Richard Blake - The Curse of Babylon

The light was improving moment by moment. Standing just outside the colonnade, there was Timothy’s unmistakeable bulk and possibly Leander beside him. I stretched as far forward as I could without putting any weight on the stuccoed brick. The compact and still masses of what could only be the city guard were reassuring. They blocked movement each way along the Triumphal Way. We’d agreed that the mob would be allowed to gather within limits. Anyone else would be turned back. Once the signal was given, both wings of the guard would press forward and let people out a few at a time. Doing this, they’d nab everyone they could identify from the list Eunapius had finally supplied.

A big hand took hold of my belt and pulled me back a few inches. ‘Can’t have you falling over,’ Samo said in Latin. Antonia laughed nervously. Best not to argue. I turned back to looking at what was happening below. In their usual place, the ladders were being set up. I couldn’t see the seditionaries. But Alexius was somewhere close by, getting his mask right with a recitation of one of the prayers for Easter.

With a final look at the sky, I jumped down from the chair and smiled at the senior men of the household. ‘Gentlemen,’ I said, also in Latin, ‘let me go through the arrangements one more time.’ A boy, who seemed to have turned decidedly pretty since my last sight of him, poked a wine cup at me. I gave him a very warm smile and sipped at the contents. As I’d ordered, it was laced with what I hoped was a strong stimulant. Priscus hadn’t been in his quarters when I got back, so I’d sniffed at each small bottle in his collection till I found something that smelled just right. I hoped it was. After a sleepless night, I wanted to keep awake — not have to keep telling myself that the troll and witches and dead relatives dancing about me weren’t actually there. I sipped again and felt my nose begin to itch. A couple of the bigger slaves were taller than me. I got back on the chair, and looked at the small and silent crowd. I looked harder in the fading gloom. I frowned. ‘Where is Theodore?’ I asked.

‘He was praying in the chapel,’ a boy called out from the back of the crowd. I frowned again. I’d seen candles burning away in the chapel before we took our hit from the catapult. Could the fathead have been in there all night? It wouldn’t be the first time in the past week. I sighed. Why couldn’t he pray in the daylight like everyone else? Wasn’t that supposed to be God’s first gift to the world? It was certainly free — unlike wax candles. But I composed myself. So long as Timothy continued to see his own best interest and was able to re-impose order on the streets, this was all set up to be a glorious day. I looked at Antonia. She set off another of those warm feelings inside me. Or perhaps it was the stimulant. I could feel I’d picked right among those unmarked bottles.

I cleared my throat and looked in the direction of the boy who’d spoken. ‘Go and tell Theodore that I want him up here at once,’ I said. ‘Tell him it’s an order.’ While the boy took a short cut across the roof tiles, I cleared my throat again and began with the main business. ‘In a few moments, Samo will go down to the room above the main gate. There, he will await the shouted signal from young Eboric.’ I glowered at the little blond stunner. ‘Eboric will watch for the agreed signal outside. At its first appearance, he must run from my office, downstairs to the entrance hall. Samo will then pull the lever that raises the portcullis.’ I put on a look of grim mastery. ‘ Do you both understand? ’ Samo sniffed nonchalantly. Eboric smiled sweetly. I focused on Samo. Though barely able to get up to the roof without a wheezing attack, he had great static strength. Apart from me, he was the only man in the building able to set in movement the geared monster that would pull up a ton and a half of iron as if it were another gross of candles for Theodore. He looked almost sober. I’d have to trust him. I nodded to him and he began slouching off towards the exit from the roof. He stopped short of the open hatch to hear out the rest of what I had to say.

‘Once the portcullis is up,’ I went on, ‘we’ll hear the first reading of my proclamation. Among much else, this will order the crowd to disperse. After that, and while much of the crowd is still present, the City Prefect will walk alone to the foot of the steps and wait for the gate to swing open.’ I paused to settle a nervous tremor I could feel making its way into my voice. ‘The gate is already secured by a single bolt. I will open it myself and walk out alone to embrace the Prefect. It will be all the evidence the assembled witnesses need to show the restoration of concord among the higher classes of the City.’ I paused again. I looked at faces that had turned surly. I waited for someone to finish interpreting my words for those slaves whose working language wasn’t Latin. ‘Some risk is unavoidable,’ I said firmly. ‘Of course, you will remain in arms behind the gate, ready to give such help as may be required. And I will remind you that, until further notice, the public areas of the palace will be closed to everyone you don’t know by name or face.’

Panting slightly, the boy messenger was back. ‘Begging pardon, My Lord,’ he trilled, ‘but Master Theodore won’t leave the chapel. He says the Devil is abroad in the palace, and that he must finish praying for all our souls.’

Bloody idiot! I thought. But I had only myself to blame. I should never have indulged his taste for theology. Those ghastly books had turned his mind. ‘Then let him stay with his icons,’ I said heavily. ‘He has neither civil nor military function in this morning’s proceedings.’ Yes, let him stay down there babbling to his ever-more disordered imagination. His sour face would only damp our own spirits.

‘I’ll go and get him,’ Antonia broke in. ‘I’ll tell him it’s his duty to behold the triumph of good over evil. That should bring him up here.’ I nodded, hoping she wouldn’t be too long. This was, after all, as much her triumph as mine. I stood down from the chair and watched her pass through the little crowd. No one could have called Antonia sweet by nature. Neither was she stupid. She’d seen her father’s household management and she’d seen mine. I knew the slaves had all been wondering what sort of wife I’d finally bring home. Now, as she went out of sight, every face turned back in my direction showed something between liking and adoration.

And now the sun was up. Spreading jagged shadows over the roof tiles, it heralded the beginning of our triumph. It was Monday again — another petitioning day. Today’s petitioners, plus those stood over from the previous week, would make a backlog to add to all the others. Before making my way back from Nicetas to the Great Sewer, I’d pulled one of my chief clerks out of bed. Sooner or later this day, my people would turn up with a wagonload of official business. Dealing with all my routine work and going through everything Nicetas had allowed to pile up — and sorting out and covering up matters as agreed with Timothy — would need more than a few drops of stimulant.

But we’d won. I stared right at the tall victory column. There were no archers positioned on its viewing platform. Perhaps I should have been less cautious and put myself and the rest of the audience on one of the balconies. I watched and waited. Moment by moment rising higher, the sun broke suddenly into the Triumphal Way. Its first shaft of light struck the gilded pinnacle of the monument. It was the agreed signal to start proceedings. Timothy bounced lightly over to the catapult and raised his arms for attention. Everyone round him looked across the road to my main gate.