Rosemary Rowe - The Chariots of Calyx

He put the knife into his belt and turned to me. ‘Your warrant, citizen.’ He leaned forward and removed it from the pouch where it hung and, taking a taper from the guard, examined it a moment. He gave me that mirthless smile of his, then, very carefully, held my precious document in the flame until the seal melted and the bark-paper smouldered and curled. Then he shook out the flames, seized me by the scruff of the neck and stuffed the charred remains inside my tunic. I felt the bite of heat against my skin. ‘So much for your warrant, citizen. Tomorrow, when I throw your body in the river, you may show it to the fishes. Perhaps they’ll be impressed by it. I’m not.’

The sudden blow which caught me on the cheek was so violent and so unexpected that I almost buckled at the knees. If it were not for the two henchmen holding me so firmly by the arms, I think I would have found myself grovelling on the stone floor as the slave had done.

Glaucus smiled. ‘Now, little songbird,’ he said softly, ‘we shall see how you can sing.’ Almost before I realised his intention, he had drawn the knife again. The two guards held me pinioned while he slashed the toga from my shoulder, then deliberately raised the taper and held the naked flame against my skin.

I cried out and tried to struggle free.

‘Bind him!’ Glaucus barked. ‘Use that dead fool’s belt.’

He held the light while the two guards dealt with me. One held me while the other undid the rope tie from the dead slave’s waist and bound my elbows firmly to my sides. I tried to take a deep breath and brace against the rope — an old trick, known to slave-boys everywhere, to make the bonds less tight — but there was little I could do. I fingered the stones I held, but the guards seized me and forced me back into that excruciating position. I was doubly helpless now.

Glaucus applied the flame again. Despite myself I gave a yelp of pain. ‘You sing already, cagebird? That is just a touch of what is to come. You will answer my questions, citizen spy, or you will feel the scorch of my taper on every inch of your body. And I have your knife. There are things that can be done with a blade that make a man beg for the mercy of death.’ He smiled. ‘So you will tell me, citizen, how much you know. What have you been blabbing to the governor? Tell me the truth and I’ll be merciful. A quick clean end.’

‘Like poor Superbus there?’ I heard myself say, and wondered at my own foolhardiness.

Glaucus glanced without interest at the lifeless form. ‘That palace informer? That was not my doing, citizen. This fool here’ — he flicked at the old slave’s body with his foot — ‘let him fall down the steps and kill himself, before I had time to question him. If I had dealt with him, believe me, he would have died more artistically — and he would have told me everything he knew.’ He lifted the taper again. ‘As you will tell me, also, in the end. So make it easy for yourself. Spare yourself suffering and tell me now. How much have you learnt?’

I tried to sound casual and self-controlled. ‘About Fortunatus? Nothing much at all. I knew he was the lady Fulvia’s friend. I went to Verulamium to speak to him, but he wasn’t there, so I came back to look for him. That’s all.’

The flame touched my skin again, for longer this time. I could smell, as well as feel, the burning flesh.

‘You lie.’ Glaucus’ tone was patient, reasonable — like a merchant disappointed in a bargain. The effect was much more chilling than anger. ‘You were at the stadium asking questions about the race. So I ask you again, citizen. How much do you know?’

‘About the accident?’ I said foolishly. ‘Only that Fortunatus fell at the first corner, and had to be sent home by the medicus .’

This time the pain was sharper still. I felt the hairs singe on my chest.

If I did know anything, I thought, I would cheerfully tell him. I was not sure how long I could go on enduring this. It was clear that Glaucus was involved in something — something so dangerous that men would kill for it — but I still had no real idea of what it was. His taper was burning low by now, and he reached out a languid hand to take a replacement from one of the guards, who lit another from the brazier. That left a single guard restraining me. If there was to be a moment for me to make a move, this had to be it.

I expelled my breath and relaxed my arms at last, to create as much slack as possible in my bonds. It was not much, and the second guard still had a firm hold on one arm, but there was just enough room to wriggle the other one a bit so that I could move it from the elbow. It was my left hand, which was not ideal. I was in pain and my movement was terribly constricted, but it was all the opportunity I had. Glaucus already had the fresh taper in his hand, and the guard was turning back to pinion me.

It was now or never.

I flicked the stone out of my hand, hoping to hit the guard. But with my upper arms bound to my sides my aim was poor. I missed. The stone flew harmlessly past him and fell against the wall with a clatter.

All the same everyone jumped and looked in that direction. The remaining guard let go of my arm, and I made a bolt towards the steps, still bound at the elbows, flicking my other missile as I went.

It was hopeless, of course. The guards were after me at once, and I was pushed roughly to the ground. I lay sprawled wretchedly against the steps while Glaucus came up with his guttering taper in his hand, and looked down at me with a kind of mocking sigh.

‘You are a fool, citizen. You might have spared yourself this. But since you have not yet learned who is the master here, you force me to teach you.’

One long, strong hand drew out the blade and he bent down towards me. ‘First the steel, then the flame,’ he said. ‘Until you tell me what I want to know. Now, about this murdered man. How much have you learned?’

I went through my account again. Glaucus was unimpressed. I felt the prick of the blade against my neck.

‘Why were you at the factio today?’

I said, desperately, ‘Looking for Fortunatus. He was not there — he was pretending to be ill, but he was with this dancing girl of his.’

The taper licked my flesh. ‘And why the interest in our grain supply? Trying to discover how many horses we are running?’

‘I don’t know anything about your grain.’

The knife again. ‘Then why were you at the granary this morning?’

It went on and on. The same questions, over and over. But there was nothing I could add. Through misting eyes I could still see that cold smile on Glaucus’ face as patiently, with horrible precision, he traced his patterns of torment on my flesh.

Time passed.

I was moaning now. I could hear myself. I had fought it down for as long as I could, knowing that it would just give Glaucus pleasure, but by this time I could bear the pain no longer. Already my head and sight were swimming. Passing out would have been a kind of mercy, but Glaucus seemed to know how to keep a man just this side of unconsciousness.

Before I quite blacked out he let me come round, but every time I drifted back to my senses the torture began again: another little jab of agony on flesh already screaming with cuts and fire. I was beyond speech now — I tried to form words but only gurgling sounds escaped my lips.

Then suddenly it stopped. For a moment I was too foolish and battered even to take that in, but it was true. My damaged skin still throbbed like fire, but there were no new torments. I tried to force open my unwilling eyes, but everything seemed uniformly grey. I could hear Glaucus cursing and stamping.

‘Great Mithras curse him! He is passing out on me — that is no use. And he has made me burn myself. Give me another taper, now — at once!’ So that was it. His wax-light had burned down and he had thrown it on the floor to extinguish it when it had scorched his fingers. From a dim red haze of pain I hoped that it had hurt.