Suddenly he heard a booming voice; a roar so deep and guttural, it did not sound human. It was Lucius. He bellowed at the vultures, his face turning crimson. It was effective. For just a second, the birds hesitated – allowing Lucius to seize one by its neck. It shrieked, choking, beating its wings wildly. Lucius squeezed harder, teeth clenched, forcing the life out of it, until finally it went limp and he let it fall to the floor.
The last bird attacked with renewed fury, claws raking Jake’s face and seeking a purchase on his back. Jake smashed the bracelet against the ceiling to open it. As the casing fell away, a tiny crimson cloud escaped, before dissolving into the air. It was enough: the vulture breathed it in; then its claws loosened and it fell, unconscious, to the floor.
Jake looked up at Lucius, who nodded, the glimmer of a smile on his face.
Then crack!
The wood gave way above, the silver dart about to rip itself out. Jake felt his stomach lurch and instantly thrust the shovel up through the skylight, hooking the edge of the blade through the bars as the wire snapped free and spun away below them. Lucius, with any strength he had left, managed to grab hold of the frame, unlatch the bars, then haul himself through and pull Jake up behind him.
For a while they lay motionless on the roof, their chests heaving up and down, before Jake turned to his companion. ‘We need to go. Now.’
Four hundred miles south of the city of Rome, in the villa overlooking the port of Messina, Jupitus Cole was woken by the tip of a rusty harpoon softly digging into his cheek. He opened his eyes and peered up at Rose, who was standing over him with a face like thunder, brandishing the weapon.
‘Rosalind, why are you pointing a fish hook at me?’ he asked calmly.
‘Because it was the first weapon I could find,’ she snapped.
Jupitus examined her more carefully – her rigid stance and gritted teeth. ‘I usually find a cup of tea is a better way to start the day,’ he replied in his most velvety tones, moving the point away with his little finger.
‘If you move so much as an inch,’ she told him, ‘I will kill you!’ To make herself clear, she thrust the harpoon further into Jupitus’s throat.
Jupitus made an elaborate show of freezing like a statue. ‘Did I forget your birthday?’ he purred.
‘Operation Black Lotus – what is it?’
He chuckled. ‘What?’
‘Jupitus Cole, I am not joking – I will cut your throat if I have to. You are unable to walk, remember. You do not stand a chance. Operation Black Lotus,’ she repeated. ‘What is it?’
He stared at her and shrugged. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘I just received an urgent Meslith from Galliana,’ Rose continued, producing a parchment and waving it at him.
‘Girl’s talk?’
Rose suddenly brought the harpoon down with a thump onto the pillow, before pointing it at Jupitus’s neck again. ‘She’s found your secret room. Yours and Oceane’s little hideaway,’ she spat.
Jupitus frowned, then stared up at Rose with flinty eyes. Finally he said in a quiet voice, ‘It’s nothing to do with Oceane. She was just picking up messages for me.’
Rose gasped, practically hyperventilating with the shock. ‘So it’s true? You are actually in cahoots with Xi Xiang?’
‘It’s a little more complicated than that—’
‘Complicated?! There are more than a hundred communications between the two of you!’ Rose was pushing the harpoon into his neck so hard, it pierced the skin. ‘Xi Xiang is one of our most hated enemies. Do I need to remind you that he butchered Galliana’s husband, along with her only child? That he tied weights to the boy’s feet and threw him off his ship? And you are plotting with him? You are a monster, Jupitus!’
Jupitus watched her, showing neither fear, nor anger, nor even guilt, but only the profoundest pity. He waited for her to calm down and then spoke in a soothing voice. ‘Rose, listen to me. You may not believe what I tell you now, but it is the truth.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I have a secret room at Point Zero, from where I have communicated with Xi Xiang.’
This brought only sobs from Rose. Jupitus carried on softly, ‘As you remember, Rose, Xiang and I, years ago, used to be friends.’
‘Of course I remember! How could I forget?’
‘But for nearly two decades we did not speak. Two years ago, a chance encounter brought us together in Tibet, in a distant corner of the Zhou dynasty. It was an extraordinary coincidence, nothing else, but I saw an opportunity and I took it.’
‘What opportunity?’
‘I pretended that I was disillusioned with the History Keepers, that I wanted a new life.’
‘You pretended?’
‘I became, in effect, a double agent, a spy, passing on “secrets” from Point Zero. Nothing important, nothing that would affect anyone, but enough to make Xiang believe that I was on his side and take me into his confidence.’
‘If you were really a double agent, why didn’t you tell Galliana?’
‘You know why. Galliana can think straight about everything but Xi Xiang. It is her Achilles’ heel. She would have closed down the operation immediately.’
Rose shrugged, reluctantly agreeing.
‘Finally my work started to pay off,’ Jupitus continued. ‘The Black Lotus is the name of a project Xiang has been working on for years. Even now, I have only the sketchiest details. He was about to pass on vital information when the trail suddenly went completely cold. I have heard nothing from him since I left for London months ago, and have no idea where he is or whether he is alive or dead. The day we set sail for Italy, I asked Oceane Noire to check my secret bureau twice a day, in case anything had come through.’
Rose did not take the harpoon away, but she let it drop slightly.
‘And Rosalind,’ Jupitus continued, looking at her very seriously, ‘I have to say, it felt good to be doing something important again. To be back in the game. It’s the young ones who have all the excitement. We’re nothing more than pen pushers these days.’
The phrase struck a chord with Rose. She smiled sadly and mulled over everything he had said. ‘So Oceane Noire is just working for you?’ she asked.
‘Do you know why I proposed to Oceane?’
‘I haven’t the slightest idea.’ Rose put her nose in the air. ‘I assumed she’d put a voodoo spell on you.’
‘Because she told me that if I didn’t ask her to marry me, she’d tell everyone I was spying for Xi Xiang – and prove it. I’d worked too hard on the operation to give it up then.’
Rose felt another rush of emotion and tears came to her eyes. ‘You – you mean,’ she stammered, ‘you don’t love Oceane Noire?’
It was something that rarely happened, but Jupitus’s eyes twinkled and his mouth curled into the warmest, most beautiful smile. ‘Rosalind, how could you think such a thing?’
21 CIRCUS MAXIMUS!
‘THERE SHE IS,’ said Charlie, peering out from the shadows. ‘Isn’t she just breathtaking?’
Topaz and Nathan nodded in agreement, the latter, for once, struck dumb. They were huddled in a portico in a dark corner of a long square that was packed with people. The boys were already wearing Charlie’s disguises; beards and moustaches that made them look much older – in particular Nathan’s, which was thick and black. Topaz had pulled her hair back and half hidden her face under the hood of her cape.
The object of their attention was the vast building at the far end of the square, towards which the crowd was hurrying.
The Circus Maximus.
They were facing its immense rear end, its northwestern facade, and up close for the first time they could see that, even by the standards of ancient Rome, the building was a monster. Each of the two giant towers was surmounted by a striking golden statue of galloping horses and god-like charioteers, at least five times life size. The towers were connected by a series of twelve enormous arches, through which Charlie and the others could just glimpse the interior
of the arena – tier upon tier of white marble, gleaming in the morning sun as the population of Rome packed themselves in.
‘Can you hear it?’ Nathan asked, uncharacteristically spooked. He was referring to the unearthly roar that came from within the walls – like the sound of a great wave, crashing over and over.
‘That’ll be a hundred and fifty thousand people taking their seats,’ Charlie explained with a twinkle in his eye.
It had taken them nearly an hour to get here from the Roman bureau and their clothes were now almost dry (it was barely nine in the morning but stifling already). They had waded through the tunnel before arriving, as Charlie had predicted, at the baths of Agrippa. Then, after being forced to swim underwater, they were deposited in a fountain at the end of the frigidarium – the large outdoor pool. Three young ladies walking on the grass nearby had nearly fainted at the sight of the youngsters arising from amongst the marble sea nymphs, shaking the water off and strolling towards the exit; but they were revived by one of Nathan’s trademark winks.
From the baths, they had made their way watchfully down narrow streets towards the Tiber. They had paused briefly in a quiet cul-de-sac to get their breath back. Here Topaz told them about Jake’s note and they had discussed what he might have meant by I’ve gone to sort it out. They had come to the painful conclusion that he had set off to Agata’s villa to save Lucius. They had all felt a twinge of apprehension. Topaz, in particular, had felt sick with remorse; she wished she had not scolded him so sternly the night before. After all, it was clear that, while Jake sometimes didn’t do the right thing, he always did the brave thing.
To lighten the mood and keep everyone focused, Charlie had produced his bag of tricks and, after a debate as to who would look better in a black beard (Topaz reluctantly had to concede that it suited her brother better), they prepared to set off again.
‘I think Mr Drake may have to stay here . . .’ Topaz had pointed out delicately. ‘I mean, if we’re to keep as low a profile as possible.’
Charlie had not been happy, but of course he saw the logic. He set him carefully on a branch of a nearby pine tree with a handful of peanuts – along with whispered promises to be back soon, which he dearly hoped to keep.
From here they had doubled back along the river, past the temple of Hercules, across the Forum Boarium to the Circus itself.
‘Shall we . . .?’ said Nathan, cautiously stepping out of the portico and around the perimeter of the square. The others followed, looking around, double checking that no one was following. Once again they joined the stream of people hurrying towards the side entrances.
‘The first thing you need to know about the Circus Maximus,’ Charlie explained in a low voice, ‘is that it is, without question, the prime destination of the Roman world. All roads lead here. From the storm-tossed shores of Hispania in the west to the deserts of Assyria in the east, its fame is unparalleled. It’s epic, heroic, gargantuan,’ he added, emphasizing each word with a shake of his clenched fist. ‘It is a dream factory. The quintessence of the empire.’
Nathan and Topaz exchanged a knowing glance, enjoying their friend’s enthusiasm despite their predicament. Indeed, Charlie was so excited about his visit to the stadium that, for a moment, he forgot about their dire situation: completely in the dark, aware that a catastrophe that could end dominions was about to unfold, but knowing nothing of what it might be or when it would take place.
‘And the reason it’s the prime destination of the Roman world? Well, obviously there’s the building itself,’ he continued. ‘The largest stadium the planet has ever seen, or indeed will ever see. Capacity – a hundred and fifty thousand; construction – two hundred thousand tonnes of marble; timber from half a million trees.’ The building loomed closer. ‘And that’s just the current version; in its four-hundred-year history it has already – rather carelessly – been burned down three times. That’s why Augustus built this version in marble.’ Charlie shook his head. ‘So the place itself is a big enough lure, but it’s what goes on here that really pulls the crowds.’
‘The chariot racing?’ Topaz offered.
‘That’s right. The Romans are fanatically, ridiculously obsessed with it. Obviously loads of other stuff happens here: wild-beast hunts, gladiatorial combat – you know, of course, that the Colosseum won’t be built until the end of the century – athletic competitions, even theatrical events and musical recitals. But those are just distractions. The main event, the really big draw, is the chariot racing.’
The hullaballoo coming from the stadium increased, and by the time they had reached the southeastern corner, the roar was deafening – exhilarating and unsettling in equal measure.
They could now see along the side of the building: a vast precipice of arches upon arches upon arches disappearing far into the hazy distance of the city. The people were flocking from all directions, pouring out of every street and passageway; white togas and brown tunics surged into the honeycomb of entrances, chattering excitedly. Some were chanting and singing; others swigging from clay bottles, all cheered on by locals watching from their windows. To add to the cacophony, hundreds of street vendors plied their trade: flower-merchants, incense-sellers, jugglers, fire-eaters, fortune tellers and astrologers.
‘It’s free, you see, and everyone is invited,’ Charlie explained, raising his voice above the clamour. ‘And there are games on at least a hundred days of the year. It must be a logistical nightmare!’
Briefly Topaz was separated from the others and had to push her way forward again. Charlie was right: it seemed as if all of Rome was there – men, women, young, old, rich and poor. Throngs of children darted through the crowds, while the old made their way more sedately.
At length the three agents were swept along through an arched entrance and bumped, shoved and elbowed up a winding stone staircase. In the chaos, Topaz couldn’t stop thinking about Jake. She was tormented by visions of what Agata, the she-devil, her so-called mother, might do to him.
At the top of the stairs they were jostled forward, and finally squeezed out into the arena. As a wave of cheers echoed around them, Nathan’s heart soared and he had to remind himself that the applause wasn’t actually for him. He gazed from one end of the Circus to the other, a faint, incredulous smile on his face. Topaz blinked in disbelief, while Charlie stared in awe. In the course of their work for the History Keepers’ Secret Service they had seen countless wonders, but this was perhaps the most astonishing of all.
The arena was almost half a mile long from end to end. A vast man-made basin stretched between the Palatine and the Aventine, whose slopes were also teeming with spectators. There were six levels of seating. The bottom tier, edged by a balustrade and separated from the track by a deep drainage gulley, was the widest and contained the largest quantity of white – the colour worn by the richest citizens. From here the levels rose up, the rake gentle at first, but steepening dramatically towards the top. The higher you went, the noisier and more tightly packed the tiers. Charlie calculated that the top one alone, which looked miles away, must have held more than fifty thousand people. Its colonnade, punctuated by column after column, would have been an incredible structure in its own right, let alone as a crowning afterthought to the rest.
Running down the centre of the arena was the spina, the stone island that divided the track in two. ‘Grisly fact . . .’ Charlie announced. ‘According to legend, it was originally made of the crushed bones of Rome’s enemies.’
The whole island was teeming with men in white, purple-edged togas; more were climbing up onto it.
‘The senators, I take it?’ asked Nathan.
Charlie nodded. ‘Whether they like it or not, they’re expected to attend. It’s considered bad form not to be seen supporting the games.’
‘And a no-show would be kind of obvious,’ Nathan commented. ‘They are rather the centre of attention.’ He was right: all eyes were on them, a distinct, bright band of white and purple rising out of the sand. Some of
the senators waved at the crowd; others chatted in groups as slaves offered them drinks from silver jugs.
Amongst the throng of senators, the spina also sported a number of intriguing monuments: at each end stood clusters of golden spiked cones, three times the size of a human, and, in the centre, a giant Egyptian obelisk. ‘Looted from the court of Rameses the Second and now considered one of the wonders of Rome,’ Topaz informed the others.
‘And the emperor sits there, I take it?’ Nathan pointed to the terrace in front of the pulvinar, the distinctive temple that jutted out halfway along the track. An empty throne – an enormous seat of white alabaster – was set beneath a bright red awning. Golden statues of eagles guarded each corner of the terrace, and flames flickered from a host of bronze torches.
‘That’s right,’ Charlie agreed. ‘The royal terrace is accessed by its own special passageway, which leads directly from the villas on the Palatine.’
‘So they don’t have to mix with the riff-raff, I suppose,’ Nathan said.
‘Let’s go then,’ suggested Topaz. ‘I take it our emperor will be arriving at any minute, so we should approach – with caution of course.’ She set off in the direction of the pulvinar. Apart from anything else, she needed to get thoughts of Jake out of her head. She kept thinking about Alan and Miriam and how she was going to explain his disappearance. The other two followed, threading their way through the crowd.
Suddenly the three of them were cloaked in shadow; it crept along the tiers of seating, darkening a great swathe of the arena. They looked up to see a roof canopy – a series of long white sails – being drawn across the top of the stadium by a network of ropes. Charlie shook his head and muttered something about the ‘stunning technical pizzazz’ as the senators in the centre were enveloped in welcome shade.
History Keepers: Circus Maximus Page 25