The Fatal Fire (3 page)

“I'm not doing that,” she thought. “My life's worth double nothing – but it's the only one I've got.”

Again the man twisted to look around. Then he leaned forwards and took a sausage pan from the top of the stove. He threw the fat from the pan onto the wooden wall of the arena.

Then he took a wooden spoon, opened the stove door and scooped hot ashes into the pan. The hot ashes set the remaining fat alight.

The man seemed to panic. He threw the burning mess at the wall and at once the sausage fat started to blaze.

The sandals began to run back towards the city and Mary could see the man's back now. She stuck her head out from the stall to see more clearly. The man stopped at the corner and turned. The serving girl saw the beard and the eye patch, and she gasped.

The thief did a curious thing – he lifted the patch from his eye to get a better look at the arena. Then he gave a cruel grin and hurried out of sight.

Mary tumbled out from under the stall. She snatched the cloth from the table and beat at the flames that were steadily climbing the arena wall.

But the fat was burning fiercely and she only managed to set fire to the cloth, which scorched her hand. She dropped the cloth and watched in horror as the greasy sausage table burst into flames.

FOUR

Mary looked around for water. There was none. She threw herself into the arena entrance. She ran inside and up some steps that led out into the rows of seats.

Luckily, the first race had finished so the crowd had quietened down. Hundreds of people were able to hear her scream:

“Fire – the arena's on fire!”

The masses turned and saw the smoke rising.

The arena was huge and there were lots of ways to escape. In the time it takes for a chariot race, the place was empty and the frightened horses had been led away.

Mary followed the crowd that hurried through the streets. She looked back to see the arena was already a wall of flame.

There hadn't been any rain for weeks, and the blue, spark-spangled smoke rose into a clear sky. A breeze blew the smoke towards the city and showers of fiery soot fell on the houses and temples.

The cloud of smoke travelled faster than Mary could run. By the time she'd reached the centre of the city, some of the roofs were already smoking and people were running to save their families and their homes. A few tried to gather buckets and form a chain from the fountain.

But the fire from the sky was defeating them.

Mary sprinted to her master's house and panted her message: “Rome is burning!”

The servants ran to the pond in the garden and plunged in a bundle of blankets. They threw them onto the roof to stop it catching alight.

Master Tullus hobbled in to give orders. “Load a cart with our best gold and silver ornaments. Take them out to my country villa. If this house burns, it burns. The gods will have their way.”

Mary helped load small statues that were studded with precious stones. Then she ran behind the cart towards the hills.

When at last the family and servants were safely away from the thundering roar of falling buildings, they looked back. Everything in the path of the breeze was burning. Half of Rome was tumbling into ruin.