threaded their way back along to the entrance arches.
Karen giggled. 'You are funny,' she said, and then thought of what they had seen. 'Did you enjoy that?'
He stared at her with disgust in his eyes. 'Enjoy it? Don't say.'
'No, I hated it too. Why do they do it?'
He shrugged. 'They're so sated with the pleasures their money buys them that nothing else pleases them. By the way, if you thought this morning's entertainment was bad, you're going to hate this afternoon's. Those prisoners you saw in the procession will be fed to the lions.'
Karen shuddered. She had heard about people being thrown to specially hungry lions; now, faced with the prospect of actually seeing it, she felt sick and frightened. There seemed to be no way of escaping, however, and she knew she would have to pretend afterwards that she had enjoyed it. If only she had pleaded a headache or something before they came! No, that would do no good; the Lady Julia would certainly not let her go home now. She determined just to look at other people around her instead of at the arena.
The entrance arches were crowded with people buying and selling refreshments, each hawker trying to shout louder than the last. Gallus and Karen disengaged themselves with difficulty from the clutches of a huge man determined to sell them some oranges, and bought two earthenware jars of wine from an elderly Greek.
They went back to their seats as quickly as possible in the milling crowds, but of course they were not quick enough for Julia. Still, even she was pacified when a glass of wine had revived her.
Another fanfare announced that the shows were about to recommence. All round the arena gates slid open, and the Jewish prisoners were pushed through. They were a pathetic sight, some of them lame, with ulcers and boils, all dressed in filthy tatters of clothing. From the other side twenty lions and a few tigers came in, and there was a murmur from the crowd.
The animals were in beautiful condition, but their bellies were shrunken and lean, indicating that they had been previously starved to make them savage. Now they loped into the sunlight and switched their tails angrily, and a low growl came up from the ring.
A lioness struck first. She picked out a young boy standing near an older woman, and ran at him, knocking him over. The woman screamed and ran away, but another lion bounded after her and threw her to the ground. The crowd laughed. This had sparked off the rest of the animals, and similar scenes were being enacted elsewhere. The frightened people had bunched together, and one or two men were trying to fight the lions, but without
much success. An angry lion tore a man's arm off at the elbow, and ran about the arena carrying the grisly trophy in his mouth.
Karen recoiled in horror and tried to stop her ears to the dreadful sounds coming up from the arena. She looked at the couple on her left.
The girl was on the edge of her seat, a smile of sadistic pleasure on her face, and the boy had moved close to her and his arm had crept around her waist. She snuggled close to him and let him fondle her while below lives were being thrown away. Karen turned aside, disgusted.
Later on there were animal turns, and Karen suffered as much as the beasts because she loved animals. Antelope, ostriches, wild boar and wild cattle, all were sent in to kill or be killed, and when the crowd had watched their fill ten leopards joined them. They made short work of the vainly fleeing antelope, while the wild boar turned on the ostriches and the bulls defended themselves bravely against the rest.
Archers then ran in, and began to shoot down the remaining animals. There was one standing at the front who, after taking careful aim, shot one of the bulls through the head, killing it instantly. The crowd applauded, and the archer started on a wild boar.
There were similar shows throughout the rest of the afternoon, but finally, as the shadows began to lengthen across the sand, people began to leave.
Julia yawned. 'Well, well,' she said, 'I must say I thought the games were quite good today, don't you agree, Lucius?'
'Not bad,' he drawled. 'I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a meal. We'll go home.'
All the way back Gaius never stopped talking about the show, going over every grisly detail until Karen thought she would scream, though Lucius seemed to like hearing his son talk that way. Lucilla, however, was very quiet. She held tightly to Karen's hand and spoke little, in a small voice.
‘You didn't like that, did you, Karen?'
Karen thought she might as well be honest. 'No,' she confessed, 'I didn't.'
'Why not?' 'I don't know- well, yes I do. It's because it was so cruel, and I hate cruelty.'
'Was it cruel?'
Karen stared and wondered what to say. How on earth could Lucilla fail to see how inhumanly cruel the games were? 'Well- those animals, for instance. You like animals, don't you?'
Lucilla nodded.
'The deer had no defence against the leopards- their antlers aren't much use against claws. They've no escape. 'They just run round and round until they drop dead from exhaustion, terror or loss of blood. It's a horrible thing to happen to a lot of harmless little deer. And those Jews; that’s a hundred times worse, there’s no word to describe it. Did you see the couple next to me?'
'No. What were they doing?'
'They were disgusting, the way they carried on. That girl was completely carried away. She just sat and screamed in ecstasy. The Jews didn't deserve to die in that way. It's a terrible thing, to die. You wouldn't like to, would you?'
'I don't know. I suppose not, if you say so.'
'I don't say so! I mean, I'd have thought of course you wouldn't. Just think of death- of being cut off from everything, life and sun and joy. It's only a few people whose lives are so miserable they welcome release.'
'Oh.' Lucilla was silent again, pondering on this.
Karen could see that she didn't understand. The reason was that death and agony really meant nothing to her because she was too young and neither had ever touched her. And as she grew up her conscience would not bother her because she had been brought up to a life that lacked sympathy and feeling for those beneath her.
IX
ABOUT THIS TIME KAREN FIRST BEGAN TO NOTICE THAT Rhoda used to slip off for an hour, regularly each week. She only noticed because twice she had wanted Rhoda's help with something, and both times she was nowhere to be found. As she was usually about and willing to help, Karen thought this odd and after that half kept an eye on her. It was not long before she realized that Rhoda had a rendezvous, but with whom she had no idea. She didn't like to ask her, but after a month she was so curious that she had to find out and decided to follow Rhoda to see where she went.
She was lucky in that the next time she had no particular jobs to get on with, the children being out for the day, so she hung around the kitchen, and when Rhoda, who was helping the cook, remarked that she would go and dust in the atrium; Karen followed.
As she had thought, Rhoda went nowhere near the atrium. She sneaked around the corridors and out of a side-door, Karen not far behind.
Once out of the house, Rhoda turned left along the narrow lane between the house-wall and the outer one. The shadow was deep, and for a minute Karen thought she had lost her, but she soon saw her talking to a man in the doorway.
She wondered if it was a romance, but it looked more like a business meeting, or the man turned away almost as soon as he saw Rhoda, and she followed him out of the gate.
Karen had doubts as to whether she ought to go after them. It seemed a bit mean, but still, she was very curious. Perhaps she could go just a little way.
However, they didn't go far, just threading their way through the maze of tenements and streets at the bottom of the Viminal Hill, and then into a shop that stood on the corner. It was only two storeys high, dwarfed by the soaring tenements. As they were going in, Karen ran forward and caught Rhoda's arm. She whipped round as if she had been stung by a snake, and relaxed slightly as she saw who it was.
'Karen!' she said, 'What are you doing here?'
'Well ... oh, Rhoda, don't be mad about it, but I followed you. I had to see where you went.'
Rhoda took her hand and pulled her inside the shop. 'You'd better come in here,' she said. 'People will see you.' This all seemed very mysterious. Why on earth shouldn't people see them? She demanded an explanation.
Rhoda bit her lip. 'Oh, all right. Since you're here, you'd better know what we're up to, I suppose. I'm sorry, Karen. I should have told you before, but I didn't know whether I ought to. It's very dangerous, or it could be.'
'But, Rhoda, what's dangerous? What is this thing? I won't tell anyone else, I promise.'
Rhoda sighed. 'First,' she said, 'I want you to tell me something. Do you believe in Jupiter and all the Roman gods? Or do you believe in Isis? It's very important.'
Karen stared. Jupiter and all that bunch? What did Rhoda take her for? 'Of course not! Well, how could I? They're not real, they're just images and myths. I believe in .. .' -light began to dawn-' ... in God, one God. And Christ. I'm a--'
Rhoda's expression changed to one of joy and relief. 'Oh! You're a Christian! One of us-- oh, why didn't you tell me?'
Karen said nothing for a minute. Suddenly everything clicked into place- Rhoda was a Christian. Of course, Christianity was still a new religion at the moment. The date was only about A.D. 63, after all. It seemed funny; ancient Christian was meeting modern Christian; now their religion would bind them together.
'I didn't tell you,' she said slowly, 'because I didn't think you'd understand. And you didn't think I would. It's the same reason. Rhoda smiled, tossed back her long black hair; and took Karen's hand. 'Come upstairs,' she said, 'and join in our service. I'll introduce you when everyone's here.'
They went up the narrow, dusty stairway, and came out in an upper room. It was long and passage-like; there were some chairs and a bed, and that was all the furniture. About ten people were sitting on the chairs and talking amongst themselves.
Rhoda clapped her hands together to gain attention. 'Hello, everybody,' she said 'We've got a new recruit. This is Karen.'
Everyone crowded round, and Rhoda started on a list of names. One or two stuck in Karen's mind. There was Thrasyllus, a small, white-haired old man who seemed to be the leader: a thin stringy boy called Myros: and a plump kindly woman who looked as though she would laugh at anything, although really she took her religion very seriously; her name was Pyrea.
'We are not quite all here yet,' said Thrasyllus. 'There are only two missing now. I hope they have not been found out.'
'Why shouldn't they be?' Karen asked, butting in out of curiosity, 'You all seem to think Christianity is such a dangerous thing!'
The others looked grave.
'It is dangerous, dearie,' said Pyrea. 'You see, if the Romans need a scapegoat for anything, we are their first choice. We are persecuted, here in the city. We have to be very careful.'
'Oh, I see,' said Karen. She hadn't thought of it like that. 'I hope the other two are all right.'
'I think they- oh, they're here,' said Rhoda, as two rather dishevelled men came up, dressed in the short red tunics and knee-boots of the army.
'Ah,' said Thrasyllus, 'Marcus and Quintus. We thought something had happened to you, brothers.'
'Something nearly did,' grunted the first. 'We nearly got confined to barracks for being involved in a brawl last night. Thank you for not beginning the service.'
Thrasyllus inclined his head. 'Let us pray now to the Lord,' he said, and took his place at the end of the room. Everyone knelt, and Thrasyllus prayed for guidance in their work, and told a story about the Christ. Afterwards they sat down and talked about their work.
Karen had never been very religious herself; her family rarely went to church and she hadn't really given much thought to Christianity; now she felt a deeper sense of it. The simple faith of this handful- from all walks of life, both slave and free- touched her.
She felt a unity with them because of Christianity.
Finding that she was the main point of interest, because they welcomed another lamb to the fold, she questioned them about their meetings. 'How do you get converts in the first place, if you have to keep it so secret?'
'Well,' said Thrasyllus, 'it's difficult, certainly. But we do get them. Usually we tell our closest friends, who won't give us away, and they tell their friends, and it works that way. Occasionally people find out by chance, as you did; and Quintus here. He stumbled on a meeting, and was about to report us, but we told him about the Christ and he found Truth that way.'
'I see. And you make no difference between high-born and low-born?'
He smiled. 'No. We are all brethren, and our faith unites us.' The thin boy, Myros, cut in. 'You said you were a Christian before you came to us. How did you get converted?'
Karen opened her mouth and shut it again. All the old difficulties were cropping up again.
'I ... I was born a Christian; brought up to it. Where I come from we're all Christians. Please don't ask me where my home is, because I can't explain. It's very hard, trying to tell you, but we're all believers there.'
The others looked puzzled; they only half understood. But they saw how awkward Karen became if she was asked about it, so they refrained from questioning her. Thrasyllus, however, meditated on what she had said, stroking his lips with one finger, a habit of his.
At length he said, 'Your life is your own, sister, to publicize or make secret. But touching on what you have said- about your all being Christians, this encourages me. Perhaps some-time it will be like that everywhere.'
Karen laid a hand on his arm. 'It will be,' she said sincerely, 'believe me. One day the whole world will be converted to our way of thinking. But only if people like you keep trying to establish groups here and there.'
Thrasyllus stood in thought. 'A drop of rain is small,' he said, 'but many drops make a flood which can wash out cities.'
Everyone smiled, a little sadly, and Karen knew it was because when that day came, they would be long dead. Come to think of it, so would she.
They fell to talking again, and eventually Rhoda said that they ought to be making tracks for the house, or they would be missed.
'See you next week, then,' said Pyrea. Karen stopped. It was more difficult for her to get away, she explained, since it was not every week the children went out.
'Never mind,' said Rhoda, 'We’ll think of something.'
Back at the house, they had not been missed. The House of Caecina had many slaves.
Karen now was struck with an idea which she later confided to Rhoda. Why not ask Kleon if he would be a Christian too? If he didn't want to be, at least he wouldn't tell anyone that they were. Rhoda thought it a good idea, but she said that if they were all three members, only two would have to go at a time, because where two could slip off, three would be more easily missed. Still, they could take it in turns to stay at home.
'All right,' said Karen, 'I'll ask him when he goes to the dormitory.'
'All right, then. But don't let the others hear. Watch it! Zenocrates is coming.'
Zenocrates was angry. 'Where have you girls been?' he thundered. 'I've been looking for you all over. You can both go and get on with your work, whatever it is. It's nearly lunch-time.'
Karen could hardly wait for the day to be over so that she could ask Kleon about joining, but the Lady Julia kept him busy all day because she was entertaining friends, so he was not available until evening.
She went off to the door of the men's dormitory as soon as possible and leaned in the shadows, waiting for him. He was not long in coming. He pulled her inside the door and hugged her. 'Don't let the battleaxe catch you.'
Karen giggled. She could imagine the ominous tread echoing down the corridor. 'You despicable girl! Get back to your dormitory this minute.' Volumnia would probably seize on it as an excuse for a beating, if half Rhoda's tales of past injustices were to be believed. It had been warm.
&nb
sp; outside too, and an excess of heat always made her irritable.
'Kleon,' she said, 'I've got something to tell you before the others come up.'
'They'll be ages yet,' he replied with a laugh. 'They're in the bathroom. I got there first. What's up?'
'I want to tell you I'm a Christian.' Now it was out.
He started, and stared. 'A Christian? What on earth do you mean?'
'I've joined a secret group of people who worship Christ. It's a new religion. We're trying to make converts, you see, and actually I was thinking.
'You want me to join?'
'Well ... yes.'
He sighed, and looked down. 'I don't know,' he said, 'A new religion sounds a dangerous business in Rome. And what do you get out of it?'
'Get out of it? What do you get out of any religion?'
'I don't have a religion. I don't believe that anything's any good. I don't believe in gods.'
Karen was aghast. 'No religion? But you must believe in this- it's the true one. The Christ really came. You can meet people who really saw, him, if you look for them. He worked miracles and things- haven't you ever heard of him?'
'No. When was this Christ person of yours alive?'
'About ... well, he was born about sixty years ago. I don't know
the exact dates.'
'As recently as that? That sounds interesting. Tell me more.'
'I'll try, but if you came to the meeting next week, Thrasyllus would do it better. We don't give sacrifices, to start with. When Christ came to earth from heaven he preached that we must all be like brothers and love each other. He was a very good man, he never hurt anyone even when they crucified him--'
'Did they do that? But why, if he was so good?'
'I’m coming to that. It was the Jewish priests, really. The people had been told that a Messiah would come; but when he did he was born a carpenter, not the king they were expecting. The people loved him but the priests hated him. I expect he upset their apple-cart. So they said he was a blasphemer and got the Romans to crucify him. He could have blasted them off the face of the earth to escape it, but he wouldn't, because he loved them too much. When he died the sky went dark, because he was the Son of God. And then the people were afraid, but it was too late...'
The other slaves were coming upstairs now, so Karen dropped her voice and told him about the rest in whispers. 'So please come to the next meeting,' she finished up.
She could see Kleon frown in the fast-fading light, and heard him give a long, thoughtful sigh.
'I don't know. What you've told me, it sounds sort of true. It's a wonderful story. I must say it seems a good sort of religion to join.'
'It is,' said Karen. 'One day it'll be the whole world's religion. It will outlive the Caesars.'
'All right,' he said. 'I'll come.' He sat down on his mattress, and although it was now too dark to see, she sensed him smiling.
Kleon did visit the Christians and was converted, and with his conversion Karen saw a great change take place in him. He seemed to have