Anno Mortis

by Rebecca Levene

  The man nodded and they carried on in silence. The thought of people and noise and light drew Petronius. And there was safety in a crowd, too. The cultists hid what they did. He doubted they'd dare attack in a public place.

  Soldiers guarded the gates of the city. They eyed Boda and the barbarian man askance, but Petronius lifted his chin and told them he'd been visiting his family's tomb, and after a moment's hesitation they let him through. He heard them mutter something about the catacombs being crowded tonight and wondered how many cultists had made it back to Rome before them.

  The younger man looked about him in wonder as they walked down the Appian Way towards the heart of the city. He wasn't much older than Petronius, but his long, bony face looked like it had seen a great deal more unpleasantness. He had the sort of ugliness that could be almost attractive, in the right circumstances.

  "Your first time in Rome?" Petronius asked him.

  The man laughed, a disbelieving gulp. "I live here. I was here three days ago. I just didn't expect to be returning so soon."

  Narcissus took them to a tavern he'd sometimes been allowed to visit with Claudius's other household slaves. It was dark and dingy, the torches inside filling it with a choking smoke - a place for plebs, not patricians. The owner recognised him and cleared a table by the door.

  After they sat down, they stared at each other for a minute in silence. Narcissus found his eyes drawn to the barbarian woman. She looked ill-used, face blood-stained and limbs bruised. She sat as if it pained her but held her back straight and proud. Beside her, her friend slouched. His face was still soft with youth, but his large brown eyes and full mouth had the arrogant cast of a high-born Roman. Narcissus wondered if the woman was his lover.

  The youth saw him looking and raised an eyebrow. "I'm Petronius of the Octavii," he said. "And this is Boda, my—" He caught her eye and swallowed whatever he'd been about to say. "Boda, a woman of the northern tribes."

  "That's Vali, also of my people," Boda said. "He was the one who first told me about the Cult."

  Narcissus glanced between them, shocked. It hadn't occurred to him that they knew each other. Was it a coincidence, or had Vali planned to rescue her all along? He looked at the other man, but his face was unreadable as he nodded a greeting to the barbarian woman. Narcissus was sharply reminded of how little he actually knew about him. Do you trust me? Vali had asked, and Narcissus was fairly sure that he didn't.

  "And your name and clan?" Boda asked. "You're not Roman, are you?"

  "I'm Greek," Narcissus said. "I'm Narcissus, a slave of the Emperor Caligula and Vali's travelling companion. Though you seem to know more about him than I do."

  Petronius studied Narcissus and Vali closely. "You saved Boda's life, so I suppose I should thank you. But on the other hand, I don't think you actually meant to. What were you doing in the catacombs?"

  "And how did you get there?" Boda asked.

  Narcissus shrugged, helpless to answer. His head was still spinning from everything that had happened, and he saw flashes behind his eyelids of the strange place they'd travelled through to return to Rome.

  "We've been to Alexandria," Vali told her. "In the hold of the Cult's ship."

  Petronius frowned. "They own a ship? Smuggling, I suppose, but what could they want?"

  "Beetles," Narcissus said. And then, remembering what Vali had told him, "Scarab beetles, which the Egyptians believe carry messages from the dead."

  "Everything comes back to that, doesn't it?" Boda said. "Everything we know about the Cult. We know they animate the bodies of the dead. And we know they sacrifice the living - maybe to help them raise the dead. I think if you hadn't saved me, my blood would have revived Josephus's corpse."

  Petronius shuddered, then nodded. "We know that they venerate Isis, of course, and maybe the other gods of Egypt."

  "We know they have powerful friends," Narcissus added. "The previous slave who investigated their ship was - she was stopped and punished."

  "Yes," Petronius said. "Seneca's a member, and many others of high family."

  "But what do they want?" Narcissus said. "Why sacrifice the living? Why bring back the dead?"

  Boda shrugged. "Perhaps their goddess demands it. I've heard that foreign gods can be cruel."

  Petronius smiled a little. "Whereas your own, of course, are masters of rationality and kindness."

  She glared at him a moment, then looked away. "War isn't kind, but Tiu and Odin reward those who fight it with courage and honour."

  "Isis isn't cruel either," Narcissus said. "Some of Claudius's other slaves used to make offerings at her temple. They told me she's the sister-wife of Osiris, ruler of the Egyptian gods, and she's said to take a special care of the poor and downtrodden. If she's demanding these sacrifices it isn't because she enjoys blood for its own sake. There must be some other reason."

  "But her husband is lord of the underworld, who sits in judgement on the dead. Perhaps he's the one who wants this," Vali said.

  "And just how," said Petronius, "does a barbarian like you know so much about the gods of Egypt?"

  It was a good question. Suddenly Vali had three sets of eyes trained on him, none of them entirely friendly.

  He shifted uncomfortably. "I could just as easily ask each of you what your interest is in this."

  "You know what my interest is," Boda said. "You were the one who showed me where to find Josephus's body."

  "And I was auditing the Empire's records," Narcissus said. "I travelled to the docks to track the missing cargo, and you rescued me there."

  Their gaze switched to Petronius, who shrugged. "I was bored. And Seneca was clearly up to something much more interesting than sitting on my arse copying out his quite extraordinarily dull speeches." He looked back at Vali. "So that's us explained. How about you?"

  The other man lowered his eyes and smiled crookedly. "I could tell you the truth, but you wouldn't believe me."

  "I think we would," Petronius said. "How much more improbable could it be than walking corpses and gateways to nowhere?"

  Vali gazed at him a long moment. The lone torch by their table cast the shadow of his nose sharply across his cheek. "Sopdet is my sister," he said finally.

  Petronius snorted. "You're right - I don't believe you. You're about as Egyptian as I am."

  He was right. With his pale skin and fiery hair, Vali was clearly a man of the far, cold north. And yet... Narcissus remembered the way the other man's face had seemed to shift and change in the library of Alexandria, and suddenly it didn't seem quite so unlikely.

  But Vali just shrugged and raised his palms, as if he'd been caught out in a lie. "Very well. Then this is the truth. I'm the Cult's enemy. And I'll do anything that's needed to stop them."

  Boda's tilted her head as she looked at him. "Stop them doing what?"

  "Opening the gates of death."

  "They've done that already," Petronius said. "We've all seen it."

  "They have," Vali said. "But only very briefly, just long enough to revive one body."

  "You think they want to do it for longer? To let more dead spirits through?" Boda asked.

  Vali shook his head, expression grim. "No. I believe they want to open them permanently - to erase the barrier between life and death for ever."

  Petronius clicked his fingers suddenly, face lighting up. "When we overheard Sopdet and Seneca talking, she said something about tonight's ceremony being important - special somehow." He turned to Boda. "Do you remember?"

  She frowned. "I think so. She said that the sacrifice..." She laughed humourlessly. "That my sacrifice would be the thirteenth."

  "That's right," Petronius said. "It sounded as if, whatever they're trying to do, tonight would have completed it."

  Boda nodded. "And it had to be done at the dark of the moon, they said that too."

  "That means they can try again in a month, doesn't it?" Narcissus said. "And even if we aren't sure what they want, we can be pretty certain we want to stop it."r />
  "How?" Petronius said. "The great and the good of Rome are members of the Cult. Why should anyone listen to us?"

  "Why indeed?" said another voice, one Narcissus instantly recognised. If he hadn't been so caught up in his own conversation, he might have noticed that all the others around them had stalled.

  "Narcissus," Caligula said. "What a surprise to see you here."

  The Emperor was surrounded by his Praetorian Guard. Their scarlet cloaks looked black in the dim light. Narcissus knew them all by name but none of them would meet his eyes as he fell to his knees in front of his master.

  Caligula slid into his empty chair. "I must say, this was the last place I expected to find you. Runaway slaves usually have the good sense to, as the name implies, run away."

  Narcissus tried to swallow past the dry lump in his throat. "I wasn't trying to escape, dominus."

  Caligula's face tightened with displeasure but Narcissus ploughed on. It wasn't as if he could make this any worse. "I found a discrepancy in the audit, and I went to the docks to investigate."

  "Yes," Caligula said, "so Julia told me when I put her to the torture."

  Narcissus squeezed his eyes shut to banish the images this conjured. When he opened them again, Caligula was staring at him.

  "And what happened at the docks?" the Emperor asked. "It must have been truly fascinating, to keep you so long from your duty."

  "I was trapped on board a ship. It put to sea before I could escape. But I found what I was looking for, dominus - evidence that the Cult of Isis have been smuggling scarab beetles into Rome to use in their ceremonies to raise the dead."

  Caligula rocked back in his chair, eyebrow raised. "I'm amazed. My uncle never told me you were such an accomplished storyteller."

  There was a muffled sound as Boda tried to speak and Petronius clapped a hand over her mouth. She mumbled indignantly behind it as Caligula turned to look at her.

  "You have something to say?" he asked.

  Petronius shook his head. "Nothing, Caesar. My slave merely intended to denounce this villain. Had we known we were drinking with a runaway slave we would, of course, have reported him to the authorities. I feel sullied."

  Caligula studied him for a long time. Then he smiled. "I'm pleased to hear it. Cowardice has always been something I cultivate in my subjects. It causes so many fewer problems than bravery. You, your slave and your barbarian friend may go."

  It was a dismissal, and Narcissus's three companions didn't lose any time in obeying it. He watched them disappear through the door of the bar and knew that his last hope went with them.

  "And you," Caligula said, "will come with me. It's been far too long since I've seen a crucifixion and I'm looking forward to yours immensely."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Boda walked in silent fury through the bustling night-time streets. She kept her mouth clamped tight shut. She knew if she opened it something would emerge which was likely to get her killed. Petronius still owned her, she needed to remember that. The fact that he'd fought briefly by her side didn't make him her friend.

  "I know what you're thinking," he said. "If you'd spoken he would have killed us all."

  She couldn't control herself. "And preserving your life is, of course, your first concern."

  "Yes," he bit out. "My life - and yours too."

  "And Narcissus's life," Vali said, and she jerked a startled look at him. She'd forgotten he was there. He drew to a halt, pulling them beneath the awning of a baker's, shut for the night. "Caligula won't give him an easy or a quick death - there's no fun in it for him."

  Petronius flinched, but Vali put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Which means you've bought us time to try and save him."

  "Oh," Petronius said. "Of course - naturally, that was my intention."

  Boda shot him a disparaging look and he blushed and dropped his eyes. "How can we save him?" she said. "That man was the Caesar, wasn't he? God-king of the Romans. There's no power in this city greater than his."

  Petronius shook his head, smiling beneath his curling black hair. "You've got it back to front. Caligula's weak, not strong. All my father's friends said so, when they thought there was no one near to overhear. He's terrified he'll be killed and replaced like Julius Caesar was. Any other power - any rival power - is a huge danger to him."

  Vali was smiling too, the expression less joyful and more sly on his angular face. "You think he'd see the Cult as a threat."

  "The Cult is a threat, isn't it? If the dead rise, what becomes of Rome or its rulers?"

  Boda understood. There had been a king of a neighbouring tribe who ordered killed every boy child whose height or strength exceeded his. In the end, his wife had put a knife in his back before he could murder his own son. "But we need proof," she said. "The Emperor won't take our word."

  "Even with proof, he might not listen to us," Petronius said, suddenly despondent. "He's a lunatic."

  "But there is someone he listens to," Vali said. "His uncle, Claudius, who was Narcissus's master before him. If we brought our story to him, he might convince his nephew we're telling the truth."

  Petronius shrugged. "It's worth a try, isn't it? It's not as if Narcissus has anything else to lose."

  They led Narcissus outside the walls of Rome again, through the Esquiline Gate. The soldiers on guard saluted as they passed, fists thumping against the leather of their cuirasses. The sound rang loud in his head.

  Outside the gates, the rows of crosses began. Only slaves and foreigners were crucified. The punishment was considered too humiliating, too agonising for a citizen to endure. He could hear the sobs of some of those hanging above his head. They were begging for a mercy they knew they wouldn't be granted. Narcissus was sure he'd be begging too, before the end. The line of crosses stretched into the distance. Even Tiberius hadn't killed so many and he'd been notorious for his love of slaughter.

  Caligula kept snatching glances at him. The Emperor was relishing his fear. His mouth was twisted in a smile of cruel pleasure.

  Narcissus's steps began to drag. He tried to keep walking, to keep his dignity, but his body rebelled against him. It didn't want to die, and especially not this way. In the end, the Praetorian guards to either side dragged him by his arms. He wished they'd look him in the eye. He wished that Vali were there, even if there was nothing he could do to help, or Petronius, or Boda. It would have been good to see a friendly face.

  When they reached their destination, a cross lay on the ground waiting for him. The wood was newly cut and he could smell the sweet sap as they laid him against it.

  Caligula stood beside his head. When they brought the nails he held out his hand. "Give them to me," he said. "I want to do it."

  The soldier hesitated, glancing uneasily between Caesar and his commander.

  Marcus, the captain of the Praetorian Guard, stepped forward and bowed. "It wouldn't be wise, my lord. The placing of the nails needs to be exact. If they don't fit between the bones of the wrist they're likely to come loose."

  Caligula pouted, but he dropped his hand. "Go ahead then. I'll just watch." He knelt on the ground beside Narcissus's head, his purple toga trailing in the dust.

  Narcissus shut his eyes as Marcus crouched beside him. A moment later rough fingers pinched his eyelid and pulled it open. He gasped and tried to blink but it was held fast.

  "Oh no you don't," Caligula said. "I want you to watch. I command it."

  For a wild moment, Narcissus thought of asking what Caligula could threaten to oblige his obedience. What more could the Emperor do to him? But he didn't ask the question because he feared the answer.

  Marcus gripped his tongue between his teeth as he positioned the nail against Narcissus's wrist. His eyes flicked up a moment and Narcissus flinched at the sympathy in them. Then he screamed as the nail was hammered home.

  He thought he'd known what pain was on the Cult's ship, but it didn't compare to this. Each strike of the hammer rang up the nerves of his arm to resonate in his mi
nd. And the pain went on and on, even when the nail had been driven home. The slightest shift, the slightest movement, grated the metal against the nerve and launched a fresh spear of agony.

  His left arm was stretched out and then the other nail was hammered in. Now he could think of nothing but the pain. His mind seemed to expand to encompass it. He could see Caligula saying something. The Emperor's lips moved and there was a hum of sound, but it meant nothing.

  Then they began to lift the cross. As Narcissus rose, his weight pulled down on his arms and the pain increased still further. He hoped he'd pass out, like he had on the ship. But he'd lost Vali's coin when he swam to Alexandria and there was no escape into darkness here.

  His cross had been placed on a hill. When they'd pulled him upright, the soldiers grunting at the strain, he had a view over the whole of Rome. The city's streets were arteries of light, and the clamour of traffic reached even this far outside the walls. A million people lay in front of him, but he would die alone.

  Only Vali's fast-talking and Petronius's charm saw them through the gates of the Imperial Palace. After ten minutes of confused wandering, they found Claudius deep inside, sitting in a room lit by the faint pre-dawn light of the unseen sun. The old man looked up as they entered, eyes watery and wary.

  Petronius had heard his father talk disparagingly about Caesar's uncle. They said he was a simpleton. "My lord," he said, bowing, "may we beg an audience with you?"

  "With me? D-d-do I know you, young man?" The words sounded like they were sticking on something in his throat, and a thin line of drool trickled down Claudius's chin as he spoke.

  Vali stepped forward. "We've come to ask for your help. We're friends of your slave, Narcissus."

  "Narcissus? Are you here from m-m-my nephew?"

  "Your nephew is the Caesar, isn't he?" Boda said.

  "He is. And you're a gladiator, if I'm n-n-not mistaken."