Bruce Macbain - The Bull Slayer

Ashes. She has the taste of ashes in her mouth. Her heart, her self-respect, her husband’s love-all ashes. He will divorce her. How can he not? It’s what she deserves. There can be no forgiveness for the pain she has caused him. She has ruined both their lives. All she wants now is to go home and be with her grandfather, in the old familiar surroundings of her childhood.

A knock on the door.

Can it be him? Her husband? Come to forgive her after all? Her heart leaps. If he will let her, she will love him again like the innocent girl she once was. How she longs to be that girl again! “Come in,” she says in a tremulous voice.

“Excuse me, lady. They said you were here.”

“Aulus?” She tries to compose her face, quiet her heart. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at home.”

“I was for a while. I couldn’t stand it. I came back to see the governor, but Suetonius says he left yesterday to visit someone in the country.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” She sees his eyes widen in surprise. He’s a sensitive boy, he knows something is the matter, but he is too shy to ask. She must say something. “My husband and I are estranged.” She forces a smile.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s all right. Why did you want to see him?”

He looks at his feet and grimaces, hunches his thin shoulders, wrings his hands. She’s afraid he’ll have a fit. “The cave,” he says at last. “Everyone says your husband found it. I wanted him to take me there.”

“Why in the world?” she asks, astonished. “That should be the last place-”

“You don’t understand. I blame myself for my father’s death. If I hadn’t been a coward, hadn’t tried to run away, he would have seen those men who were lying in wait on the path, he could have defended himself.”

“Aulus, you mustn’t think that.” She takes his hands in hers.

There are tears in his eyes. “If I had obeyed him and gone with him to the cave none of this would have happened. And maybe Mithras would have cured me. Maybe he still can. I want to go there now and make a sacrifice to him. I’m a man now, I’ll soon be seventeen. I mustn’t be afraid anymore. I owe my father that.”

“Oh, but you can’t, there’s no one there, no priest, the cave is empty.”

He draws back and stares at her. “How do you know that?”

She realizes too late what she has admitted. “Haven’t you heard? I was there-with someone I thought I loved.” Why lie to the boy? She’s too tired to lie anymore. She sees his confusion.

“And that’s why-”

“Why I’m here? Yes.”

“I’m sorry for you.”

“You’re kind to say so.”

He looks at her earnestly. “My parents parted in anger too. I will never marry.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you will.”

For a moment he says nothing and then he gathers his nerve. “Could you take me there?”

“No, impossible.”

“Who else can I ask?”

“One of the soldiers, Suetonius…”

“I’m afraid of them.” He pleads with his eyes. “Only you, lady.”

Oh, gods! Could she? Go back to the last place where she and Agathon had made love and face whatever feelings assail her? Is she brave enough for that? Is she as brave as this poor boy? It must be right now, before she loses her courage.

“Come with me to the stables,” she says.

***

The air was as sharp as a knife. A morning mist lay in the hollows and the ground was white with hoarfrost. Dressed in woolen breeches and thick cloaks, their legs encased in leather puttees, Pliny, Zosimus, and Galeo tramped along in single file, stepping carefully over fallen branches in the dense underbrush. The stout, long-bladed boar spear was heavy in Pliny’s hands. From somewhere ahead of them came the baying of the Laconian hounds. They had found the scent. Diocles’ huntsmen were busy stringing up the nets of woven flax, hanging the meshes on the forked branches of trees.

Diocles-where was he? He and the other Greeks had been within sight only a moment ago-Diocles had assured him he wouldn’t have to use his spear; the huntsmen would do the dangerous work. But surely a noble Roman must relish the excitement of the chase? What would people think if their governor showed himself lacking in manliness? And Pliny, like a fool, had allowed himself to be imposed on, although Marinus had tried his best to dissuade him. The physician would have nothing to do with such foolishness himself and had stayed behind in Diocles’ house.

Pliny slowed his pace and waited for Zosimus to catch up. The young man was even less accustomed than Pliny to physical exertion. He looked half frozen. “Something’s been bothering me all night,” said Pliny, his breath coming out in white puffs of steam. “I was introduced to our host’s father last night. Poor old fellow’s lost his wits. Name’s Hypatius. Seems to me that name has a familiar ring but I can’t place it. Mean anything to you?”

Zosimus stopped in his tracks and turned worried eyes on his master. “Patrone, we should leave this place. Now.”

“Why, what is it?”

“Hypatius was the name on the deed, the owner of the estate who sold Barzanes the plot of land with the cave. Patrone, they’re all in this together. They’ve lured you into a trap!”

“ Mehercule ! The Sun-Runner? Diocles?”

The snarling of dogs was suddenly loud in their ears. Branches snapped. The boar burst out of the thicket in front of them, two dogs hanging from its bristling neck, others snapping at its legs. Two hundred pounds of muscle balanced on tiny feet. It charged, bursting through the net that should have drawn tight around it and ran straight at Pliny. Where were the huntsmen? He crouched and tried to take it on the point of his spear but the beast flicked the weapon out of his hands with a toss of its huge head. Pliny threw himself on his stomach, pressed his face against the frozen earth, scrabbled with his fingers. The boar worked at him with its wet snout, grunting and snuffling, he could feel its steaming breath on his face and smell its stink. If it got those wicked, upcurving tusks under him-

“Patrone!” Zosimus had been given a javelin to carry-useless in his unpracticed hands. He threw it and missed, then snatched up a fallen branch and brought it down with all his strength on the animal’s shoulder. The boar turned and slashed at him, ripping open his belly, flinging him aside like a rag doll. Then Galeo was standing over the boar with Pliny’s spear in his hands. He thrust it down between its shoulder blades up to the cross piece and held on until the animal sank to its knees and fell over. He helped Pliny to his feet.

A moment later three of Diocles’ huntsmen appeared as if from nowhere. “Are you all right, Governor?” said one. “Looks like your companion is…well, too bad.”

Zosimus lay on the ground, clutching his belly, a grey bulge of intestine showing between his bloody fingers.

***

“Calpurnia, where are you going?” Suetonius had been alerted by one of the slaves and had followed her and Aulus out to the stable.

“Are you my jailer now?”

“No, of course not, but-”

“Then get out of my way.”

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

She made an angry gesture with her hand. “To the cave, then.”

“With the boy? Why?”

“Because he asked me to.”

“At least let me come with you.”

“So you can report on me to my husband?”

***

Marinus’ arms were bloody to the elbows. He had done what he could, gently replacing the large intestine, trimming the ragged flesh around the wound and bathing it with vinegar and verdigris, then suturing it with the complicated double stitching recommended for belly wounds. Zosimus lay on the blood-soaked bed, scarcely breathing.