The Divining (52 page)

T
HERE IT IS
," Sebastianus said quietly as he scanned the vast caravan terminus. He counted twenty legionaries standing watch around his caravan—an elite cohort in shining breast-plates and red brushes on their helmets—not only guarding his tents and camels and goods from China, but on the lookout for the caravan's leader, he was certain, with orders to slap him in chains and drag him before the emperor.

     Stepping back behind the protection of the blacksmith's tent, from which sounds of clanging metal rose in the morning air, he said to Ulrika, "It appears the emperor has seized the caravan as well."

     As soon as they had arrived in Rome, they had gone to Sebastianus's villa and found guards surrounding it, with a sign on the main gate declaring it to be the property of the Senate and People of Rome. "We will have to assume that my friends are also being watched, in case I go to them for assistance."

     Ulrika felt a wave of emotions wash over her. It had been ten years since
she was last in Rome, and the sight of the city brought back a rush of girlhood memories. She thought of old friends who would be married now, with children—Julia, Lucia, Servia.

     Behind those towering walls, in the warren of streets and lanes that covered Rome's hills, Ulrika had lived in a villa with her mother. There, she had learned about the Rhineland, had yearned to meet her father's people. But in that same villa, Ulrika had spoken harsh words to her mother and apologized in a letter that her mother had never read.

     
Did my mother return to Rome? Is she here now?

     "What should we do?" she asked, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. They had yet to find Timonides.

     The caravanserai south of Rome was vast and noisy, with camels bellowing and donkeys braying, dogs running about on ground covered in sludgy manure and chopped straw. The air was choked with pungent smoke from cook fires, and from the stench of animals recently sodden with sweat. The whole encampment was a hubbub of industry and care, and surrounding it were Roman soldiers in brass and scarlet, standing watch to make sure no one touched the emperor's treasure.

     And then Ulrika
did
see a familiar face. "Timonides!" she cried.

     He had been coming from the direction of the southern gate, wringing his hands, his face filled with worry. Ulrika called out, glancing at the soldiers to make sure they had not heard. The old astrologer stopped and turned. His face broadened with joy as he came toward them at a trot.

     They embraced in the shadow of the blacksmith's tent, Timonides's cheeks wet with tears. "I never thought I would see you again, master," he sobbed on Sebastianus's chest. "It is so good to see you both."

     "You are well, old friend?" Sebastianus said, wiping his own tears away.

     "I am well, master, but I have been in hiding, waiting for your arrival. Nero is out of his mind with fury!"

     "But the caravan arrived intact, did it not?"

     "Yes, but too late for his taste. And he came in person to pick through everything here. Nothing pleased him."

     "But there are treasures in there!"

     "Not the sort Nero wants. They say he has a new passion—for gemstones!
He carries an emerald and peers at the world through it. He needs money. You have heard of the terrible fire that destroyed much of the city. Rumors are that Nero himself set it so that he could clear room for new buildings. Master! You cannot go home. Soldiers are there to arrest you. I have come to the caravan terminus every day, hoping to find you before the soldiers did."

     "I know, old friend."

     Timonides's white eyebrows flew up. "You know about the charges of treason and witchcraft?"

     Sebastianus laid a hand on the old astrologer's shoulder. "It is a long story."

     Timonides turned to Ulrika. "While I have been awaiting your arrival, I have not been idle. I asked around and learned that a well-known healer-woman named Selene now lives in Ephesus, where she practices her arts."

     "You found my mother?" But Ulrika was not surprised. Selene had enjoyed a sterling reputation here in Rome. Word of her whereabouts would have made its way back to where she had been so loved.

     "You can write to her. I know where to send a letter."

     "Oh Timonides, this is wonderful news!"

     "But what of your journey to Judea?"

     Sebastianus told him of finding Rachel at the oasis near the sea of salt, where he and Primo had reverently moved Jacob's remains to the small cedar chest in which Rachel had kept her clothes. From there they had made their way to the coast to take a merchant ship across the Great Green, arriving at Brundisium a week ago, the first day of October. There they had purchased horses and carts and fresh supplies, and had struck out along the Via Appia, the highway that connected the main cities of Italia. Fifty miles south of Rome they parted ways with Primo and Rachel, believing that the two would be safer on their own, and Primo knew an old friend, a retired centurion he had served under, who would offer them safe haven at his hillside vineyard.

     "Where are you going to take the relics?" Timonides asked.

     "We had thought to a man named Simon Peter, a friend of Rachel's."

     Timonides shook his head. "Your friend Rachel is not safe here. I have
heard of this Simon fellow. He leads a group of Jews who are waiting for the Messiah to come. As they are a closed and fanatical group, Nero has decided to blame them for the fire that destroyed much of the city. They have all been arrested and await execution in the arena."

     "How bad was the fire?" Ulrika asked.

     "Terrible! It happened three months ago, on the night of July the eighteenth, starting at the southeastern end of the Circus Maximus in shops selling flammable goods. The fire spread quickly and burned for over five days. Hundreds of houses and shops were reduced to cinders. Nero began rebuilding at once, but they are extravagant projects. He is building a splendid new residence for himself called the Golden House—a project certain to bankrupt the Treasury, as you might imagine by its name. Did you know that Nero has proclaimed himself a god? He is insisting that he be worshipped alongside Jupiter and Apollo. Come with me, master. I will take you and Ulrika to a safe place."

     Sebastianus turned to Ulrika, "Go with Timonides. Send word to Primo and Rachel. Italia is no longer safe for them."

     "What about you?"

     "I have an appointment with our emperor. Ulrika, you go with Timonides—"

     Ulrika shook her head. "I am going with you."

     Timonides spoke up: "Master, I will also go with you. You were led astray by my false horoscopes. If there are any charges of treason, they should be upon me. This is something I must do."

     "Very well, but we must find a way to get into the palace."

     "It is a madhouse, master. This is Nero's jubilee year. Emissaries have come from all over the empire to bring him gifts. You cannot even get near the Imperial Palace. Best to let one of
those
take you," Timonides said, flinging an arm in the direction of the Roman guard.

     But Sebastianus said, "I will not stand before Caesar in chains. And I especially will not have my wife paraded in chains. We are free citizens of Rome and deserve to be heard before we are found guilty." He rubbed the bronze stubble on his jaw. "The problem is how to get into the palace without risking arrest? For if we are arrested, we could languish in prison for
days or even weeks before we are brought before Caesar and our case is heard. We need only get in the door. But how?"

     "Sebastianus," Ulrika said. "Primo told us that he said in his report to Nero you went to Judea to find hidden treasure. You need only appear at the entrance and give them your name. If Nero is truly desperate for money, he will have you brought into his presence at once."

     "But you have nothing to give him," Timonides protested. "I have seen the visitors arriving at the palace. They bring fantastic gifts for Caesar. You will not be allowed to enter empty-handed."

     Sebastianus smiled. "But I do have a gift for Caesar. A very rare and unique gift that only I can give."

     Timonides wrinkled his nose. "What might that be?"

     "You yourself gave me the idea, old friend, in something you just now said. But we must hurry."

     They went first to an inn, where they bathed and changed into clothes Timonides purchased for them in the marketplace—Sebastianus would not have Ulrika and himself arrive before the emperor in anything less than the finest garments. Ulrika wore a dress of several layers, all the shades of a sunrise, with a daffodil-colored veil that went from the crown of her head to her feet, and draped artfully over her right arm. Sebastianus donned a black knee-length tunic edged with gold embroidery, and a matching black toga draped over his broad shoulders and arms. Adding new sandals that laced up the calves, and expensive belts made from the softest kid leather, Sebastianus was satisfied that he and Ulrika made an elegant couple, aristocratic enough to pass the scrutiny of any palace steward or chamberlain. And now that Timonides had regained all health lost in China, and wore clean white robes that set off his handsome flowing white hair, he made for a fine servant to the patrician couple.

     Before they left the inn, Sebastianus took Ulrika's face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. "Whatever happens today, my love, remember that I will always love you. Wherever destiny takes us from this day forward, I will carry you forever in my heart. Now listen to me. Let me do the talking. Say nothing to Caesar. Do not try to defend yourself. I will find a way to exonerate you of the charge of witchcraft. Above all, do not divulge to Nero
your gift, for he will want to keep you for himself. They say he has become obsessed with the gods and knowing the future. Ulrika, if he learns of your spiritual gift, you will be kept a prisoner in the palace, and Nero will torment you with his insanity. Promise me you will say nothing."

     "Sebastianus, what is your gift for Caesar? He has taken everything. We are left with nothing except the clothes we wear."

     "Do not fear, my love. From what I have learned of our emperor, it is something he will not be able to resist."

     It was a short walk to the Forum and the base of the Palatine Hill, but the way was crowded with onlookers lining the wide avenue to gawk at the visitors who continually arrived in the hopes of an audience with the emperor. But Sebastianus managed to get himself and his two companions through the maze of stewards and chamberlains, and finally into the palace itself.

     The waiting hall outside the imperial audience chamber was so crammed with people and animals it was nearly impossible to make one's way through. Visitors hoping to impress Nero had brought extravagant and fabulous gifts, filling the colonnaded hall with a colorful spectacle of comically dressed midgets on golden leashes; dance troupes with drums and torches; trained dogs dressed as lions and tigers; enormous chests brimming with rare bird plumage and animal pelts; statues carved in the likeness of the emperor. A staff of imperious chamberlains, dressed in impressive long blue tunics embroidered with silver threads, saw to the sorting of the guests. The hall was filled with the dull roar of many voices mingling with the peculiar barks and howls and squawks of the exotic animals that were waiting to be presented to the emperor. The chamberlains checked rosters of names—those invited and those to be banned. Sebastianus Gallus and Ulrika were on neither list.

     The fat steward who had the final say-so at the enormous double doors looked them up and down. He held a tall ebony walking staff tipped with gold, intended to be rapped on the floor for attention. "You say you have a gift for Caesar? You do not appear to be carrying anything."

     "It is for Caesar's eyes only," Sebastianus said.

     The man waited, sucked a tooth, shifted his heavy staff to the other hand.

     "I will not bribe you," Sebastianus said. "I will simply send word to Caesar that, due to the negligence and greed of a certain steward identified by a
raspberry mark on his neck, one of Caesar's oldest and dearest friends was kept from presenting him with a prize above all others."

     The chamberlain met Sebastianus's eye with the air of one who had faced many an arrogant, and threatening, visitor to the palace.

     "And you are to personally escort us," Sebastianus added.

     The chamberlain's brow arched in frank surprise. He sucked his teeth again, taking the measure of the unusual trio, then he said, "I think I shall call a guard instead. I see no gift for Caesar. Especially none more valuable than any of
these,"
and he gestured toward thirty African slaves bearing massive elephant tusks on their shoulders.

     "Apparently," Sebastianus said calmly, "you enjoy a special intimacy with our emperor to know what he would prize above all else."

     Sebastianus kept his eyes on the chamberlain, who met his gaze for a moment, and then he faltered, looking away, clearing his throat until he said, "Come this way."

     Going through a smaller door, they followed the chamberlain into the audience hall, remembered from ten years prior, and joined a cacophonous press of colorful humanity. Nero's guests were mostly from the Roman patrician class, judging by their elegant gowns and togas, and the ladies' hairdos, which seemed to compete for height and number of curls. They stood about murmuring amongst themselves, turned every now and then when a foreign guest was admitted, and ogled the gifts laid at Nero's feet. Young slaves in pale-blue and silver tunics moved among the guests with platters bearing cups of wine, or tasty treats such as roasted sparrows and figs dipped in honey.

     Ulrika was flung back to the last time she had stood in this hall, ten years prior. She recalled seeing the same apparition that had appeared to her in the countryside when she was twelve—a woman running with her mouth wide in a silent scream, her arms and hands covered in blood. Ulrika had not known why the vision had appeared to her in this audience chamber, and she still did not know. But should it happen again, this time she would have control of the vision and learn its meaning.