Unto Caesar
CHAPTER XXVI
"There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked."--ISAIAHXLVIII. 22.
When after a few hours of light and troubled sleep Dea Flavia woke topartial consciousness, it seemed to her as if Phoebus Apollo had beendriving his chariot through a sea of blood; for through the folds of thecurtains over the windows she caught a glimpse of the sky, and it was ofvivid crimson.
The heat was oppressive, and as the young girl tossed with everincreasing restlessness on the pillows, beads of moisture rose on herforehead and matted the fair curls against her temples.
She felt too tired to get up, even though she vaguely marvelled howwonderful must be the dawn, since its reflection was of such luridcolour. She lay back drowsy and with nerves tingling; she closed hereyes for they ached and burned intolerably.
Gradually to her half-aroused consciousness sounds too began topenetrate. It seemed to her that the usual stately quietude of her housewas gravely disturbed this morning, shuffling footsteps could be heardmoving across the atrium, voices--scarce subdued--were whisperingaudibly, and the shouts of the overseers echoed from across theperistyle, and through it all a dull, monotonous sound, distant as yetand faint, came at long intervals, the sound of Jove's thunder over theCampania far away.
Dea Flavia listened more intently, and one by one through the veil whichkindly sleep had drawn over her memory, the events of the past day andnight knocked at the portals of her brain.
She remembered everything now, and with this sudden onrush of memory ofthe past, came fuller consciousness of the present.
Through the hum of varied noises which filled her own house, shedistinguished presently more strange, more ominous sounds that came fromafar, like the thunders of Jove, and like them sounded weird andthreatening in her ear; hoarse cries and shouts which seemed likeperemptory commands, and groans that rose above the muffled din withcalls of terror and of pain.
In a moment Dea Flavia had put her feet to the ground. She ran to thewindow, drew back the curtains and peered into the narrow street which,at this point, separated her house from the rear of the Palace ofTiberius.
A dull grey light enveloped the city in its mantle of gloom, and it wasnot the torch of Phoebus which had spread the rosy gleam of dawn overthe sky! As Dea Flavia looked, she saw a canopy of dull crimson over herhead, and from beyond the Palace of Tiberius there rose at intervalsheavy banks of purple smoke.
Dea Flavia stood there for one moment at the window, paralysed with thedread of what she saw and of what she guessed, and even as a cry ofhorror died within her throat, Licinia, with grey hair flying looselyround her pale face, and hands held out before her with an agonisedgesture of fear, came running into the room.
"The miscreants! the miscreants!" she shouted as she threw herself downon to the floor before her young mistress and squatted there on herheels, wringing her hands and uttering moans of terror. "They have setfire to the palace! They are on us, my beloved! Save thyself! Save thyhouse! Oh ye gods! protect us all!"
The awesome news which Licinia thus blurted out was but a confirmationof what Dea had already feared. Every drop of blood within her seemed toturn to ice, horror gripped her heart, the oncoming catastrophe appearedsuddenly before her, vivid, swift and inevitable. But she contrived tosteady her voice and to appear outwardly calm as she said:
"I do not understand thee, Licinia, speak more clearly. What is it thathath happened?"
"The rabble are invading the Palatine," said Licinia, to theaccompaniment of many groans. "They are on us I tell thee."
"On us!" retorted Dea Flavia scornfully. "Tush, woman! they'll not heedus.... But the Caesar ... Hast news of the Caesar?"
"No! no! my beloved, I have no news. I only know what the watchmen say."
"What do they say?"
"That the rabble is invading the hill. The miscreants have forced theirway into the Forum. They have surrounded the palace of the Caesar and setfire within its precincts."
"Ye gods!..." exclaimed Dea Flavia.
"Dost hear their shouts? the villains! the villains! Dost hear Jove'sthunder, my beloved? His vengeance is nigh! May his curse descend on thevillains and on their children."
"Silence, woman!" commanded the Augusta peremptorily. "Get me arobe--quickly--no, no! not that one," she added, as Licinia, withtrembling hands had snatched up the gorgeous jewel-studded gown whichDea Flavia had worn the day before, "a dark robe--haste, I tell thee! gothou fetch it and send Blanca quickly to me."
Moaning and trembling, the woman endeavoured to obey and to make asmuch speed as her limbs, paralysed with terror, would allow her. Shecalled to Blanca, who together with the Augusta's tire-women had herquarters close at hand, and the young girl hastened to her mistress'sroom whilst Licinia went in search of a dark-coloured robe.
"The praefect?" whispered Dea Flavia quickly, as soon as she feltassured that she was quite alone with her slave. "Hast seen Dion orNolus?"
"My brother spoke to me in the atrium just now, gracious mistress,"replied Blanca, who seemed scarce less excited than her mistress, "heand Dion heard a thud in the night, which roused them from a brief sleepwhich they had snatched, for they were very tired ... their long hunt inthe Amphitheatre...."
"Yes! yes! go on! I know that they slept ... and they heard a thud ...what was it?"
"They ran to the resting-chamber, gracious lady, and found the praefectof Rome lying senseless on the floor."
"Great Mother!... and what did they do?"
"They lifted him as best they could; for the praefect is over tall andmightily powerful. But they succeeded in laying him back on to thecouch, and Dion ran to rouse the physician."
"And now?"
"The physician hath given the praefect a drug to make him sleep, for itseems that fever was upon him with the pain of his wounds and he talkedincoherently like one bereft of reason."
"Hush!..." interrupted Dea Flavia hurriedly, "not before Licinia."
Even as she spoke the old woman returned, carrying a robe of dove greycloth, the darkest one that she could find. She had collected thetire-women round her, and they flocked in her wake like frightened sheepthat have been driven into a pen. Licinia herself was evidently the preyof abject terror, for her teeth were chattering, and all the while thatshe helped her mistress to make a hasty toilet, she uttered low moans asif she were in pain.
"The traitors! the miscreants!" she murmured at intervals.
But Dea Flavia paid no heed to her. Her women had brought her freshwater, perfumes and fine cloths, and she was hastily bathing her faceand hands. Then, she slipped on the dull-coloured robe and Licinia'strembling fingers fastened a girdle round her waist.
And all the while, from far away, came the dull sound of Jove's thundershurled by his wrath, and above it as a constant din, like the roaring ofa tempestuous sea, the hoarse cries which--borne upon the wings of theoncoming storm--seemed to gain distinctness as their echo reached thisdistant house.
"Dost hear the cries, Blanca?" asked Dea Flavia, as the young slave,leaning out of the narrow window tried to peer out into the street.
"I hear them, gracious lady," replied the girl in an awed whisper.
"And canst distinguish any words?"
"Aye, one word, gracious lady ... Hark!"
And that word sent its dismal echo even to Dea Flavia's ear.
"Death!"
Then Blanca uttered a terrified scream and quickly drew away from thewindow; from beyond the Palace of Tiberius, there where the new Palaceof Caligula reared its gigantic marble pillars above the temples below,a huge column of flames had shot upwards to the sky. And a cry, louderthan before and more distinct, came clearly from afar.
"Death to the Caesar! Death!"
"Ye gods protect him," murmured Dea Flavia fervently.
"They'll murder him! they'll murder him!" shouted Licinia at the top ofher trembling voice.
She had fallen on her knees and the other women squatted round her likea huddled-up mass of terror-stricken humanity, w
ith hair undone andpale, quivering lips and staring eyes dilated with fear.
But Dea Flavia, now that she was dressed, took no further notice ofthem; she left them there on the floor, moaning and whimpering, andhurried out into the atrium. Here too the sense of terror filled theair. Beyond the colonnaded arcade in the corridors and the peristylecould be seen groups of slaves--men and women--squatting together withhead meeting head in eager gossip, or clinging to one another in a stateof abject cowardice.
Here too, through the open vestibule, the sounds from the streets camelouder and more clear. That awful cry of "Death" echoed with appallingdistinctness, and to Dea Flavia's strained senses it seemed as if theywere mingled with others, more awesome mayhap, but equally ominous of"The praefect of Rome! Where is the praefect of Rome! Hail! TaurusAntinor! Hail."
The noise grew louder and louder, and from where she stood now--itseemed to her that she could trace in her mind the progress of therebels, as they spread themselves from the foot of the Palatine and fromthe Forum, upwards to the heights until they had the palace of the Caesarcompletely surrounded.
It was from there that weird cries of terror came incessantly, and inimagination Dea saw an army of cowardly, panic-stricken slaves, huddledtogether as her own women had been, with palsied limbs and chatteringteeth, whilst a handful of faithful men of the praetorian guard werealone left to protect the sacred person of the Caesar.
Above her, through the apertures in the tiled roof, she could see thesky aglow with lurid crimson, and the smell of burning wood and ofcharred stuffs filled her nostrils with their pungent odour.
"Death to the Caesar! Death!" The cry seemed almost at her door. Only thePalace of Tiberius, with its great empty halls and basilicas stoodbetween her and the rallying-point of the rebels.
She called loudly for Tertius--her comptroller--and he came runningalong from the slaves' quarters with an army of howling men and women athis heels.
"What news, Tertius?" she demanded. "Hast heard?"
"They have surrounded the Caesar's palace," said Tertius excitedly, "anddemand his presence."
"Oh! the sacrilege!..." she exclaimed, "and what doth the Caesar?"
"He will not appear, and his guards charge the mob as they advanceupwards from the Forum. They have invaded the temple of Castor, andalready some are swarming in the vestibules of the palace. The guard arebehind the colonnades and were holding the crowd at bay with fairsuccess until...."
"Until?" she asked.
"Until some of the rebels skirting the palace, set fire to the slaves'quarters in the rear. The flames are spreading. The Caesar will be forcedto face the people, an he doth not mean to be buried beneath thecrumbling walls of his palace!"
"The miscreants have set fire to the palace of the Caesars?" sheexclaimed.
"Alas!" replied the man, "they will force the Caesar to show himself tothem. And they loudly demand the praefect of Rome."
"The praefect of Rome?"
"Aye, gracious lady. The people had thought that the Caesar killed him;some strove, it seems, to recover his body in the imperial tribune,where he was seen to fall. But the body had disappeared, and the rumourhath gained ground that the Caesar had it thrown to his dogs."
"It's not true," she cried out involuntarily.
"No, gracious lady. Men of sense do know that it is not true. But aninfuriated mob hath no sense. It is like an overgrown child, withthousands of irresponsible limbs. It is tossed hither and thither,swayed by the wind of a chance word. But it were as well, mayhap, if itwere true."
"Silence, Tertius, how canst say such a thing."
"I think of the Caesar, gracious lady," rejoined the man simply, "and ofthee. If the mob found the praefect of Rome now alive or dead, thensurely would they murder the Caesar and make of the praefect theirEmperor if he lived, their god if he were dead."
And as if to confirm the man's words, the morning breeze wafted throughthe air the prolonged and insistent cry:
"Taurus Antinor! Hail!"
With a curt word, Dea dismissed her comptroller, and he went, followedby his train of shrieking men and women.
She remained a while silent and alone in the atrium, while the moaningsof the slaves and Tertius' rough admonitions to them died away in thedistance.
"If the mob found the praefect of Rome now alive or dead," she murmured,"then surely would they murder the Caesar and make of the praefect theirEmperor if he lived, their god if he were dead!"
Dea Flavia cast a quick glance all round her. The atrium itself wasdeserted, even though from every side beyond its colonnaded arcade camethe sound of many voices and those persistent, cowardly groanings whichset the young girl's nerves tingling and caused her heart to sink withinher, with the presage of impending doom.
Only in the vestibule the watchmen sat alert and prepared to guard theAugusta's house; they were gossiping among themselves and seemed theonly men in the place who were not wholly panic-stricken.
The hum of their voices sounded quite reassuring in the midst of thesenseless groans of terror which came from the women's quarters near theAugusta's rooms, as well as from the men in the more remote parts of thehouse.
After that brief moment of hesitation Dea went resolutely toward thestudio. She crossed its small vestibule and pushed open the door.
Dion was sitting there on guard as the Augusta had commanded. He rosewhen she entered.
"The praefect?" she asked hurriedly.
"He sleeps," replied the man.
"Art sure?"
"I peeped in but a few moments ago. His eyes are closed. I think that hesleeps."
"I would wish to make sure," she said curtly.
Too well-trained, or mayhap too indifferent to show surprise at sostrange a desire on the part of the great and gracious Augusta, Dionstood aside respectfully to allow her to pass, then he followed her tothe door of the inner room and held aside the heavy curtain, whilst sheput her hand upon the latch.
"Dion," she said, turning back to him, "yesterday I gave thee thyfreedom, since thou didst serve me well."
"Aye, gracious lady," replied the man as he bent the knee in submissiverespect, "and I would kiss thy feet for this, thy graciousness."
"When the city is once more at peace, we'll before the quaestor, andthou and Nolus and Blanca shall all be declared free. But to-day thouart still my slave and must obey me in all things."
"As thou dost command, gracious lady."
"Then, 'tis silence that I do enjoin on thee, Dion," she said earnestly,"silence as to the praefect's presence in my house, until I bid theespeak: on pain of death, Dion, for thou art still my slave."
"I understand, gracious lady."
"Then wait for me now and on peril of thy life allow no one to enter."
But scarce had these words crossed her lips than there rose from theatrium behind her a series of weird sounds, cries, and imprecations,calls for the Augusta and curses on her slaves, as from one who isbereft of reason and screams in his madness.
"The Caesar!" she murmured, as white to the lips now, she stood rigid bythe door whilst her hand fell from the latch.
"Augusta! Augusta!" came the hoarse cries from the atrium, and thehideous, familiar sound of leather thongs whistling through the airreached her straining senses.
She put a finger to her lips, with a quick peremptory gesture to Dion,then she recrossed the studio with a firm step and the curtains of theinner door fell back behind her with a swish.
The next moment she was standing in the atrium facing Caligula, theCaesar.