The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection

by Lawrence, Caroline

  ‘What’s all this?’ he said, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the garlands.

  ‘Today is Nubia’s birthday,’ said Flavia. She was handing the end of a garland to Jonathan, who stood on a stool. ‘She’s thirteen.’

  ‘We’re having a special banquet at the tenth hour,’ added Jonathan over his shoulder. He came carefully down from the stool, favouring his sore ankle.

  ‘You’re welcome to come!’ added Flavia. ‘If you like.’

  ‘Where’s the birthday girl?’ Bato looked around. ‘And where’s Aristo?’

  Lupus was also up on a stool. He grunted and pointed towards the Orpheus courtyard.

  ‘Aristo has started teaching the children,’ Flavia explained. ‘He teaches them every morning. Nubia helps him; she looks after the younger ones.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ said Bato. ‘Good for them.’

  ‘Do you have any news for us?’ asked Flavia.

  Bato nodded. ‘Baby Nicholas is very well. The waters of Hierapolis cured his rash. He and his mother Chloe are on their way back to Smyrna, to rejoin her family.’

  ‘And Mindius?’ asked Jonathan. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the basilica cells, I hope,’ said Flavia. ‘Awaiting trial.’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Bato. ‘I let him go.’

  Lupus gave Bato his bug-eyed look and Flavia squealed: ‘You let him go? You let Biggest Buyer go? The man we’ve been trying to catch for three years?’

  Bato shrugged. ‘Biggest Buyer as we know him is gone. The man I released has given away all his belongings. He has no possessions other than the tunic he wears and the sandals on his feet. And therefore, he has no power.’

  ‘Of course he has power!’ cried Flavia. ‘He’s probably just pretended to give his riches away. He’s tricked you!’

  Outside the walls of the villa, the gongs of Ephesus began to clang noon.

  ‘Calm down,’ said Bato, with his half smile. He took a scroll from his belt. I have a rather extraordinary document here. I’ll show it to you as soon as Nubia arrives.’

  Lupus grunted and pointed.

  They turned to see Nubia coming into the courtyard with Xanthia and Euodia. Each of them was holding a kitten.

  ‘Salve, Marcus Artorius Bato,’ said Nubia politely.

  ‘Salve, Nubia,’ he replied. ‘And Happy Birthday. I was just telling your friends I have some news for you. Will you sit?’

  Flavia, Nubia and the two little girls sat on a cedarwood bench in the shaded colonnade. Jonathan leaned against a column and Lupus pulled up a stool.

  ‘Mindius was a very rich man,’ said Bato. ‘He owned three villas and several warehouses full of carpets. In this document he donates all the carpets to the guild here in Ephesus. It seems that Daphne’s guild is not a collection of leather-workers, as I originally thought, but a congregation of those who follow The Way, your so-called Christians. He also says that I can claim two of the properties.’

  ‘He’s giving you two of his villas?’ said Jonathan.

  Flavia narrowed her eyes. ‘That sounds a lot like a bribe,’ she said. ‘Like that townhouse in Ostia you got for testifying against us!’

  Bato’s face grew pink. ‘It’s not a bribe. I can only keep these villas providing I run them as a refuge for orphaned and sick children.’

  ‘What about the third property?’ asked Jonathan.

  ‘He’s giving that to the four of you. Under the same conditions.’

  Flavia stared at Bato, open-mouthed. ‘Us? He’s giving one of his villas to us?’

  ‘As long as you take in kidnapped and orphaned children, and feed the poor. He wants to use his wealth for good.’

  ‘Which villa?’ asked Jonathan. ‘Which villa is he giving us?’

  ‘Whichever one you want. There is one in Ostia, one in Halicarnassus and this one, here in Ephesus. You get first choice. I take over the remaining two. I should tell you,’ he added. ‘The Ostia property includes revenue from the salt fields, the Halicarnassus one has some olive groves and this villa has a good-sized vineyard on Mount Coressus, beyond the town walls.’

  Lupus whistled in amazement.

  ‘But how does Mindius know us?’ said Nubia. ‘I have never even seen him.’

  ‘I told him about you,’ said Bato. ‘It was the least I could do after the um . . . court case last year. There’s only one condition. None of you is of age yet, so the estate must be in an adult’s name.’

  ‘Aristo?’ said Nubia.

  ‘Or Marcus Flavius Geminus,’ said Bato. ‘I’ve sent messengers to Rhodes and Halicarnassus to let him know you’re here in Ephesus.’

  ‘Praise Juno!’ cried Flavia, and added, ‘I hope they reach him soon.’

  ‘He should be here any day,’ said Bato. ‘In the meantime, do you have any idea which property you’d like to keep?’

  ‘Ostia, of course,’ said Flavia.

  ‘If we aren’t still wanted for treason,’ said Jonathan.

  ‘Oh! I forgot about that.’

  ‘What about this one?’ said Nubia softly. ‘The Villa Vinea?’

  ‘Yes! Stay!’ cried Xanthia and Euodia together, hopping up and down on the padded seat of the bench.

  ‘What about you, Lupus?’ asked Jonathan. ‘Where do you want to stay?’

  Lupus thought for a moment, then wrote: IF WE CAN’T GO HOME TO OSTIA, I LIKE IT HERE.

  Nubia’s birthday party had been a great success, with feasting and music and party games for all the children. It had continued even after sundown, and now it was the morning of the next day, the day some called the Lord’s Day. In honour of Nubia’s birthday, old John himself had come to take the service. Flavia imitated the posture of the others, with her face turned to the sky, her eyes closed tight and her hands lifted up. She was waiting for something to happen. Nubia said she had felt an intense heat from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Aristo said it felt like being washed clean. Lupus was always smiling these days. And Jonathan had a new calmness and serenity.

  But she felt nothing. Just a vague tingling in the palms of her hands.

  Flavia opened one eye and looked around. Everyone seemed lost in worship. Even Lupus was making a joyful noise with his tongueless mouth. The children seemed happy, too. Sapphira’s cheeks were wet but she had a smile on her face. Xanthia and Euodia were holding hands.

  Flavia closed her eyes again and waited.

  Nothing.

  She opened her eyes again, sighed loudly and glanced around. But nobody noticed, so she slipped out of the canal garden in the direction of the latrines, then hurried upstairs to her room. There, she put on her boy’s tunic and tucked her hair up into her sunhat and took the front stairs down to the atrium. One of Bato’s soldiers had been posted as a guard at the front door. He smiled and lifted the bolt and as the double doors closed behind her she heard it fall back into place.

  Flavia stood for a moment, leaning against one of the columns of the porch and letting the early morning sun warm her face. She could hear the faint sound of her friends worshipping inside but now a new sound attracted her attention. A rhythmic, solemn blend of flutes, drums and cymbals drew her down to the street that cut across the careful street grid of the town, down the hill towards the harbour. She knew its name now: the Embolos.

  When she reached it, she saw a procession of young priests and city officials passing by. They were carrying various statues of gold and silver, dazzling in the morning sun. She recognised a statue of Titus, and also one showing a young man spearing a boar. Flavia guessed it was Androclus, the young Athenian who had founded the city. As the last of the officials passed by, some members of the crowd moved into the street to join the procession.

  Beside Flavia, a young woman holding a pink parasol turned to go back up towards the terraced houses.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Flavia in her best Greek. ‘What’s happening?’

  The woman smiled and replied, but her Greek was so heavily accented that Flavia only understood the w
ords ‘procession’ and ‘Artemis’.

  ‘They’re going to the Temple of Artemis?’ asked Flavia.

  ‘Yes,’ said the young woman in her heavy accent. ‘Coming and going.’ She described a circle with her hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Flavia, and turned to gaze thoughtfully after the procession. She knew the great Temple of Artemis lay northeast of the city, a few miles outside the city walls. None of the others had wanted to visit the temple but she longed to see it. Why not now? She should be safe among the crowds and disguised as a boy.

  She pulled down the brim of her sunhat and moved out to join the others following behind. At the bottom of the Embolos, the procession turned right onto Stadium Street, and passed slowly between shaded colonnades and splashing fountains. Flavia follow the procession past the massive Harbour Agora on her left and the theatre on her right, carved into Mount Pion. Its upper parts were covered in scaffolding. There were signs of renovation and building everywhere. Ephesus was a prosperous city, big and growing bigger.

  Her heart beat faster as she passed the road which led down to the Market Basilica, where they had spent a night in the cells, but nobody was looking at her and presently she relaxed.

  The procession turned right past the stadium and approached the Coressian Gate. At this point many Ephesians stopped and turned to go back to their places of work. But with a flourish of flutes and cymbals, the priests and musicians carried on out through the gate. After only a moment’s hesitation, so did Flavia.

  The road leading out of the city was lined with tall dark cypress trees, and with the tombs of the dead. Behind the tombs were melon patches and peach orchards. Flavia stayed close behind a group of three women leading a goat. The musicians were still playing their strange rhythmic tune, and now Flavia could hear the priests chanting the name of Artemis. The sun blazed in the blue sky and a cool breeze ruffled her tunic. A bridge took them over a cheerful stream. Aristo had been teaching them about Ephesus, and Flavia knew it was only the brook called Marnas. The proper Cayster River was somewhere over to her left. And now the magnificent temple came into view up ahead, rising above the flat river plain. The sun gleamed on its red roof and painted columns.

  She remembered a report she had once done for Aristo on the Seven Sights. According to Pliny’s Natural History, the temple faced west, towards the sea. It contained a veritable forest of massive ionic columns – one hundred and twenty seven – some gilded and all of them carved.

  The roadside tombs stopped abruptly at this point and she guessed they were entering the temenos, the sacred precinct around the temple.

  As she approached the temple, she thought of Flaccus.

  ‘Oh, Floppy,’ she whispered. ‘I wish you were here with me. The Temple of Artemis is one of the Seven Sights and I know you wanted to see it.’

  Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Ephesus was not far from Halicarnassus, only two days by road. What if he had come to see the Temple? What if he was here now? Alone?

  Without Prudentilla by his side he would confess that he really loved Flavia and that he had only settled for someone else because he thought she was dead. He would agree to break his engagement to Prudentilla at once. Then he would take Flavia in his arms and kiss her and in a few years they would marry and their life together would be sublimely happy.

  Flavia passed the three women and their goat; they had turned to go up the steps of a large colonnaded structure; she knew it must contain the altar, for the Temple itself lay beyond. The goat bleated plaintively, as if it sensed its fate.

  The tail end of the procession was just disappearing inside and for a moment she stood, letting her head tip back as she took in the grandeur of the monument filling the sky above her. Slowly she mounted the marble steps and entered the forest of massive columns. The air between them was clouded with incense and the smell of it made her dizzy. From somewhere in the inner reaches came the faint sound of the flute and drums, no longer moving. The procession had found its destination.

  She could not enter the cella – it was filled with musicians, priests and statues – but she stopped to look at some of the smaller cult statues of the goddess outside. One in particular made her stare in amazement.

  This brightly painted statue showed the goddess wearing a tall hat, like a decorated beehive, and a floor-length robe covered with carved animals, including the signs of the Zodiac. Strangest of all, the goddess seemed to have two dozen breasts. Flavia wrinkled her nose in distaste; this Asian Artemis did not bear any resemblance to the proper Roman Diana.

  The thought of Diana reminded Flavia of the vow she had made nine months before: a vow to remain a virgin for her whole life and never marry. Maybe Diana was punishing her for going back on that vow. Maybe Diana was angry that she wanted to marry Flaccus.

  Suddenly Flavia had an idea: she would make Aristo’s leap of faith and test Jonathan’s god. If he could heal the sick and bring people back from the dead, he could certainly do one little thing for her.

  Heart pounding, Flavia closed her eyes and prayed. ‘Dear god of Jonathan, if you are really powerful enough to raise a man from the dead, please make Flaccus be here right now, and make him love me.’

  She concentrated very hard, and with her eyes closed, she could easily visualise him: his glossy dark hair and long-lashed dark eyes, his white teeth and smooth tanned skin. She knew his lips would taste like mastic and be very soft. She opened her eyes, and looked around expectantly, her heart pounding.

  Perhaps he would appear from behind this very statue and take her in his arms.

  But he didn’t, and although she wandered among the massive columns for almost an hour, she couldn’t find him.

  And when she got back to the villa, over two hours after she had left, her friends were still singing and praising.

  They hadn’t even noticed her absence.

  In his vision he sees a celestial battle.

  The sky is cobalt blue and full of stars. The whole of the Zodiac is there, as if inked in light on the inside of a vast bowl. Virgo. Leo. Aquarius. Stars pursue and confront each other with terrible purpose across this apocalyptic background.

  Then he sees something new.

  Against a backdrop of dying stars, two brothers are struggling. Like Jacob and Esau. Castor and Pollux. Romulus and Remus. Dark against Light. Good against Evil. Ice against Fire.

  A crescent moon – blood red and unimaginably huge –sinks in the west. And in the east a comet appears, its tail flaming, destroying stars as it goes.

  Jonathan woke with a gasp, the images from his dream fresh in his mind. For the first time, he understood the meaning.

  ‘It’s not about Flavia,’ he whispered. ‘It’s about Titus and Domitian. The oracle said that whoever possessed “Nero’s Eye” would rule Rome. That is its real value. Domitian wanted it for himself because he wants to be emperor.’

  He sat up and looked at the dim wall opposite, flickering in the light of a tiny oil-lamp.

  ‘What if Titus’s headaches aren’t what they seem?’ he said to himself. ‘What if Domitian is slowly poisoning him?’

  Jonathan pulled back the sheet and quietly rose to his feet. The dim night-light showed Lupus fast asleep on his own bed. His legs were tangled in a sheet, but his face looked calm and at peace. Jonathan glanced up at the small high window. Beyond the iron grille, the sky was black, but somewhere in the distance a cock was crowing. He guessed it was still a few hours until dawn.

  He looked back down at Lupus. ‘I wish you could come with me,’ he whispered to his sleeping friend. ‘But it’s too dangerous. And this is part of my new life.’

  Quietly he took Lupus’s wax tablet from the bedside table, and he began to write.

  Someone was poking Flavia.

  ‘Mmmph!’ she said. ‘What is it?’ She turned over to see who was prodding her.

  ‘Lupus!’ she muttered. ‘Go back to sleep. It’s still night.’

  Lupus left her and she rolled over and snuggled her h
ead into the pillow. Then she heard Lupus grunting and Nubia’s voice asking, ‘What is wrong?’

  Flavia groaned and sat up. Nubia was holding Lupus’s wax tablet up to the little night oil-lamp.

  After a moment she looked up at Flavia, her eyes dark gold in the dim light. ‘It is Jonathan,’ she said. ‘He is gone.’

  Jonathan ben Mordecai, to his friends Flavia, Nubia and Lupus, and to his tutor Aristo.

  By the time you read this I will be gone. Don’t be upset that I didn’t say goodbye. You probably would have tried to convince me not to go. And you might have succeeded. But this is something I have to do.

  For the past few weeks I have been having dreams. Or visions. I’m not sure what they are. I only know they have been getting stronger and stronger, especially a dream of a spiritual battle in the constellation of Gemini. I have had this dream several times. Tonight I had it again and I finally think I know what it means: Titus is in danger from his brother Domitian.

  Once I tried to kill Titus. Now I have a chance to make it right and I think God is calling me to do this. I am going to go to Rome to warn Titus and to help if I can. Please don’t follow me. It will be very dangerous. If I reach Titus I will try to explain about the warrant for our arrest and get him to revoke it. Then you will be able to come home again.

  In the meantime, stay in Ephesus, so that I will know where to find you.

  I pray that you will all stay happy and healthy and that one day I will see you again. Shalom.

  P.S. I don’t hear the voice anymore.

  P.P.S. Erase this message once you have read it.

  Nubia patted Flavia on the back. Her friend was weeping.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ sobbed Flavia. ‘He’s gone without us. How could he do that? We’re a team! The old Jonathan wouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘He does not want to endanger us,’ said Nubia softly.

  ‘But now Jonathan will be in danger!’

  ‘What can we do?’ said a voice from the door. Nubia looked up to see Aristo, looking tousled and handsome in the lamplight.