His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the creaking sound of a door opening. He looked up and saw a man approaching from the far end of the Secretariat. His general demeanour conveyed ingrained obsequiousness allied to a degree of lofty haughtiness - presumably because he was one of Ezra’s long-time employees. Obadiah was reminded of a recent conversation with Quintus who spoke of this particular man’s egregious behaviour and, consequently, was prepared to deliver severe admonishment if any sign of arrogance was displayed. As the man reached Obadiah he stopped and gave a slight bow, eyes averted to the floor.
‘Obadiah Cornelius Scipio,’ he said, in the faintest of whispers. ‘The Great Leader will see you now.’
Chapter Fifty Three
Richard and Noah were unsure what they should do. Having experienced, albeit not too closely, the attention of Ezra’s militia they were, nevertheless, anxious to attend the meeting called by Amos Caelius Aquila. The safe house in Trastevere has become a haven of security and they were now increasingly loathe to leave its safe confines while the uncertainty over Ezra’s true intensions was still in question. Richard had dared to hope that Esther would have returned to the safe house, but there was nothing visible to indicate whether she had been back since their romantic tryst some days ago. Noah was unaware of the burgeoning relationship. Richard was unwilling, reluctant to speak openly of it.
‘So, what shall we do Richard?’ asked Noah who has discarded the long robe he was wearing when spotted by Ezra’s militia, in favour of a knee length grey tunic, belted at the waist. On his feet were sandals with wrap-around straps stopping just short of his knees. Richard was dressed in similar fashion, and both felt far less conspicuous, since their dress was undoubtedly more reflective of that worn by hundreds of plebeians who roamed the streets of Trastevere.
Richard shook his head.
‘I don’t know. But, whatever, we need to let Amos know about the presence of the militia. Why don’t we get a bite to eat and then head back to the Via del Corso where the meeting’s being held. Unless it’s over by now, which is possible, don’t you think?’
Noah agreed and began searching through the kitchen’s many cupboards for food. He found half a loaf of ageing bread, flecks of green mould adding colour to its unattractiveness, and a hunk of cheese which smelled of things better unstated. Disgusted, he searched again and found a large bag at the rear of the cupboard containing what appeared be fresh-looking vegetables; cabbage, parsnips, lettuce, asparagus, onions, lentils and green runner beans.
‘I hope you have a taste for vegetables Richard, because that’s all there is, unless you want to try this cheese and bread that looks about as appetizing as those prison meals you declined when you were locked up!’
One of the cupboards was empty except for two lonely bottles of wine - he took one down, looked at the label and smiled.
‘This,’ he said raising the bottle aloft, ‘Is a product of a small vineyard very close to my home town. Richard, you are in for a veritable treat.’
Richard’s face reflected his doubt.
‘Believe me,’ said Noah ardently. ‘This bottle contains one of Terra Nova’s finest wines. It is a wine treasured by the most discerning of connoisseurs. Are you a wine drinker? Yes? Well, you may be a trifle disappointed because on Terra Nova we only drink wine mixed half and half with water; a tradition dating, would you believe, from ancient Rome! Would you care to try some?’
Richard’s dry mouth croaked a less than audible reply, which Noah assumed meant a big yes to the wine and to the vegetables.
The safe house wasn’t exactly a home from home. Their meal was placed upon a very rickety table that was stained by the accumulation of debris from meals past. Nevertheless the raw vegetables tasted good - and so they should, since the last meal the two of them had eaten consisted of a slice of cheese and a chunk of stale bread! The wine, despite being mixed with water, tasted like nectar to Richard who downed a whole bottle - with a little help from Noah!
‘That feels better,’ said Richard, patting his satiated stomach. ‘I have to agree, the wine’s really good - reminiscent of my favourite back on Earth; a Chateauneuf du Plonk!.’
Noah smiled the smile of the unwittingly teased.
‘Chateauneuf du Plonk? Is it a fine wine?’ he asked.
Richard smiled the smile of the teaser.
‘Fine?’ he replied. ‘Sure it’s very fine, and only four pounds a bottle!’
Noting the blank expression on Noah’s face, Richard thought he would explain that he was joking. Instead he teased some more.
‘I’ll send you a case when I get back to Earth! And I’ll only charge you for the shipping!’
‘Thank you,’ replied Noah. ‘That’s very so kind of you!’
Richard couldn’t contain himself. His laughter was raucous. Noah now looked even more puzzled.
‘What is it Richard? Was it something I said?’
‘No Noah, not something you said, it was something I said! But forget it for now because we have some serious drinking, sorry, thinking to do.’
Noah paused and considered Richard’s answer.
‘Hmmmm, right,’ he said. ‘And then we’ll make our way to Julius, the safe house.’
He gestured towards the way they were clothed.
‘We’ll be less conspicuous in these garments but, if we are stopped, do not forget you are deaf and dumb and I will speak for the two of us.’
Noah paused and looked at Richard.
‘By the way,’ he said, a sparkle in his eyes. ‘The Chateauneuf du Plonk, is it red or is it white?’
***
Esther was in what can only be described as a no win situation. She was seated alongside Ezra when Obadiah entered the Great Leader’s private quarters after being summoned to a meeting. Ezra stood to his feet and smiled as Obadiah approached. Esther did the same. There was a strange air of tension pervading the room as if something of high significance was about to be enacted.
Ezra held out a hand which Obadiah accepted with a manly squeeze of his own hand. Ezra sealed the greeting by placing his other hand on Obadiah’s shoulder.
‘Welcome my friend,’ he said cordially. ‘And thank you for your adjudication at the trial of Quintus! Your presence added a great deal of authority to the proceedings. But tell me, how do you think my speech was received?’
Obadiah didn’t reply. His eyes were upon Esther who was standing back, unsure what was expected of her. Ezra followed his gaze.
‘Forgive me,’ Ezra said, taking hold of Esther’s hand. ‘This is Esther, Esther Pius Oppius - do you two know each other?’
Obadiah, normally in command of the most difficult situations, appeared unsure what to say. Esther, smiling beautifully, took the lead.
‘No, we do not know each other. But it is a great honour to meet you sire, for I have heard so many wonderful things about you.’
Obadiah emitted a sigh, pleased to be rescued from a potentially embarrassing situation.
‘The pleasure is mine, I assure you,’ he said. ‘May I say I find your beauty without comparison, even among the plethora of beautiful women to be found in Leviticus. ‘
He turned and faced Ezra.
‘Our Great Leader is extremely fortunate to count you as a friend.’
A smirk from Ezra.
‘And I am extremely fortunate to have you both here at the same time. It wasn’t a coincidence however. I wanted to make sure that the rumours I have heard about the two of you are true or simply the ramblings of those seeking to cause trouble!’
‘Rumours? And what rumours are they?’ asked Obadiah, a frown appearing on his face.
Ezra smiled sadistically, as if enjoying himself.
‘I am told that you are both members of LEP.’ He spat out the words like acrid juice from a lemon.
&
nbsp; ‘And you believe this rumour?’ asked Obadiah. Esther, her face a picture of calm serenity, maintained a silent vigil.
‘I asked if you are both members of LEP; a simple question requiring but a simple answer.’
Esther’s lips opened slightly as if about to react. She was restrained by Obadiah’s upheld palm.
‘The simple answer to your simple question is no,’ said Obadiah. ‘I am not a member of LEP. As for Esther, I am sure she can speak for herself.’
Esther, her voice displaying no signs of nervousness, replied.
‘I am not a member of LEP and, I assure you, I have not met Obadiah until today.’
Ezra was now seated on the middle chair of three which were positioned around a table in the centre of the room. He motioned towards the two empty seats.
‘Please, sit. It appears as if I have been misinformed.’
He clapped his hands and a man servant appeared with a tray on which were three ornate earthenware jugs beside a glass pitcher containing what appeared to be water. The tray was placed on the table.
‘Will you do the honour please Esther; I am sure we are all in need of a drink?’
Esther rose to her feet and walked slowly to the table. She picked up the pitcher and poured some of the liquid into two of the jugs, being careful not to spill any. She gave one of the jugs to Ezra, the second to Obadiah and went back to the table to fill the third. As she reached for the remaining jug, she knocked over the pitcher. It fell onto the marble floor, smashing into countless pieces. Broken glass and water was strewn far and wide. From out of an open door at the side of the room appeared Ezra’s beloved pet, a tiny Pekingese dog, its white fur blending with the omnipresent white marble covering the floor. A pink tongue appeared from its black, leather-like, mouth and began licking furiously at the liquid that was dispersing in silvery streams, following the dark grooves ingrained in the marble.
‘NO, STOP,’ yelled Ezra.
The dog looked up, gave a weak yelp of distress and collapsed on its back, its rear legs twitching. It then emitted the shortest of sighs, gave a final jerk of a rear leg and became still. Obadiah could not believe his eyes. He looked at the dog and then at Esther who was standing unmoving, the fingers of one hand spread like prison bars over her mouth. He turned and pointed an accusing finger at Ezra.
‘You despicable swine,’ he said, glaring, eyes wide. ‘You tried to poison us. You tried to poison us.’
Ezra either didn’t hear or chose to ignore Obadiah’s accusing words. His only concern was for the dog. He walked to where the tiny body was lying; he bent down, gently patted its head and, without any sign of embarrassment, burst into a flood of tears.
Obadiah was unmoved. ‘Why not drink the poison yourself Ezra? It would save you and everyone else on Terra Nova much heartache.’ He motioned at Esther with a jerk of his head.
‘Come Esther, let us leave before we become even more sickened.’
Chapter Fifty Four
Noah and Richard’s journey from one safe house in Trastevere to Julius, another in Via del Corso, was not without incident. When they were halfway to their destination a mixed group of plebeians were staggering, stumbling, falling, shouting, swearing as if high on the effects of too much intoxicating beverage. Although Noah and Richard bore the same look as the plebeians surrounding them, somehow their manner, their carriage, their demeanour, was not quite a match. Noah deftly managed to convince the most vociferous members of the group that not only were they fellow plebeians but even less fortunate than they were, because Richard was not only deprived of the good things of life but was also deprived of the power of speech! Richard had to play the part, which he did to perfection, pointing with a finger down his open mouth, while choking and grimacing at the same time. They were allowed to continue to their destination after promising to return to the engagement party (a forthcoming marriage was apparently the reason for their inebriated state) later that evening. Noah’s promise to do so was accepted with wild applause and much waving of liquor-filled jugs.
There were no visible signs of Ezra’s militia as they traversed street after street before turning into the Via del Corso, where the safe house was to be found. In the distance they saw a figure walking ahead of them. An older man, dressed in white voluminous, flowing robes, was displaying signs of extreme nervousness. He passed by the safe house twice before glancing over his shoulder and sidling up to the house. He rapped once on the door and looked taken aback when it was immediately opened. He spoke a few words, nodded and stepped into the dark interior.
Noah wrapped an arm around Richard’s shoulder and pointed in the direction of the safe house.
‘Did you see who that was?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘Obadiah. Obadiah Cornelius Scipio, one of Ezra’s closest confidantes! If he has been called to the meeting then the situation must be reaching crisis point. He was the presiding judge at the trial of Quintus, for God’s sake! Do you know what this means Richard? The revolution is gathering strength and will shortly be underway, in spite of Ezra’s ludicrous attempts to save his own skin. I am absolutely astounded, to put it mildly. If anyone had suggested that Obadiah was a member of LEP, I would have recommended them be sent for psychiatric treatment!’
Richard shrugged Noah’s arm off his shoulder.
‘That’s where I’ll be sending you Noah unless we get a move on. Come on, let’s get inside before the militia spot us again.’
Chapter Fifty Five
The meeting was being held in the palatial garden at the rear of the safe house. Surrounded by high walls, which barred the blazing sunlight from covering the entire area, it was esoterically perfect for the safety and well being of those attending the meeting. There were no windows in three of the walls. The fourth wall, the one backing the rear of the house, contained two small windows which were covered in a dark material that firmly rejected any light from entering. The single door in the same wall was open and through it emerged Noah and Richard, shielding their eyes with upraised hands as the sun’s rays sought to infiltrate them after being assuaged by the obscurity of the house’s interior. It was difficult to determine how many persons were present, but probably in excess of a hundred; significantly most appeared to be of patrician rank since their clothing, speech and demeanour clearly defined their standing. At the rear of the garden was a raised rostrum with a podium placed in its centre. Eight chairs were arranged on the rostrum, four to each side of the podium. There was an air of electric expectancy - an overwhelming feeling that something monumental was about to be revealed. Muted voices, nodding of heads, whispers concealed behind open hands; every action pointed unequivocally to the beginning and to the conclusion of a momentous event.
Richard’s interest, however, was concentrated elsewhere. Was Esther present at the meeting? Straining his neck to get a better view didn’t help; it was clear that only a few women were present and the ones he could see were much older than Esther. He felt a sense of disappointment and was about to accept her absence as a fact when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He looked around. The frown that had been deeply etched on his face was immediately transformed into a huge, open-mouthed, smile.
Esther looked beautiful. Her long blonde hair was being blown awry by the light breeze pervading the garden. She placed the fingers of one of her hands above a perfectly shaped nose and drew back some recalcitrant strands of hair which appeared determined to blanket her face. The full length, feathery white dress she was wearing was tied loosely at the waist by a deep pink sash; on her feet were sandals in a perfectly matching colour. Richard was speechless; Noah grinned.
‘Aren’t you going to greet Esther?’ he asked, still smiling. ‘Or are you going to continue to look like a child after being shown its first toy?’
Richard ignored the riposte.
‘Esther, you look great,’ he said. ‘Especially after seeing you looking so emba
rrassed during Ezra’s vir triumphalis - we spotted you alongside Marcus Annius Verus on one of those ridiculous trundling chariots. You looked as if the last thing you wanted was to be dragged around on the whim of an out-of-control megalomaniac!’
Esther simply smiled.
‘I’m quite well Richard,’ she said. ‘Except for a minor occurrence involving Ezra which I would rather not relate at this time because I am sure it will be a subject raised at the meeting.’
Richard was about to reply when Amos Caelius Aquila appeared through the open garden door and began making his way towards the rostrum. In his wake strode Obadiah Cornelius Scipio, Joshua Tullius Cicero and, to gasps of surprise, Terra Nova’s High Priest Jonah Decimus Canus. This quartet was not only drawn from the highest echelons of Terra Novan society but also reflected the quality of those persons committed to the success of the aims of Licencia ex Persecution. The attendees parted, some bowing deferentially, some lightly applauding, others smiling but all buoyed by the knowledge that the long anticipated meeting, the one which was to decide what must be done about Ezra, the Great Leader, was about to commence.
Noah placed one hand on Esther’s shoulder, the other on Richard’s.
‘Let us find a more suitable vantage point,’ he said. ‘much closer to the front where we can hear better and perhaps take an active part in the meeting. Follow me!’
***
Amos Caelius Aquila is renowned and revered throughout Terra Nova for an innate ability to investigate, discuss and enunciate with clarity the truth of his and others opinions. The dichotomy he constantly has to face is the one which exists between himself and his brother Ezra. The diametrical opposites dividing them causes him pain, frustration, anger and, most of all, a never ending search for the most equitable way to come to terms with his brother’s extraordinary behaviour. He could arrange for his brother’s death, imprisonment, banishment, transportation or any of a long list of punishments. But they are brothers after all and propinquity is not something that can be easily cast aside like an old cloak.
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