The Blood of the Martyrs

by Naomi Mitchison

  Phaon said softly, ‘Oh, I’m so happy.’ Manasses and Niger from the two benches each reached out and touched him; his hands fell on their arms and he began to sing, low, almost wordlessly. For a time he was the focus. Then he stood up, slipping away from the arms of his friends, picked up a lump of chalk, went over to the middle furnace, and with two sweeps of his arm drew a fish across the brickwork. The others turned towards it and murmured the Name words: Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Saviour. With a dancing step, Phaon came back to the half circle, joined again in the nearness.

  From the far side of the table, Phineas spoke in a low voice. ‘I have sinned against Jesus and the Kingdom. I have not been kind to the widow who is staying with us.’ ‘Why not?’ Manasses asked. ‘I didn’t want anybody else in our home. I let her see it.’ Manasses said, ‘You can be kinder now. You will be.’ Lalage said, ‘Where there are two together they have to be very careful not to cut themselves and one another off from the Kingdom.’ Euphemia said, ‘We understand, don’t we, friends?’ ‘When you are kind to her, you will know our forgiveness,’ Manasses said.

  Again there was peace. Beric saw Niger’s broad, black hands stroking Argas’s cheeks and neck; it was very odd, but he did not feel disturbed at all. He himself leant back, the taste of honey and bread crust in his mouth, his head against Manasses’s knee. He used to dislike and distrust Manasses: disliked because distrusted. He remembered Saturnalia last year and the great ragging of the Jewish slaves in which he had joined. Where had Argas and Phaon been in that rag? Probably, he thought, from his present knowledge of them all, Manasses had told them to keep out, not risk either hate and anger or saying something that would give them away; not to help him even though he was the deacon. Manasses would say it did no good for more to be hurt than need be. Queer how much it amused people to hurt others. Most amusements seemed to depend on pain of some kind. He had often been to the Arena with Crispus; now he didn’t think he’d ever want to go again. All that, the blood on the sand and everyone yelling for more, and in a small way the ragging of Manasses and Josias and the other Jews, that was an activity of the thing—the rule—that he had been part of: the thing whose weight was on him, that he would lose only at baptism. ‘When are you going to baptise me?’ he whispered again, up to Manasses.

  ‘Are you so sure, brother?’ Manasses asked.

  ‘Quite sure,’ Beric answered.

  ‘You’ll have to fast and pray,’ Manasses said. ‘You’ll do that, I know. And you’ll have questions to answer, from all of us, perhaps.’

  ‘The Way of Life?’

  ‘Yes. You know all that. I only wonder if you’re as sure as I hope you are. It means finishing with a great many things that mayn’t let you go as easily as you think now. That’s something that’ll be harder for you than if you’d just been a slave. You see, you may have to take action for the sake of the Kingdom. Or refuse to take action, which may be more difficult, and more dangerous, too. You’re young.’

  ‘I’m nearly as old as most of you. Older than you were when you were baptised, Manasses.’

  ‘Yes, but I’d been through it already. So have most of us. We’ve known what it is to be without the Kingdom—wanting it, though we didn’t know what it was we wanted—for months and years, in pain of our bodies. You only just know.’

  ‘Is there anything more I can do to be sure—and to make you sure of me?’

  ‘I don’t think so, son,’ Manasses said, and Beric felt how extraordinarily kind he was, trying to face a new difficulty, not by rules, but according to what it really was, allowing them all to be individuals—different and separate and yet all to be gathered into the same association.

  Lalage said, ‘But perhaps you’ll find something. Usually things turn up, if one’s looking for them.’ Then, speaking across him, she asked Manasses, ‘Shall we have the wine now?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Manasses, and took up the full wine-cup. ‘In Jesus’ Name,’ he said, and drank, then gave it to old Sophrosyne, next to him on the bench. ‘You have it last,’ he said to Beric.

  They passed it round, all drinking and saying the name of the One they followed. Beric watched, with the same kind of excitement he had got out of the feet washing. All these mouths were coming to his mouth. He had never thought deeply before about eating and drinking, about the mouth taking food and giving love and wisdom, the gate in the face opening and shutting, the lips that no animal has but only humans, the smilers, that show the blood through. All those lips on the cup and at last his own. He took it with hands that shook a little, and himself said the Name and set his mouth where the others had been and finished the wine which Argas had said was rather bad wine. What had it tasted like? He didn’t know. Only he was suddenly surprised at this eating and drinking which had been going on with nobody standing behind to wait on him. ‘This is a party,’ he said, ‘that’s a party for everybody at last!’

  Manasses and Argas both laughed. ‘Nothing but joy!’ said Lalage sighingly. She sat very close to him, looking into the flames of the lamps, her face stretched and intent. It seemed as though she were becoming an instrument for some unknown and unmeasured power. Manasses knew that look on her and thought that soon the Spirit might come to her and she would speak and tell them something which would stay in their minds for all the coming week.

  Niger said happily, ‘And I’m at this party too!’

  Euphemia said, ‘Not like their parties. Nothing but good for everyone.’

  And Josias said, ‘Why do they want to hurt us Christians? We do no one any harm.’

  But Argas said, ‘Our being able to be happy is harming them. Or will harm them some day.’

  ‘Happy,’ said Phaon, ‘happy. Oh, I do love you all!’

  And then suddenly Lalage spoke. ‘I think there is something wrong.’ Her whole body was trembling; the others stayed very still, startled and listening, but hearing nothing. She said, ‘Beric, you are with us but not of us. Go up quick and see!’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Beric, staring at her.

  ‘Quick,’ she said, ‘quick—go!’

  ‘Go!’ cried Manasses.

  So Beric ran across the room and up the twisting stairs and through the kitchen and along the passage into the front court and the flare of torches and suddenly the thing which Lalage had got the sense of down below. ‘What the hell are you doing here, Aelius Candidus?’ he shouted.

  ‘Hold that man, corporal!’ said Aelius Candidus.

  But Lalage had risen to her feet. ‘Let us pray,’ she said, ‘brothers and sisters, let us pray.’ ‘What for sister?’ asked Manasses. And Lalage answered, ‘For the strength Paul warned us we should need. Father, Thy Will be done on us!’ So all were on their feet, close together, praying aloud, led by Manasses and Lalage, and that was how they still were when the Praetorians came down the stairs into the boiler-room with Sotion pointing the way. And they prayed still as the chains were locked on, coupling them, except when one of the soldiers slapped a face or shoved an elbow into someone’s mouth to stop it. But none of them did that to Lalage, mostly to Josias and Niger and Dapyx. Behind them Sotion was pointing out the drawing of the fish on the wall. I ought to have seen what he was, Manasses thought, oh my little Church! What have I done wrong that this should have happened? And the misery of this began to stop his praying, and he knew he was being no use that way, so he tried to do something else. He said to Sotion, ‘I forgive you. You can’t have known what you were doing.’ Sotion ran at him and hit him furiously. Manasses didn’t even lift his chained hands. ‘Go on, hit him again, knock his teeth out!’ the soldier said. And Sotion hit once more, but after that he couldn’t.

  In the meantime Beric was doing some hard thinking and acting. He said to the two Praetorians who were holding him that Crispus would be extremely displeased, and that he, Beric, was the young master in this house! The soldiers said, rather apologetically, that they had their orders, but they wouldn’t keep hold so hard if he wouldn’t do anything stupid, but after al
l, they were only doing their duty and routing out a nest of Christians! Beric answered that he was interested in this too, as he had reason to suppose that dancing girl he was after was mixed up in all this, and when they smiled fairly respectfully and eased their grip on his arms, he got at his belt; at his right was a sharp, rather fancy knife that he often wore—a present from Crispus—and a purse at the left. Luckily he had a couple of pieces of silver, enough to be worthwhile for a Praetorian to accept. He slipped them over, adding that he thought it was all nonsense and they weren’t Christians, but only playing at it, and any how what was the point of arresting these miserable Christians? ‘But it was them set fire to the Circus Maximus!’ said one of his guards.

  ‘You don’t believe that story, do you?’ said Beric contemptuously.

  ‘Well,’ said the man, ‘that’s the charge they’re being arrested on.’

  The prisoners were brought through. ‘Remember,’ said Beric, ‘I’ve got to have a word with my little bit of skirt.’

  ‘That’s all right, sir,’ said the guard.

  He banked, and rightly, on their not knowing Greek. ‘What can I do, Lalage?’ he whispered.

  ‘Tell Crispus,’ she whispered back. ‘If he goes to Tigellinus and only claims his own slaves, that’s six of us. Tell Sapphira and Eunice.’

  ‘What’s going to happen?’

  ‘What we want is a public trial,’ she said, ‘not just to die in prison.’

  ‘Oh, Lalage, it can’t be that!’

  ‘We’ll see. I told you something would turn up to test you, Beric! It’s the power of the Will over us all, working out on our bodies.’

  ‘Hurry up, sir!’ said the guard.

  ‘I told them you were my mistress,’ Beric said, ‘say goodbye!’ He found it very peculiar kissing a woman in chains, difficult to press her convincingly against himself. He couldn’t think of anything but the chains, nor, for the moment, could she. The others who were chained too, having overheard, looked on and said nothing. All was in God’s hands now.

  CHAPTER IV

  The Tempting of Beric

  The prisoners were marched out of the house, Manasses and Argas especially taking care not to look directly at Beric in case anything showed. Aelius Candidus said to Beric, ‘You may think yourself lucky not to be under arrest too!’ ‘It’s all a complete misunderstanding!’ Beric said. ‘But you may join them yet, Mr Briton!’ Aelius Candidus added. Then he beckoned Sotion, who was hanging about, and paid him. Sotion followed the Praetorians and the prisoners out into the dark street. Beric followed him. Sotion tried to stick close to the soldiers, but the corporal growled at him and finally kicked him off. He slipped into a side alley. But when he peered round, saw it was no use. He began to run, which was hopeless, because Beric caught him in two street lengths; he had hardly breath to whimper. ‘How much did you get?’ Beric asked in a horribly calm voice. Sotion held out his shaking hand with the silver in it. Beric wrenched it round and the silver tinkled away into the gutter. Sotion went down on his knees in utter dribbling terror. ‘Did you give the other names?’ Beric asked. ‘Oh no, sir, not yours, sir, oh I swear it, don’t kill me, in Jesus’ Name don’t kill me—’ But Beric had drawn the little knife, and while Sotion clung to him, stabbed him behind the collarbone, saw that he’d got the artery, and kicked the dying creature away before the blood got all over him. He was back at the house by the time the porter and a couple of other slaves, all of whom had been held by the guard during the arrest, had picked themselves up and tried to decide what to do or say. He walked past them and straight to Flavius Crispus’s room.

  Flavius Crispus was most upset. Why had he not been told at once? Because everyone had been held under temporary arrest. But that was a most extraordinary procedure! However, he quite understood that there might be a case for arresting all Christians. In his own house, though! ‘You ought to have been more careful, Beric!’ he said, very reprovingly, ‘We might all have been murdered in our beds! I ought to have got rid of my Jewish slaves. Always giving trouble. That fellow Manasses had entire charge of the wine cellar and I’ve no idea where my Falernian is! Really, the thing’s a menace.’

  ‘It wasn’t only the Jews. Argas and Phaon are Greeks. And—’

  ‘You know, Beric, those dancing boys were treated like—like my own grandchildren! And this is all the gratitude one gets for pampering them. If you ever have slaves of your own, my boy, don’t make the mistake of treating them like human beings. They don’t deserve it.’

  Beric was thinking quicker than he’d ever done in his life. ‘About those dancing boys,’ he said, ‘if they’re put to the question, the usual way, they’ll be spoilt for life. It seems a pity.’

  ‘Of course it’s a pity. But if the little brutes go off with the Christians behind my back, that’s what they’ve got to expect!’

  That made it very difficult to know what to say next. Beric wasn’t used to this kind of lying. He began to feel a most uncomfortable and urgent need to tell Crispus the truth, to be sent to prison himself, to possible death and torture—only to be under God’s Will with the others! Crispus sat up in bed, frowning, drumming with his fingers on the sheet. And Beric was already in imagination on his knees beside him, saying that he was a Christian too, explaining everything, making Crispus see. But if Crispus didn’t? Well, it had got to be tried! But then Flavia came storming in, a cloak caught up over her nightgown, a lamp in her hand. ‘Father!’ she cried. ‘What’s happened? I want my maid and she’s not there! What’s all this nonsense about Candidus arresting our slaves?’

  Beric just couldn’t help saying, ‘Candidus has simply been doing the dirty work that is expected of Praetorian officers.’

  But Flavia snapped his head off, and Crispus answered her very solemnly, ‘What seems to have been going on in our house, my child, was a Christian meeting. We may think ourselves lucky not to have had our throats cut.’

  ‘It’s Tigellinus we have to thank for that!’ Flavia said. It was all being as exciting as the Arena: throats cut! ‘He must have had them arrested just in the nick of time. He’s so splendidly efficient!’

  Beric cut her short. ‘But there’s no suggestion that they were planning anything against you or any of us. What they were supposed to have done is to have gone along with candles and oil and set fire to the Circus Maximus!’

  That seemed to have some effect; Crispus said, ‘But that’s preposterous! My slaves accused of that! I shall have to find out exactly where they all were that night.’

  Beric remembered the night very well—and remembered that the Christians were all out of the house except Persis. ‘I happen to know,’ he said, ‘the boys were all over at Eunice’s. They often go. She’s a nice old thing.’

  ‘But it’s her son who is accused of being a Christian! They may have gone there to practise their filthy rites!’

  ‘Well,’ said Beric, ‘I was in there myself part of the time.’ He had a new idea—and the household would no doubt confirm it to Crispus! ‘As a matter of fact, I was there with Argas. Actually I and he—’ He coughed and looked in an embarrassed way at Flavia.

  Crispus quite understood. ‘Dear me. Well, that makes it tolerably certain. Where was your maid, Flavia?’

  ‘How should I know? Anyhow she’s too much of a little fool to do a thing like that. I’ve never seen a girl who squealed so easily at the least thing! But she’ll have something to squeal for tomorrow. I’ve got her trained to do my hair decently and I must have her back at once. I can’t imagine what Candidus was thinking about, arresting my maid two days before the wedding! I shall go to Tigellinus myself and insist on her release!’

  ‘Flavia!’ said Crispus, ‘I absolutely and categorically forbid you to ask Tigellinus any favours. Do you hear? I shall go to him personally—and stand on my rights. If Candidus had more experience he would have known he could not possibly arrest anybody in my house without referring to me first. I shall point that out to Tigellinus myself!’


  ‘But won’t that be dangerous—’

  ‘Dangerous, Beric? Frightened? I see you’re a barbarian still! Danger, indeed! The man simply comes and takes my property without with your leave or by your leave! There are certain decencies that must be observed: even by Nero’s friends. I shall go the first thing tomorrow morning. You and Hermeias are to come with me. I shall want a small chop for breakfast. Early breakfast. Now take the lamp and show Flavia to her room. Christians indeed! You certainly ought to have known there was something going on.’

  Beric dutifully took the lamp and lighted Flavia to her room, past the empty mattress which was Persis’s home. He said nothing. Nor did she till she was at the door; then she turned and looked him up and down. ‘So it’s little Argas! Not very interesting, I should have thought But everyone has their own tastes. Which of you is which?’

  ‘Shut up!’ said Beric.

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ Flavia said. ‘Trotting round with the slave boy—’

  But Beric had caught hold of her arm. ‘I’ve got something pretty to show you, Flavia. Look!’ He pulled out the knife.

  ‘Blood!’ she said, and pulled him quickly into her room. ‘What have you been doing? Who is it?’

  ‘You want to know, do you?’ said Beric. ‘Makes a man of me, doesn’t it! Well, I’ll tell you, Flavia. After the prisoners had been marched off, there was a little cowering money-grubber left, counting the silver pieces that handsome young officer of yours had thrown him. You see, he was the informer—the man who was paid by Tigellinus and his friends to get friendly with the Christians and then betray them. I don’t like that sort of person. So I killed him. It was very easy. I can’t make out why some people say it is difficult to kill a man.’