In the area of public security, he has performed outstandingly. When, a month ago, a boatload of Borani pirates were reported to be hiding on a small island south of Ephesus, he took prompt and decisive action. Thirty-two were killed and twelve enslaved and sold in the agora. While it is thought a few may have escaped to the mainland, it is most likely that these have subsequently been hunted down by the locals. The operation was carried out at the cost of just four auxiliaries dead and five wounded.
As far as the persecution of the Christians goes, Ballista has applied himself reasonably diligently, if with some seeming reluctance, until today. To celebrate the birthday of Great Artemis, Flavius Damianus had organized a splendid spectacle. Yet as it came to its climax, the burning alive of three notorious Christians, Ballista seized a bow from one of his guards and shot the criminals dead with his own hand. This extraordinary act cannot be interpreted other than as a shameless attempt to win favour with the mob. That would do. Hannibal sealed the letter with his frumentarius seaclass="underline" MILES ARCANUS. By next morning it would be on its way to Censorinus' office in the imperial palace at Antioch, winging its way along the cursus publicus at some fifty miles a day.
*
There was no moon, but the silver coins glinted in the starlight as they were counted out. There were a lot of them. There needed to be.
'It is enough.' The centurion did not try to keep the contempt out of his voice. 'Wait here. I heard something over by the Gymnasium of Vedius. I will take my boys to investigate. Half an hour – if you are still here when we return, you will not leave.'
The twelve men waited, crouched in the darkness under the wall of the stadium. There should have been fifteen of them, but three had lost their nerve. Torchlight flared out from the gate. The distinctive sounds of soldiers marching – the scrape of metal-studded boots, the jingle of equipment and ornaments – echoed in the still of the night. The contubernium of ten auxiliaries emerged and were led away by the centurion.
The men rose to their feet and picked up the full wineskins. They looked at each other, waiting for someone to take the lead. The priests were all taken, or fled into hiding. Eventually, one man started towards the gate, and the others followed.
The killing circle smelled of woodsmoke and burnt humanity. In the dim light, it seemed enormous, the sand stretching away. In the centre, the pyres shimmered silver; the air around them shivered.
It took courage for the first man to step out on to the open, exposed sand. The rest hurried after. When they had come within a few paces, they could feel the heat on their faces. They slung the wineskins down from their shoulders, fumbling with nerves as they opened them.
At first, they all crowded round the central pyre, each trying to pour the liquid that would cool the ash that hid the remains of the blessed martyr Appian. Harsh, even unchristian, words were hissed. Three or four reluctantly moved to the other two pyres.
The hot ashes hissed, and steam rose up as the wine splashed down. Suddenly, a man leant forward and, ignoring the singeing hairs on his forearm, clasped the shrivelled left hand of Appian. Another man grabbed the martyr's right hand. Both men snapped at each other. Neither would let go. There was a tussle. Both men pulled. With a horrible wrenching sound, Appian's corpse came apart like an overcooked joint of meat. The men from the other pyres came running. Everyone wanted his own relic, and a vicious fight broke out.
XIX
It was snug and comfortable in the private study of the proconsul. The thick glass of the windows and a glowing brazier kept the autumnal air at bay. It was Ballista's favourite room in the palace. The windows looked south at the jagged crest of the mountain wall. There was a fine mosaic on the floor, orientated to be viewed from the window seat. In the lowest register, a couple of huntsmen set out with their dogs to hunt hares. Above them, a lion killed a deer and a panther leapt at a wild boar. In the middle, two well-equipped, mounted huntsmen were on the point of despatching a tiger. Towards the top, three men were outnumbered by four wild animals. Two of the beasts were wounded or dead, but one of the hunters had only a split second to shoot an arrow and save his companion from the ravening lion which was about to pounce on his back.
Ballista wondered if there was any sort of narrative or message here. Maybe, as one progressed through the mosaic, from near to far, things became ever more threatening. You set out on something that appears to be safe, but it turns out otherwise. It is a dangerous world out there. He turned back to the three letters spread on the desk.
Julia's had been delivered personally that morning by one of her endless cousins, who had been on his way back to Italy. Ballista read through it again. First, there was much news of Isangrim, his humour and strong will, above all the wonderful progress in his riding lessons. Then a little about her pregnancy: she was bigger than she had been the first time, moved like a beached whale. After the domestic, came the public news. To the east, the Sassanids had been active. A raiding force had appeared before Nisibis in north-east Mesopotamia. Their horsemen had ridden west to beneath the walls of Carrhae, before moving down the Chaboras to Circesium. They had enacted religious ceremonies there on the field of battle, before disappearing south. Out in the deep desert, other raiders had taken caravans bound for Palmyra. In Antioch, Julia had talked to Cledonius and his wife, her distant relative. Neither they nor anyone else could yet suggest a reason that Macrianus the Lame had wanted Ballista appointed to the persecution in Ephesus. But the influence the Comes Largitionum had over the emperor was ever growing. As always, Julia ended her letter with a simple sentence that she loved and missed him.
Ballista looked at his reply. First, the pregnancy: expressions of sympathy for her discomfort, prayers for a happy outcome. That was tactful, before moving on to fulsome praise of Isangrim and requests for ever more news. In response to her public information, he merely stated that he was carrying out his mandata in Ephesus and hoped he would be returned soon. He, too, ended with a simple statement that he loved and missed her.
Ballista knew that his wife understood Roman imperial politics better than he did. He had always relied on her insight. But there was a huge difference between accepting that a woman knew about politics and wanting her to become actively involved. When she was heavily pregnant, it was especially unthinkable. Ballista picked up the letter he had written to Cledonius.
After the usual expressions of politeness to the ab Admissionibus, Ballista launched straight into the persecution in Ephesus. Ballista was doing his duty. As his official reports to the emperor must have made clear, he was following his mandata. Although a Christian had betrayed him at Arete, it was a distasteful task, one for which he was unsuited – taking an Epicurean view, was it likely that the gods really cared what these humble, misguided atheists believed? He had heard that the Sassanids were raiding in Mesopotamia. A man of his background would be of far more use there. Would Cledonius petition the emperor for Ballista to be reassigned to a military post on the eastern frontier? And there was another thing that the ab Admissionibus should raise with Valerian. On the point of death, one of the Christians had denounced the malign and ever-increasing influence which Macrianus wielded over the emperor. Letters to Ballista from Antioch confirmed this. Neither Macrianus the Lame nor his sons were to be trusted. Cledonius should warn Valerian – or should Ballista write directly to the emperor himself? Whichever Cledonius thought best; Ballista would do nothing until he had his advice.
Ballista sealed the two letters. He called for Calgacus.
'Never a moment's peace, for fuck's sake.' The Caledonian actually did not look in the least put out. 'What now?'