‘Does he? Really?’ If she could get him out of this room, out into the street she would have the chance to escape. In here she was at his mercy. ‘I suppose I could guide you there,’ she said, casually, almost reluctantly. ‘I’m not entirely sure where it is, but I know how they got there. I wonder if it is still there or if it’s just a pile of stones now?’
‘What are they planning?’ He stood up straight suddenly. ‘Tell me.’
‘They are discussing what to do.’
‘They can’t hope to rescue the captives,’ he sneered. ‘It’s impossible. Have you seen the dungeons?’
Jess shuddered. He knew what was happening in her story. He was part of it. He could see what she could see but through someone else’s eyes. ‘I went out to Mamertine today,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘That is where St Peter spent his last days as well. There is a church built on top now. There is an inscription outside. I couldn’t quite understand it, but it seemed to say that by making a pilgrimage there one could earn oneself time off from purgatory.’ This was surreal. They were like two historians, discussing the what happened and the what ifs of history. ‘There were other dungeons as well, on the Esqualine, did you know? There wasn’t enough room for all the prisoners in the Mamertine. The houses of people like Felicius Marinus Publius and Julius, which had been burned in the fire or pulled down to make a fire break, were being cleared. With them gone there was nothing to stop Nero constructing his amazing pleasure palace and before he got round to that, the cellars of those houses were converted into dungeons to hold all the prisoners he was planning to throw to the lions.’ She clasped her hands together to stop them shaking. ‘Titus is a clever man. If he can hear you, see you, he must wonder how this is all working, just as you and I are wondering. If he knows that you know something about where they were and are withholding the information, won’t he be angry?’ The illogicality of what she was saying did not strike either of them.
Dan shrugged. ‘We’ll just force it out of you.’
She shuddered. ‘There is nothing to force. I can’t describe how they got to wherever they were. I would have to follow the route. Work it out.’
‘And I would have to let you leave this room.’ Dan grinned amiably. ‘I am not that stupid, sweetheart. I can see what you’re doing.’
She shook her head ruefully. ‘You’re so clever. OK. What do we do now?’ Before he could answer she reached for her paper bags. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I’ve pastries and fruit. Do you want some?’
He shook his head. ‘You go ahead. I’ll watch.’
She found it impossible to eat. The food turned to concrete in her mouth. She managed to swallow one or two pieces, then put the pastry down. She could feel him watching her and could picture the amusement on his face but she refused to look up. She broke open a fig with her nails and sucked out some of the sweet pith.
‘Nice?’ His mocking tone goaded her into glancing up. She knew she had fig juice trickling down her chin. A figure was standing beside him. Shadowy. Tall. Watching her with as much amusement as he was. She gave a small cry of horror, dropping the fruit on the table.
‘What? What is it?’ Dan stared round tensely, his eyes wide.
She pointed, speechless with fear. ‘Can’t you see him?’
‘Who?’
‘Titus!’ The word came out as a soundless whisper.
‘Where?’ His face had gone white. ‘Where? I can’t see him. You’re lying.’
‘I’m not lying!’ She stood up and backed away, putting the table between herself and Dan. The apparition was standing close beside him, almost touching. It was touching.
‘Oh shit, Dan. Can’t you feel it? He’s on top of you. He’s all around you.’ Then she remembered. ‘Hugo! Oh God, Hugo, boy, come to me. Help me. Please!’
‘What are you talking about?’ Dan was rigid with fear. ‘I can’t see him.’
‘Can’t you feel him? Dan, he’s all over you. HUGO!’ This time it was a scream and the dog was suddenly there, standing in the middle of the room facing Dan. It was motionless. Huge. Black. Solid.
‘Dear God in heaven, what is that?’ Dan was ashen, his lips white, his arms held out before him. ‘Keep it off me!’
Jess smiled. ‘Leave. Now. Calmly. Just go. I can’t hold him back.’
Dan scrabbled behind him for the door handle. He turned it but it wouldn’t open. He tugged at it furiously.
‘You locked it, Dan,’ she said quietly. She could see the dog beginning to quiver. ‘Get the key and put it in the lock quickly. You haven’t much time. I can’t control him.’
‘I can’t find it!’
‘You had it in your hand. You were taunting me with it!’
‘What the hell is it, Jess?’ He was searching his pockets frantically. He found it at last, inserted it into the lock, turned it and the door opened. In seconds he was running down the stairs.
Hugo turned and looked at her. She could swear he was smiling. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve saved my life.’ She held out her arms but already he was fading. She could have sworn his tail was wagging as he disappeared.
She was by the door in two steps. Slamming it shut she squatted by her bag and scrabbled frantically for her phone. With shaking hands she switched it on, praying there was still some life in the battery. ‘Will. He was here. Dan. He was threatening me. Please come.’
‘I’ve been trying to reach you, Jess. Rhodri warned me.’ Will’s voice was breaking up. ‘Stay there. Lock yourself in. I’ll come as soon as I can.’ The phone cut out. She stared at it in disgust. Had his battery gone, or hers? She redialled but there was no reply. Wherever Will was, the signal had failed.
‘Show yourself quickly then duck back behind the wall.’ Marcellus was close beside her. ‘That’s enough for them to know you’re here.’ They could see the group of men in the distance but it was too faraway to identify any of them.
Their messenger had been specific. Eigon would give herself up if Felicius and Julius were released unharmed. There had to be neutral negotiators there to ensure that the deal was done fairly and cleanly. Except the negotiators were not neutral. They were going to stand forward at the last minute between Eigon and her would-be captors, just long enough for the party to be whisked out of sight under cover of darkness. Marcellus had arranged it all, with many misgivings, as being the only way to get Julius and his grandfather out of the dungeons. The games were nearly upon them. The stadium was being prepared and the wild beasts were hungry again.
Eigon was determined. She was ready to do anything to save Julius, and now at last, she would meet Titus again face to face. It was as though she had been preparing for this encounter all her life. This time they would meet as equals. She was not at a disadvantage. She knew where and when the meeting would take place and she was ready. She was no longer afraid. The anger inside her had reached boiling point. He was threatening the people she loved. He had been terrorising her ever since she could remember. He had killed her friend, almost killed her. He had caused the death of her father. Now it was her turn to bring the encounter to him on her terms.
Marcellus glanced at her. He found he was almost feeling sorry for Marcus Olivinus. ‘Ready?’ he whispered. He still had the feeling this was madness, but what other alternative was there?
She nodded. ‘I can’t see. Is it them?’
‘We don’t move until we are sure.’ He gave her a quick smile. ‘Stephen is going to go first. He has met Julius and his grandfather. He knows them well enough to be sure it is them.’ He glanced over his shoulder at Stephen who grinned. He raised his thumb. ‘Shall I go now?’
‘Give them time to come a few paces closer. They are nowhere near halfway.’ Marcellus could feel his nerves tightening. He glanced round into the darkness. It had seemed so easy, so foolproof, this plan, but now it was dark he was full of doubts. He and Eigon were planning to play tricks. Then so too could Marcus Olivinus.
‘Why are we waiting?’
Eigon was beside him now. He could see her nerves were stretched almost to breaking.
‘We can’t be sure it is them yet. It’s too dark,’ Marcellus murmured.
‘Call out.’
Marcellus glanced at Stephen. ‘Shall I?’
Stephen nodded. ‘It’s not as though we are trying to get closer in secret. This is a meeting. It should be completely open.’
Marcellus stepped forward. ‘Marcus Olivinus? Are you there? Show us our two men.’
There was no response. The group of figures moved closer to them.
‘Julius?’ Stephen called out. ‘Are you there?’
There was no reply. The group moved closer.
Eigon bit her lip. She could feel the palms of her hands growing clammy. And suddenly she knew. ‘They’re not there. They’ve tricked us!’
Marcellus cursed. Grabbing her arm, he turned to flee. And suddenly there were men all round them. Torches flared in the night. They were surrounded. Eigon flinched back, dazzled by the flames. She couldn’t see anything. Her arm was wrenched from Marcellus’s hand and she found herself being dragged away from him. Screaming, she pushed her fingers into the eyes of whoever had grabbed her. Someone swore. He lost grip of her and she managed to wrench away from him. Turning she ran blindly through the crowd of men, not knowing where to go, panicked by the noise and the turmoil. Somewhere a horse screamed. She could hear the thud and scrape of hoofbeats on the paving of the road. Then someone else had grabbed her. ‘This way! Quick!’ She recognised Stephen’s voice. ‘Down here!’
‘Julius?’ she cried. ‘Where is Julius?’
‘He’s not there. He never was.’ Stephen sidestepped a group of men and dragged her with him through a gate and into the darkness of a vineyard. ‘This way. Leave the others. They will cope. They weren’t expecting us to have extra men as well.’ They pounded down between the vines, seeing dimly in the hazy moonlight, and then turned at right angles towards an area of scrub. In the distance the silhouette of an aqueduct snaked massively across the landscape, throwing arched moonshadows over the plain. Stephen made towards it. They found a gap in a wall and ran through it. Now they were in an area of market gardens, dotted at intervals with orchards and small farmhouses. He paused, glancing round. ‘I can’t hear anyone, can you?’ His breath came in tight gasps.
She was too tired to speak. She shook her head, swallowing frantically, clutching at the stitch in her side. ‘What about Marcellus?’
‘He’ll be all right but we have to get somewhere safe. It’s you they want, don’t forget.’ He did not tell her that Marcellus had persuaded one of the young men in their group to put on a robe and cloak and a wig in the event that something like this happened. By now he would have ditched his disguise, but for a few important moments it would have distracted them and with luck they would have followed him. He held his breath, listening. Nothing. A light wind whispered through the leaves of a grove of olive trees nearby.
‘What do we do?’ Eigon’s earlier courage seemed to have trickled away. She could feel her voice shaking. ‘Where is Julius?’
‘I doubt if they brought him,’ Stephen whispered. ‘It was always a risk.’
He saw her look of misery swiftly followed by a visible straightening of her shoulders as she took a deep breath. ‘We have to go and find him. We can’t leave him there.’
Stephen shook his head. ‘Leave it to the others, Eigon. We can’t risk you. You know that. You are our only bargaining counter.’
She knew that was true; it was the only way to make her listen.
‘But they cheated. They won’t agree again.’
‘Marcellus will think of something. He’s a good strategist. Leave it to him. We have to find somewhere safe to hide till it’s light. Then we have to meet up with the others. The plan was to make our way to a house belonging to some sympathisers about five miles from here.’
‘Five miles?’
‘I know. It’s a long way. We’ll go slowly and stop to rest once we’re further away. It’s too open here for my liking. Once we get there we’ll be safe.’
‘And Julius and his grandfather?’
Stephen bit his lip. ‘We’ll pray for them. You must keep faith, Eigon. God is on our side. He will protect us.’
‘God wants martyrs,’ she said bitterly. ‘I’ve heard Marcellus say so. He wants people to prove their faith by dying in agony for him. I thought he was supposed to be a god of love.’ She pulled her cloak around her with a shiver.
Stephen said nothing. With a sigh he set off, walking fast down the track. She had to run to catch him up. His silence had reminded her that his wife had already died for her faith. Biting her lip at her lack of thought she pulled at his arm. ‘Stephen, where are your children?’
‘They are being looked after.’
‘You left them to come to help me?’ She forced him to stop, looking up into his face.
‘It was my duty.’
‘No, it wasn’t your duty. It was an act of love.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not a very good Christian yet.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘Are any of us? We are struggling to do what Jesus would have wanted us to do, but he would understand. He knew we are not as strong as him. Look at Peter. Even he denied the Christ when he was afraid.’
Eigon dropped his arm. Resolutely she began walking again. ‘You are right.’ They walked on for a bit. ‘Melinus was brave,’ she said after a while. ‘He was a Druid. They were persecuted by Rome as well. I don’t think I could be so strong.’
‘You would. You are one of the bravest people I’ve met.’ Stephen grinned at her. ‘Julius is a lucky man.’
She blushed. ‘I never hoped for him. My parents wouldn’t have allowed it.’
‘And you wouldn’t have defied them?’ He raised an eyebrow.
She smiled. ‘Not my father, no.’
‘But now he’s gone.’
She nodded sadly. ‘Now he’s gone.’
‘So, what is standing in your way?’
She laughed out loud. ‘Apart from a dungeon wall nothing at all.’ She thought sadly about her mother, alone now in the villa with her memories. Had she given even one thought to the daughter she had thrown out? She would probably never know.
They reached their destination as it grew light. Weary and covered in dust they made their way into the gardens of the villa and Stephen tapped at a side door. It opened at once and they were ushered inside. Their hostess was a tall white-haired woman, elegantly dressed even at that hour, her face pale and soft-skinned, every inch a patrician, though her eyes were a bright cornflower blue which with her pale skin betrayed an ancestry far north-west of Rome. At once Eigon was whisked away by a pretty well-dressed slave who cheerily helped her to bathe, brushed out her dusty hair, dressed her in new clothes and in no time at all brought her back to join Stephen and their hostess for breakfast.
‘I am Junilla Gallica, my dear. Welcome. You are safe here.’ Her hostess smiled as she held out her hands and drew Eigon close enough to kiss her cheek. ‘Sit down. There is bread and cheese and honey on the table and calda to drink.’ She pushed a carafe of the warm, weak spiced wine towards them. ‘Please, Stephen, will you bless it for us?’
As warm sunlight crept into the room Eigon found her eyes closing. She forced them open in embarrassment. But again they began to close. Her hostess smiled. ‘Don’t fight it, my dear. Go to the guest room and sleep. We will call you when the others arrive.’
It was several hours before there was any news. Marcellus and a party of six other dusty weary men, including Silas, walked in at last as Eigon and Junilla were sitting together in a shady courtyard talking.
‘We gave them the slip soon after you and Stephen got away,’ he said, throwing himself onto a stool beside them. ‘No one was seriously hurt, no one lost. And we have news.’
The two women looked up expectantly.
‘Felicius has been freed from the dungeons.’
‘What?’ Eigon jumped to her
feet. ‘And Julius?’
‘As I understand it they are both being held under house arrest by order of the Emperor. We don’t know why. You know Nero and his whims, but I suspect it is because Felicius is a senator and has friends in high places. My source told me that Marcus Olivinus is furious but there is nothing he can do. But we have to be wary. This was against everything he wanted, but he can still turn it to his advantage by using Julius as a lure, so,’ he held up his hand as Eigon tried to speak, ‘we will not rush in and do something stupid without thinking very hard about how to handle this.’
By next morning they had a plan. They talked it through again and again until it seemed foolproof. It depended on Junilla Gallica.
She and Eigon both wore heavy veils. They were dressed soberly and unostentatiously so as to attract as little attention as possible. Both were wearing two loose-fitting gowns beneath their cloaks, any added bulkiness well hidden. Attending them were two slaves, carrying clubs for protection, as was usual for ladies from less well off but patrician households who could not afford better armed bodyguards. One of them carried a bag slung over his shoulder. In it were extra veils and two spare cloaks. The intention was to give the impression to anyone watching the house that they were in mourning.
It was the first time either had been into Rome since the fire. They were horrified by the devastation they saw around them. Whole areas had been levelled; all around were deserted houses, half-ruined; roads and streets piled high with stone and rubble and heaps of ash and burned wood. In other places the fire seemed to have had no effect at all. The city went on as before, but with a quiet, more thoughtful air. The house where Felicius and Julius were lodged was in a quiet area of smart homes on the Caelian Hill, an area which seemed to have missed the fire. There was no outward sign of guards save the two at the front of the house, one on either side of the front door. Junilla walked slowly but seemingly with confidence towards the entrance. She turned towards one of the slaves and graciously nodded her head. Neither woman gave any hint of the fear they were feeling. The slave bowed and stepped forward to rap on the door with his club. They waited in silence. Under her veil Eigon held her breath, scanning the houses on either side of them as, nervously, she clenched her fists. The two guards ignored them. The street was quiet, sunlight playing on the deserted paving slabs. There was no sign that anyone was watching them. At last they heard footsteps inside and the door opened. Junilla stepped forward. ‘I have come to visit my brother.’ Her voice was convincingly weak and shaky. ‘Is that you, Septimus?’ She peered short-sightedly through her veil. ‘Please, tell him I’m here.’