Lynne Ellison's The Green Bronze Mirror

by Christopher Posner

left the shop, and Leacus went to tell the others. Did you see him?'

  Leacus was the tall, silent freedman from Thrace who knew where to find each member of the group, and who used to inform them of alterations in the meeting-times.

  'No, we didn't see him,' said Kleon, 'but he left a ….Shhh! What's that?'

  Above their heads they heard the scrape of sandals on stone and

  the clink of metal.

  Soldiers!' said Rhoda, her eyes wide as a voice barked: 'All right, men. Orders are to search the place for Christians and bring ‘em out if possible. The emperor's got plans for ‘em.' There were a few harsh laughs and the sergeant said, 'Now then! Which of you's going in first?'

  'Not me,' said somebody else. 'I'm afraid of the dark, I am. Bring me a torch, Titus. If you ask me, we'll never find 'em- not in there.'

  'And not if you don't get a move-on, mate,' said the sergeant. 'Quick march!'

  The Christians looked at one another.

  'Split up,' said Thrasyllus, 'and don't get caught.' He strode away soundlessly.

  'We'd be better not to stay together,' said Kleon. 'Goodbye for now. Take care and try not to get lost. From what I've heard it's not very difficult.'

  Karen nodded and ran. A moment later, when the soldiers came down the steps, all was quiet in the great, dank hallway, except for the slow dripping of water somewhere in the passages.

  Karen was too frightened to look where she was going. She went down one corridor and turned down another, and then another, hurrying desperately until at last she stopped, her heart pounding. The passages were getting narrower the farther she went, and very dark. They were made of hewn stone, rough to the touch, and the walls were riddled with small, rectangular niches. The floors were covered in dust, and dirty cobwebs stretched across the openings in the walls, old and full of grey filth.

  The narrowness of the passages made Karen feel panic-stricken and claustrophobic. They were just wide enough for her to get through, and only about six feet high. She could just edge past some of the narrower places by squeezing herself up as small as possible.

  She listened, breathing hard. Yes, there it was again- faint, hesitant footsteps coming down the next passage. Friend or foe? The feet were heavily sandalled, and light from a torch flickered across the floor of the corridor she was in. Foe it was- she could see that now- and two of them at that. She pressed back against the wall, feeling utterly trapped. If they looked in her direction then they would see her easily. She prayed silently, and a slow trickle of sweat ran down the backs of her arms.

  She could see the man now. He was standing with his back to her and looking down another corridor, with the torch held high. The yellow light slid over the stones, danced momentarily on Karen's face, and then was gone.

  ‘The passages were getting narrower the farther she went, and very dark.’

  'There's nothing here at all,' said the man. 'Creepy, ain't it?' He moved on, without looking Karen's way.

  She felt weak at the knees and sagged against the damp stone wall. Then a thought struck her. When the soldier came back along the passage- and presumably he would- he would probably search the passages on his other side, namely her own. She had better get out quickly.

  She went back along it as fast as she could, hoping the men wouldn't hear or see her, stopped in the adjoining passage, and waited. Sure enough, the flickering light fell in a stripe across the floor to her left, and a voice said, 'Nothing here.'

  'Wait! What's that?'

  Karen's heart stood still.

  'A sandal, isn't it? And it can't belong to one of our men. So there are Christians here!'

  Karen hadn't noticed the loss of the sandal, but now she felt the cold damp stone under her right foot, and realized that it was hers. The soldiers went on talking.

  'Shall we go down there, then? We might catch him- or her.'

  'Aw, don't let's bother. This place gets on my nerves, without bein' lost in it. Do you know the way back?'

  'Sort of. Okay, let's go back. That passage's too narrow fer me in me armour, anyhow.'

  The light vanished, leaving the Catacomb darker than ever, and the footsteps faded away.

  Now what, Karen asked herself. Should I stay here or what? Should I try and find the entrance again? Even as she thought about it, she realized she had no idea where the entrance was. It was frightening to be lost in this dreadful dark maze. She longed for light and sun, instead of gloom and dusty tombs.

  'If only I could find a nice, safe, warm niche to sit in and wait for Kleon,' she whispered, and set out to look for one.

  She felt along the walls- it was pitch-black- and found another entrance. She went in slowly, not able to see a thing.

  It was when she was about half way in that she heard a dry rustle and the low hiss of a snake. She gasped in a spasm of sudden terror and stopped.'

  'Don't be afraid,' she heard a human voice saying. 'He's in a basket.' The voice was slow and husky, a woman's voice. Karen could feel the hair stirring on the back of her neck.

  XII

  'WHO ARE YOU?' SHE MANAGED TO SAY AT LAST.

  'Locusta.'

  ‘Who?'

  'Locusta. Perhaps you've heard of me?'

  'Yes, I think your name does ring a bell. Oh, I remember now. You're ... er .. you're Nero's poisoner.'

  A low laugh rang around the cell. 'In a manner of speaking, yes. I live for science, you might say. But they don't like me- as if it's my fault what the emperor does with the things I have to make for him!'

  'I- I'm sorry I blundered in on you.'

  'Oh, that's all right. You see, I meant you to, so you couldn't help it. You were looking for somewhere to wait, weren't you? Come and sit down, anyway. It's nice and comfy here; I brought my wolfskin.'

  Karen sat down on the hairy rug, and Locusta rummaged around, whispering to herself. Suddenly a candle lighted. She held it up.

  'Now I can see you properly,' she said. 'And you can see me. Am I all that terrifying?'

  'No,' said Karen. 'You're not. I was frightened of your snake really.'

  Locusta was beautiful in an eerie way. Her face was finely shaped, with high cheek-bones and large eyes, black as night. Her hair was long and auburn, falling back over her shoulders in a wild tangle. She looked young, not more than twenty-five.

  'Well, you seem quite a sensible girl,' she said. 'But you don't need to be afraid of the snake. He's very tame; almost a pet now.'

  She lifted the lid of a basket and extracted a handsome snake, about three feet long and ringed with black and red. The coils glistened in the candlelight, and the snake wound himself around Locusta's arm.

  Karen felt herself interested in the reptile in spite of her former fears. 'Is he poisonous?' she asked, and Locusta laughed.

  'Oh yes,' she said, but not unpleasantly. 'But he wouldn't bite you unless I told him to.'

  Cautiously Karen put out her hand and stroked the flat, diamond-shaped head. The snake's forked tongue flickered out and in and he swayed from side to side.

  'He likes that,' said Locusta, 'don't you, snake?' She turned to Karen. 'I suppose you're one of the Christians?'

  'Yes- we hid when the soldiers came. I hope they've gone now.'

  'They haven't, but they won't find us here.'

  'Why not? I mean, why shouldn't they?'

  'I closed the entrance to this cell after you'd got in safely.'

  Karen stared. 'How?'

  Locusta smiled her mysterious smile. 'That's my special secret. I let you in because you were not an enemy. But if those stupid soldiers came here it would be blank wall to them.'

  'Are you a witch or something?' Karen hoped she wouldn't be offended, but she had to know.

  'I have the Power, yes, so I suppose you might say I was a witch. But I don't like the word; it implies evil, and I'm not evil, I assure you. I don't work black magic- or not unless I have to.'

  An idea occurred to Karen t
hen, a fantastic idea, but one which opened the doors to hope. She tried it tentatively.

  'You don't know anything about travelling through time, do you?'

  Locusta looked at her closely. She took Karen's face between her hands and stared into her eyes. Finally she said, 'Yes- I see what you mean. You're not of this time, are you?'

  Karen suddenly felt that Locusta might understand, so she told her about the twentieth century and how much she wanted to get back. She explained about the mirror too, and Locusta clicked her tongue.

  'You looked into it, I suppose,' she said. 'That was a silly thing to do.'

  'Well, I didn't know,' said Karen. She knew herself that it had been a silly thing to do; she had no need of telling.

  'Didn't you feel the magic in it?'

  'It did sort of vibrate. But there isn't magic in the twentieth century. People don't believe in it.'

  'There's always magic,' said Locusta. 'Sometimes it's stronger than at other times. It's supposed to be particularly strong at the moment. Anyway, about that mirror. It belongs to some Druid in Britain; it's quite well-known among us.'

  'Do you know how I could get back, though?'

  Locusta stared into the candle-flame, and the pupils of her eyes gradually widened until the eyes were like great black holes in her face, with two little orange flames mirrored in them. The flames hardly flickered in the power of her gaze, and even the snake in his basket was still.

  Finally she said slowly: 'I myself cannot help you because I did not make the mirror. But there is hope-' Karen opened her mouth to shout with joy, but Locusta motioned to her to be silent - 'if you can get back to Britain and find the mirror and the owner of it.'