The Fatal Fire (2 page)

“Poor greens!”

“That's the emperor's team,” the old man said.

“What colour are you?” Mary asked.

“Green, of course,” her master smiled. “But don't tell that to a red, blue or white. They would probably give me a beating.”

“Rome's a dangerous place,” the girl groaned.

“I told you that before we left the house.”

“You did, master Tullus,” Mary nodded. This was the first time her master had let her go into the city with him. His serving boy was ill from eating a rotten snail, so she had to take his place.

Mary watched as the man with the eye patch slid into the rushing crowd, his eye on a fat man in a purple toga. And she shivered.

TWO

“If the thieves don't get you, the soldiers might,” said master Tullus.

“Get me?” Mary squeaked. “Why?”

The old man's face was as wrinkled as a walnut shell, and it crinkled nastily as he said, “I know your secret, little Mary.”

“Secret?”

“You're a cannibal!”

“I'm not!”

“You are one of those Christians, aren't you?”

“Yes, but…”

“And when you have your services, you eat bread and drink wine?”

“We do, but…”

“And you believe that the bread turns into the flesh of your god and the wine turns into his blood, don't you?”

“Well, yes…”

“So, you're cannibals. That's why you have to keep it secret. The people of Rome don't like you and your priests. They just need any excuse to turn on you and kill you all.”

Mary's mouth was dry. She had heard about the executions. She didn't want to think about the horrors of the ‘games', as the Romans called them. It wasn't much of a game being tied to a post while a bear tears off your flesh. She felt sick when a soldier walked past and gave her a hard glare.

The street became quieter, and the old man stepped out onto the path and followed the mob. In front of them stood a massive, wooden arena.

It had towering walls with dozens of doors to let the noisy crowd in.

Street sellers had their stalls set up and were offering everything from food to clothes. Pans sizzled and steamed on small, wood-burning ovens.

“Sausages here! Get your sausages here!” came the cries.

“Thrushes, tasty thrushes!”

“Dormice, lovely stuffed dormice!”

“Slice of wild boar, sir? Killed fresh this morning!”

Mary's mouth was watering. Servants never got to eat much meat – they got by on thin porridge, some dates, onions and cheese.

The old man pointed to a sausage-seller's stall by one of the dark doorways. “Stay here till the games are finished.”

“Here?”

“Here. You can't expect to come in and watch the chariot racing. It's not for the likes of you.”

“But is it safe outside? With all the thieves and the soldiers?” Mary cried.

The old man pushed his crinkled face close to hers. “Who cares? You are a slave. A slave's life is worth nothing. You are a girl. A girl's life is worth nothing. So what are you worth?”

“Double nothing,” Mary muttered and sank to the ground. Her master disappeared into the arena. Then she crawled under the stall to escape the heat of the midday sun.

THREE

In time, the street became empty and the food-sellers' cries stopped. Everyone was inside the arena and the roar of the crowd told Mary that the races had begun. Even the street sellers had deserted their stalls to watch.

Mary collected two ants from the dusty earth and set them to run. She would have her own races to keep herself amused.

One ant raced out from under the stall and into the sunlit street. Mary lifted the cloth a little and that's when she saw a pair of feet walking past. And she knew at once that all the dangers of Rome were just a cubit away from her frightened face.

There was something wicked about those dusty feet in the dustier sandals. The crowd in the arena was roaring like a thousand lions, yet the feet seemed to be trying to walk on tiptoe. They took two steps and stopped. The ankles twisted as if the owner of the feet was looking around. Then they moved on, silent and snake-like.

Mary pulled the cloth back further and blinked out into the glare of the street. The feet rose into hairy legs and the legs went into a tunic with a green belt. But the man was too tall for her to see his face… unless she pushed her head right out.