CHAPTER VII
"The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."--PSALM XIV. 1.
And late that day when Dea Flavia was preparing for rest she dismissedher tire-women, keeping only her young slaves around her, and thenordered Licinia to attend on her this night.
Licinia was highly privileged in the house of Dea Flavia. She had nursedthe daughter of proud Claudius Octavius at her breast, and between thewizened old woman and the fresh young girl there existed perfectfriendship and the confidence born of years. Dea's first tooth was inLicinia's keeping and so was the first lock of hair cut from Dea's head.Licinia had been the confidante of Dea's first childish sorrow and wasthe first to hear the tales of the young girl's social triumphs.
No one but Licinia was allowed to handle Dea's hair. It was hershrivelled fingers that plaited every night the living stream of goldinto innumerable little plaits, so that the ripple in it might continueto live again on the morrow. It was Licinia who rubbed Dea's exquisitelimbs with unguents after the bath, and she who trimmed the rose-tintednails into their perfect, pointed shape.
To-night Dea Flavia was lying on a couch covered with crimson silk. Herelbows were buried in a cushion stuffed with eiderdown, her chin restedin her two hands and her eyes were fixed on a mirror of polished bronzeheld up by one of her younger slaves.
Licinia, stooping over the reclining body of her mistress, was gentlyrubbing the white shoulders and spine with sweet-scented oil.
"And didst see it all, Licinia?" asked Dea Flavia, as with a lazystretch of her graceful arms she suddenly swung herself round on to herback and looked straight up at the wrinkled old face bending tenderlyover her.
"Aye, my precious," replied Licinia eagerly, "everything did I see; forthou didst draw the curtains of thy litter together so quickly, I had notime to take my place by thy side. I meant to follow immediately, andwas only waiting there for a moment or two until the crowd of thyretinue had dispersed along the various streets. Then it was that Ispied my lord Hortensius, and something in the expression of his facemade me pause then and there to see if there was aught amiss."
"And was aught amiss with my lord Hortensius?" asked Dea Flavia withstudied indifference.
"He looked wrathful as a tiger in the arena when the guards come andsnatch his prey from him. There was a frown on his face darker than thatwhich usually sits on Taurus Antinor's brow."
"He was angered?"
"Aye! at the praefect," rejoined Licinia. "He strode forward from underthe arcades directly after the crowd of thy slaves had disappeared, andthe Forum was all deserted save for Taurus Antinor standing there as ifhe had been carved in marble and in bronze and rooted there to the spot.My lord Hortensius came close up to the praefect and greeted him curtly.I dared no longer move away lest I should be seen, so I hid in the deepshadow behind the rostrum, and I heard Taurus Antinor's response to mylord Hortensius."
"Yes! yes!" said Dea Flavia impatiently, "of course they greeted oneanother ere they came to blows. But 'tis of the blows I would like tohear, and what my lord Hortensius said to the praefect."
"He spoke to him of thee, my child, and taunted him with having angeredthee," said Licinia. "The praefect is so proud and so impatient, Imarvelled then he did not hit my lord Hortensius in the face at once. Helooked so huge, I bethought me of a giant, and his head looked dark likethe bronze head of Jupiter, for his face had flushed a deep and angrycrimson, whilst his mighty fists were clenched as if ready to strike."
"What caused him to strike, then?"
"My lord Hortensius called him a stranger, and this the praefect did notseem to resent. 'There are other lands than Rome,' he said, 'and one ofthese gave my ancestors birth. Proud am I of my distant land, and proudnow to be a patrician of Rome.' Then did my lord Hortensius break intoloud laughter, which to mine ears sounded mirthless and forced. Heraised his hand and pointed a finger at the praefect and shouted, stilllaughing: 'Thou a patrician of Rome? thou a tyrant's minion! slave andson of slave! Nay! if the patriciate of Rome had its will with thee, itwould have thee publicly whipped and branded like the arrogant menialthat thou art!' This and more did my lord Hortensius say," continuedLicinia, whose voice now had sunk to an awed whisper at the recollectionof the sacrilege; "I hardly dared to breathe for I could see thepraefect's face, and could think of naught save the wrath of Jupiter,when on a sultry evening the thunder clouds are gathering in the wake ofthe setting sun."
But Dea Flavia's interest in the narrative seemed suddenly to haveflagged. She stretched her arms, yawned ostentatiously, and with themovement of a fretful child she threw herself once more flat upon thecouch, with her elbows in the cushions and her face buried in her hands.
With some impatience she snatched the mirror from the young slave'shand, and then she put it on the pillow and looked straight down intoit, whilst her hair fell like golden curtains down each side of herface.
"Go on, Licinia," she said with curt indifference.
"There is but little more to tell," said the old woman, who with stolidplacidness had resumed her former occupation, and once more rubbed thewhite shoulders with the sweet-smelling unguent; "nor could I tell theehow it all happened. A sort of tempestuous whirlwind seemed to sweepbefore my eyes, and the next thing that I saw clearly was an enormousfigure clad in a gorgeous tunic, and standing high, high above me on thevery top of the marble rostrum beside the bronze figure of the god. Itwas the praefect. From where I stood, palsied with fear, I could see hisface, dark now as the very thunders of Jupiter, his hair around his headgleamed like copper in the sun; but what caused my very blood to freezeand the marrow to stiffen in my bones, was to see his two mighty armshigh above his head holding the body of my lord Hortensius. He looked upthere like some god-like giant about to hurl an enemy down from themountains of Olympus. The rostrum stands a terrific height above thepavement of the Forum; the marble balustrades, the outstandinggradients, the carvings along its sides, all stood between that inertbody held up aloft by those gigantic arms and the flagstones below whereDeath, hideous and yawning, seemed to be waiting for its prey. And stillthe praefect did not move, and I could see the muscles of his armsswollen like cords and the sinews of his hands almost cracking beneaththe weight of my lord Hortensius' body."
Licinia paused and passed a wrinkled hand over her moist forehead. Shewas trembling even now at the recollection of what she had seen. Thebeautiful figure lying stretched out upon the couch had not moved in asingle one of its graceful lines. The tiny head beneath its crown ofgold was bent down upon the mirror.
"Couldst see my lord Hortensius' face?" came in the same cold tones ofindifference from behind the veil of wavy hair.
"No!" said Licinia. "I thank the gods that I could not. One cry formercy did he utter, one cry of horror when first he felt himselfuplifted and looked down into the awful face of Death which awaited himbelow. Then mayhap he lost consciousness for I heard not a sound, andthe whole city lay still in the hush of the noonday sleep. Less than oneminute had intervened since first I saw that avenging figure outlinedagainst the blue curtain of the sky: less than one minute even whilst myheart had ceased to beat. And then did a cry of horror escape my lips,and the praefect looked down into my face. Nor did he move as yet, butslowly meseemed as if the ruddy glow died from out his cheeks and brow,and after a while the tension on the mighty arms relaxed, and slowlywere they lowered from above his head. He no longer was looking at menow, for his eyes were fixed upon the distant sky, as if they saw theresomething that called with irresistible power. And upon the heat-ladenair there trembled a long sigh as of infinite longing. Then the praefectgathered my lord Hortensius' inanimate body in his arms as a motherwould her own child, and with slow and steady steps he descended thegradients of the rostrum. At its foot he caught sight of me, and calledme to him: 'My lord hath only fainted,' he said to me; 'do thou chafehis hands and soothe his forehead, whilst I send his slaves to him.' Helaid the precious burden down in the cool shadow, taking off his owncloak and making of it a pillo
w for my lord Hortensius' head. Then hewent from me, and as he went I could hear him murmur: 'In Thy service,oh Man of Galilee.'"
Even as these last words still trembled on Licinia's lips there came asharp cry of rage, followed by one of terror, as with quick and almostsavage movement Dea Flavia picked up the heavy mirror of bronze andhurled it across the chamber. It fell with a loud crash against thedelicate mosaic of the floor, but as it swung through the air its sharpmetal edge hit a young slave girl on the shoulder; a few drops of bloodtrickled down her breast and she began to whimper in her fright.
It had all happened so suddenly that no one--least of all Licinia--couldguess what it was that had so angered my lady. Dea Flavia had raisedherself to a sitting posture, and thrown her hair back, away from herface which looked flushed and wrathful, whilst two sharp furrowsappeared between her brows.
The women were silent, feeling awed and not a little frightened; thegirl, whose shoulder was now bleeding profusely, continued herwhimpering.
"Get up, girl," said Licinia roughly, "and staunch thy scratchelsewhere, away from my lady's sight. Hark at the baggage! One wouldthink she is really hurt. Get thee gone, I say, ere I give thee bettercause for whining."
But in a moment Dea Flavia was on her feet. With a quick cry of pity sheran to her slave, kneeled beside her and with a fine white clothherself tried to staunch the wound.
"Art hurt?" she said gently, "art hurt, child? I did not wish to hurtthee. Stop thy weeping--and I'll give thee that amber locket which thoudost covet so. Stop thy weeping, I say! Is it my white rabbit thou dosthanker after--thou shalt have it for thine own--or--or--the woollentunic with the embroidered bands--or--or--Stop whining, girl," she addedimpatiently, seeing that the girl, more frightened than hurt, wassobbing louder than before. "Licinia, make her stop--she angers me withall this whining--stop, I tell thee. Oh, Licinia, where is thy whip? Ivow I'll have the girl whipped if she do not stop."
But Licinia, accustomed to her mistress's quick changing moods, had inher turn knelt beside the girl and was busy now with deft hands instaunching the blood and tying up the wound. This done she dragged thechild up roughly, though not unkindly, from the ground.
"Get thee gone and lie down on thy bed," she said; "shame on thee formaking such a to-do. My lady had no wish to hurt thee, and thou hastupset her with all this senseless weeping. Get thee gone now ere I dogive thee that whipping which thou dost well deserve."
She contrived to push the girl out of the chamber and ordered two othersto follow and look after her; then once more she turned to her mistress,ready to tender fond apologies since what she had said had so angeredher beloved.
Dea Flavia had thrown herself on the couch on her back; her arms werefolded behind her head, her fair hair lay in heavy masses on theembroidered coverlet. She was staring straight up at the ceiling, herblue eyes wide open, and a puzzled frown across her brow.
"My precious one," murmured Licinia.
But Dea Flavia apparently did not hear. It seemed as if she weregrappling in her mind with some worrying puzzle, the solution of whichlay hidden up there behind that brilliant bit of blue sky whichglimmered through the square opening in the roof.
"My precious one," reiterated the old woman appealingly, "tell me,Dea--was it aught that I said which angered thee?"
Dea Flavia turned large wondering eyes to her old nurse.
"Licinia," she said slowly.
"Yes, my goddess."
"If a man saith that there is one greater, mightier than Caesar ... he isa traitor, is he not?"
"A black and villainous traitor, Augusta," said Licinia, whose voice atthe mere suggestion had become hoarse with awe.
"And what in Rome is the punishment for such traitors, Licinia?" askedthe young girl, still speaking slowly and measuredly.
"Death, my child," replied the old woman.
"Only death?" insisted Dea, whilst the puzzled look in her eyes becamemore marked, and the frown between her brows more deep.
"I do not understand thee, my precious one," said Licinia whose turn itwas now to be deeply puzzled; "what greater punishment could there befor a traitor than that of death?"
"They torture slaves for lesser offences than that."
"Aye! and for sedition there is always the cross."
"The cross!" she murmured.
"Yes! Dost remember seven years ago in Judaea? There was a man who raisedsedition among the Jews, and called himself their king--setting himselfabove Caesar and above the might of Caesar.... They crucified him. Dostremember?"
"I have heard of him," she said curtly. "What was his name?"
"Nay! I have forgot. Methinks that he came from Galilee. They didcrucify him because of sedition, and because he set himself to be aboveCaesar."
"And above the House of Caesar?"
"Aye! above the House of Caesar too."
"And they crucified him?"
"Aye! like a common thief. 'Twas right and just since he rebelledagainst Caesar."
"And yet, Licinia, there are those in Rome who do him service even now."
"The gods forbid!" exclaimed Licinia in horror. "And how could that be?"she added with a shrug of the shoulders, "seeing that he died such ashameful death."
"I marvel on that also," said the young girl, whose wide-open blue eyesonce more assumed their strangely puzzled expression.
"Nay! I'll not believe it," rejoined the old woman hotly. "Do that manservice? A common traitor who died upon the cross. Who did stuff thineears, my goddess, with such foolish tales?"
"No one told me foolish tales, Licinia. But this I do know, that thereare some in Rome who set that Galilean above the majesty of Caesar, andin his name do defy Caesar's might."
"They are madmen then," said the slave curtly.
"Or traitors," added Dea Flavia.
"Thou sayest it; they are traitors and rebels, and never fear, they'llbe punished ... sooner or later, they will be punished.... Defy themight of Caesar?... Great gods above! the impious wretches! thou wertright, my princess! Death alone were too merciful for them.... Thescourge first ... and then the cross ... that will teach them the mightof thy house, oh daughter of Caesar.... I would have no mercy withthem.... Throw them to the beasts, say I!... brand them ... scourge them... wring their heart's blood until they cry for death...!"
The old pagan looked evil and cruel in her fury of loyalty to that housewhich begat her beloved Dea. Her eyes glistened as those of a catwaiting to fall upon its prey; her wrinkled hands looked like claws thatwere ready to tear the very flesh and sinew from the traitor's breast.Her voice, always hoarse and trembling, had risen to a savage shriekwhich died away as in a passionate outburst of love she threw herselfdown on the floor beside the couch, and taking Dea's tiny feet betweenher hands, she covered them with kisses and with tears.
But Dea Flavia once more lay back on the coverlet of crimson silk andher blue eyes once more were fixed upwards to the sky. Above her theglint of blue was now suffused with tones of pink merging into mauve;somewhere out west the sun was slowly sinking into rest. Tiny goldenclouds flitted swiftly across that patch of sky on which Dea Flaviagazed so intently.
"Come kiss me, Licinia," she said slowly after a while. "I'll to restnow. To-morrow I shall see my kinsman the Caesar again, after a year'sabsence from him. I desire to be very beautiful to-morrow, Licinia, formayhap I'll to the games with him. That new tunic worked with purple andgold. I'll wear that and my new shoes of antelope skin. In my hair thecirclet of turquoise and pearls ... dost think it'll become me,Licinia?"
"Thou wilt be more beautiful, my precious one, than man's eyes canconveniently endure," said Licinia, whose whole face became radiant withthe joy of her perfect love for the girl.
"Ah! thou hast soothed my heart and mind, Licinia. I feel that I shallsleep well to-night."
She allowed the old woman to lead her gently to her bedchamber, wherewithin the narrow alcove she lay all that night tossing upon the silkenmattress that was stuffed with eiderdown. Sleep would not
come to her,and hour after hour she lay there, her eyes fixed into the darkness onwhich, at times, her fevered fancy traced a glowing cross.
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