarium, he looked in vain for the boy in white. As usual, the area was crowded with horses, grooms and charioteers. He moved among them, searching here and there, and was just about to give up when he saw a curly head. The boy was limping past the noticeboard. Lupus dashed after him, weaving between people and leaping over piles of manure, and was just in time to see Limp mount the steps of the distinctive round temple of Hercules. The boy glanced furtively around and disappeared inside. Lupus crept as close as he dared, then hid behind one of the fluted stone columns.
Presently he was rewarded by the sight of Limp emerging again. This time he was dressed in the colours of the Greens.
Lupus moved round, keeping the column between him and the boy. He was close enough to see an ugly bruise on Limp’s calf, where the horse’s hoof must have struck him. Lupus followed the boy down the temple steps and back through the hot, busy forum to the Pavilion of the Greens. At the entrance, the boy waved his wrist at the bored guard, and entered.
Lupus dared not follow. Urbanus had probably worked out who had taken Pegasus, and he knew Lupus was Nubia’s friend. The idea of being interrogated by an angry man with a whip did not appeal. Lupus sat in the shade of the bronze bull fountain and let the mist from the splashing water cool him.
The sun was two hands lower in the sky by the time the curly-haired boy emerged again, at the end of a line of horses being taken back to the Campus Martius. Limp was leading a bronze-coloured horse, and Lupus stifled a grunt as he recognised his favourite member of the Greens’ alpha team: Latro! The boy was going more slowly than the others, letting the gap between Latro and the horse ahead grow wider. A crowd of joking charioteers walked in front of Lupus and when they passed the boy and the horse had vanished.
Lupus jumped up and looked around. He ran to where he had last seen them, and was just in time to see Latro’s bronze-coloured rump disappearing between the columns of a small square temple. So that was how they got them out!
He followed Limp and Latro through the temple down four steps, then up a steep, stone-paved street of the Aventine Hill. He had to press himself into a doorway when the limping boy’s twin suddenly appeared around a bend. No-limp was dressed in red, and as soon as he saw his brother they began to argue about something. Lupus peeked out of the doorway and watched as the limping boy pointed up the hill. His brother shook his head and pointed back down. Presently Limp won the argument; he and his brother led Latro further up the hill.
Lupus’s heart was pounding. If he could follow them without being seen, they might lead him to the person they were working for: the person who was trying to sabotage the Greens.
Nubia and Jupiter-in-disguise sat on an upper balcony of the Aventine townhouse. From here they could see most of the Circus Maximus spread below them, framed by a lone umbrella pine on the left and two tall cypress trees on the right. Jupiter-disguised-as-Hierax had laid out dates and white goat’s cheese on a circular brass tray which Nubia had carried up the stairs to the balcony. Jupiter had been nibbling all afternoon. This surprised Nubia. She did not think the gods ate normal food.
She herself had no appetite. Guilt and anxiety made her stomach churn.
From up here the Circus Maximus looked like the Circus Minimus, and the crashes did not seem so terrible, though she still had to avert her eyes when a Green charioteer fell under the wheels of a quadriga. Jupiter-Hierax had watched the races with great enjoyment, often muttering, ‘Yes, yes, excellent!’ or ‘Well done, boys!’ He especially liked the crashes and he seemed to support the Blues.
The sinking afternoon sun bathed the spectators in the stands with a golden light. Soon it would be dusk. Soon they would take Pegasus to his Alban paradise.
Jupiter-Hierax popped a date into the left side of his mouth, which had more teeth than the right. A scar on his cheekbone moved up and down as he chewed. ‘Tell me how you came to be here,’ he said, as they watched little men clear up wreckage from the track below.
‘Here?’
‘Italia,’ said Jupiter-Hierax. ‘How did you come to be here in Italia?’
‘Slave-traders burn my tents and kill my family.’
‘Tell me,’ said Jupiter-in-disguise, his eyes still fixed on the racecourse below.
Nubia hesitated. Was this another one of his tests? If so, she must be as honest as possible. ‘It is more than one year ago,’ she said, ‘and it is night. I am in the desert with my family. The stars are so beautiful. We sit on the soft sand around fire. Taharqo plays his flute. He is my oldest brother. He plays the Song of the Maiden and the Song of the Lost Kid. Our goats are nearby asleep and I smell their goatness mixed with sandalwood which burns on fire.’
‘Sounds nice.’
‘Yes. I am happy. But I am also sad. The Song of the Lost Kid always makes me weep and so I am crying silent. My dog Nipur comes to lie beside me to bring comfort. He always knows when I am sad. I turn my head and I can see mother. She sits with my littlest sister Seyala in cloth sling. Seyala is fast asleep and my mother is rocking gently. Even my twin brothers Shabaqo and Shebitqo are quiet. When the last note of Taharqo’s song dies, Father tells the story of The Traveller who visits the Lands of Blue, Red, White and Green.’
‘Just like the chariot factions,’ chuckled Jupiter-Hierax, stroking his dark beard.
‘Oh,’ said Nubia, gazing at him wide-eyed. ‘This thought never visits me before.’
‘Which is the best land?’
‘The Land of Gree
n,’ said Nubia.
Jupiter-in-disguise snorted and took a piece of cheese.
Nubia looked out over the rooftops of Rome, now glowing red in the setting sun. ‘That night the men come.’
‘What men?’
‘Men with long robes and twisty head wrappings and black veils like women. We run. Everywhere is screams and confusion. Mother cries “Run!” So I go hide behind dune with Shabaqo. I see the men attack Father. Later he lies very still in the sand and his dark blood makes a stain. Taharqo fights but they knock him on the head and chain him. They kill Nipur and other dogs, too. They chain my mother with some from our clan, some not from our clan. Then they set fire to tents. Mother is chained and cannot run, but now I hear screams inside tent.’
Nubia stopped and Jupiter-Hierax glanced at her. ‘Who was in the tent?’
‘I can not remember,’ she said. ‘But the men catch me then, as I stand outside tent, and they chain me to other women.’
‘What happened to your family? The ones who survived?’
‘All but Taharqo are dead.’
‘How?’
‘We march very long way. My feet were blister and my throat dry. On that journey many die and lie beside the road for jackals and vultures. My mother and baby sister fall beside road and they will not let me go to them. Now I have no more tears. We arrive at Alexandria, where everything is water and sky, and some people live in boats. They make us walk gangplank onto boat. Some of the girls do not want to go. They are confused. Then slave-dealer throws one in water. But her hands are still tied and she drowns. We scream and slave-dealer laughs.’
‘Dear gods,’ he muttered, through a mouthful of dates.
‘You would think I do not want to live after all these things, but I want to live more than ever.’ She turned to Jupiter-Hierax and added fiercely. ‘And I want Pegasus to live, too!’
Fanning herself with a papyrus racing programme, Flavia listlessly watched the penultimate race of the day. She was hot and miserable and worried about Nubia. Senator Cornix and Aulus Junior were miserable, too, but for a different reason. During the whole day’s racing, the Greens had only taken the palm twice.
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 178