Marcus thought about it. He understood why Festus was concerned. But perhaps the bodyguard was being overcautious. In any case, he had heard about the famous Oracle when living on Leucas and was curious to see the temple for himself. He turned to Festus.
‘I don’t see that there’s much risk in having a look.’
Festus sighed with frustration. ‘All right then. But stay close-lipped, and if I say we head back here, then there’ll be no arguments. Is that understood?’
The boys nodded and Festus shook his head. He sat down, propping his head against his pack and closing his eyes as he muttered, ‘I pray to the Gods that nothing bad will come of this.’
The meal, a stew of goat and herbs, was nowhere near as satisfying as the meals they had cooked for themselves in the mountains, but it was filling. They paid the bill and left the inn, one of many small establishments lining the square opposite the entrance to the temple precinct. With Lupus leading, the three of them passed between the columns and tall studded gates to make their way inside the wall that separated the sacred ground from the outside world. A paved courtyard stretched round the temple, illuminated by several large braziers fed with bundles of wood by junior officials of the temple in plain white tunics.
The three visitors looked up in awe as they slowly approached the steps leading to the door. Above them, the pediment carried a painted relief of the God Apollo driving a gilded chariot that shone fiery red in the glow of the braziers. On closer inspection Marcus decided that the whole precinct had a rundown appearance. Much of the faded ochre paint on the columns was peeling. The gold that had once flowed into the hands of those running the temple had all but dried up.
‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ Lupus commented.
Festus shrugged. ‘Big. Yes. Seen better back in Rome. At least our temples and shrines are looked after properly.’
‘But they are only copies of the Greek originals,’ Lupus replied with a touch of irritation. ‘So much of what we have was inspired by the Greeks. An amazing civilization.’
‘If they were so amazing, I wonder how they became part of our empire and not the other way round,’ Festus answered drily.
Lupus ignored him as he craned his neck to inspect the relief of Apollo. Marcus followed his example briefly, then lowered his gaze to look around the precinct. A handful of other people stood admiring the temple, while a wizened priest sat on the steps behind a small altar. He looked bored, but soon stood when he saw Marcus and his companions draw closer to the temple.
‘Good evening, sirs. Care to make a donation to the upkeep of the temple?’ He rattled a small wooden box. His voice dropped and his eyes narrowed beneath their bushy brows as he stared at them. ‘Or, for a more generous payment, you could be given a glimpse of your future …’
Festus shook his head and laughed. ‘Away with you! We’ll not be taken in by your racket.’
‘Racket?’ The priest frowned, then drew himself up to his full height, some inches shorter than Festus, and touched his spare hand to his breast. ‘Sir, do you dare to scorn the Oracle, here on the very ground that was sanctified by the God Apollo?’
Lupus nudged Festus in the ribs. ‘Thought we weren’t trying to draw any attention to ourselves …?’
Festus muttered a curse, then bowed his head in apology. ‘I am sorry. I am a weary traveller. I spoke without thought.’
‘Then you are forgiven, my boy.’ The priest made a gesture with his hand, then held out the box again. ‘And I’m sure a little something extra would go some way to appeasing Apollo.’
As Festus growled and reached for his purse Marcus took a step towards the priest, a strange gleam in his eyes. ‘Wait, you said you could see into the future.’
The priest tutted. ‘That’s what we do here, as I am sure you’re aware. For a small fee.’
Marcus stared back at him. ‘How much?’
‘The great men who have come here to know their destiny paid great sums for the privilege. But for ordinary mortals a lesser sum is acceptable.’
‘How much?’ Marcus asked again, impatient with the old priest. ‘To tell me my future. How much?’
The priest eyed the three visitors shrewdly and tilted his head slightly to one side. ‘You are clearly Romans of modest means. But Apollo takes an interest in all mortals for a small sum. Shall we say … five denarii?’
‘What?’ Festus’s eyebrows rose in shock. ‘FIVE denarii! Are you mad?’
The priest pointed a gnarled finger. ‘I’ve already warned you. Do I call the temple guards to throw you out?’
‘Pay him,’ Marcus said firmly.
Festus turned to look at him in astonishment. ‘It’s too much, Marcus.’
‘There’s something I must know,’ Marcus countered. ‘The money was entrusted to me as well by … by our former master. Please, Festus, pay him.’
Marcus stared at the bodyguard intently for a moment before the latter shook his head and took out five silver coins from his purse. He hesitated a moment before slapping them down on the altar. ‘There. I hope it’s worth it.’
The priest hastily scraped the coins into his palm, then raised one to bite on it with his remaining teeth. He held it up and squinted before nodding and feeding the coins into the slot on top of his box. Closing his eyes, he raised his face towards the night sky and his lips moved silently.
‘Well?’ Festus demanded.
‘Shhh!’ The priest’s brow furrowed. ‘I was just beseeching divine Apollo to accept your humble offering. Do not tax his patience any further, Roman, if you want him to look kindly on this boy’s desire to know his fate.’
Festus glanced at Marcus and raised his eyebrows. Marcus was not put off by his cynicism but watched the priest closely, hoping fervently that the God of the temple would take pity on him and tell him the one thing he needed to know more than anything else: would he succeed in rescuing his mother?
The priest cocked an ear, as if listening, then nodded and bowed his head before he opened his eyes and turned to Marcus.
‘Mighty Apollo deigns to answer your request, my boy. Quite a privilege.’ He shot a quick look of annoyance at Festus. ‘Despite the bad manners of your companion. A word of warning, though. If the Oracle replies, it may be that the answer is not clear at first. But if you think it through, then you will know the meaning of the words. Now, follow me.’
He turned and started stiffly making his way up the steps with Marcus a few paces behind him.
‘Oi!’ Festus called out, indicating himself and Lupus. ‘What about us?’
The priest glanced back. ‘Yes, yes. You too. Might as well. But keep your mouths shut and show some respect.’
At the top of the stairs he led them through the columns towards the large doors of the inner sanctum. A brazier stood on either side, casting an eerie glow over the columns that towered up on either side. The priest paused in front of the doors and reached to the side for a brass-capped stick. He solemnly struck the door three times and cleared his throat.
‘Oh, mighty Apollo! Is your mouthpiece, the blessed Pythia, prepared to offer guidance to he who would know his destiny?’
There was a pause and then a voice spoke, loud and deep, as if echoing from the back of a great cave.
‘Come!’
The doors began to move, and there was a rumbling groan from the iron hinges. Marcus felt his pulse quicken as he looked past the priest into the darkness at the heart of the temple. He strained his eyes but could pick out nothing beyond the doors, save the flagstones nearest the entrance. The priest entered, gesturing to Marcus and the others to follow him inside. Their footsteps echoed off the walls rising invisibly around them. Marcus could see no sign of the person who had called on them to enter. The dim form of the priest stopped and struggled down on to his knees. Marcus and the others waited a short distance behind him.