The knife again. ‘Then why were you at the granary this morning?’
It went on and on. The same questions, over and over. But there was nothing I could add. Through misting eyes I could still see that cold smile on Glaucus’ face as patiently, with horrible precision, he traced his patterns of torment on my flesh.
Chapter Nineteen
Time passed.
I was moaning now. I could hear myself. I had fought it down for as long as I could, knowing that it would just give Glaucus pleasure, but by this time I could bear the pain no longer. Already my head and sight were swimming. Passing out would have been a kind of mercy, but Glaucus seemed to know how to keep a man just this side of unconsciousness.
Before I quite blacked out he let me come round, but every time I drifted back to my senses the torture began again: another little jab of agony on flesh already screaming with cuts and fire. I was beyond speech now — I tried to form words but only gurgling sounds escaped my lips.
Then suddenly it stopped. For a moment I was too foolish and battered even to take that in, but it was true. My damaged skin still throbbed like fire, but there were no new torments. I tried to force open my unwilling eyes, but everything seemed uniformly grey. I could hear Glaucus cursing and stamping.
‘Great Mithras curse him! He is passing out on me — that is no use. And he has made me burn myself. Give me another taper, now — at once!’ So that was it. His wax-light had burned down and he had thrown it on the floor to extinguish it when it had scorched his fingers. From a dim red haze of pain I hoped that it had hurt.
When I swam to consciousness again, I heard Glaucus’ voice. ‘Well, it is a waste of time going on — he’ll tell us nothing in this state. I’ll have to wait till he recovers a little, and then we’ll see what whips and hooks can do. I will be back, so don’t you start on him. I don’t want him dying before he begins to talk. Mars knows what he has already told the governor. I never trust these governmental spies.’
Whips and hooks! Agony already flowed through me like a hot red tide, but fear forced me to listen.
‘Will you be gone long, Mightiness?’
‘Not long. I’m going to find Fortunatus and bring him in. I want to talk to him, too. Bedding Monnius’ wife, of all people! Monnius — one of our biggest sponsors! I’ll have the fellow taken under guard and locked up until the race. Pluto and all the Furies take the man! He’s endangered the whole system with his womanising. If I could find another driver of his quality I’d strangle him with my own hands and use someone else.’
‘You want him got rid of, Mightiness? It would be a pleasure.’
I heard Glaucus give a dry bark of laughter. ‘Not now. There’s still Camulodunum to come. That should be a very profitable day. Who is going to back an unknown driver, and against Citus too? Too bad the poor creature will be lame. Never fear. Fortunatus will do as I tell him. He wants his share of the money — and there should be plenty. Thousands for us all. In the meantime, you look after this interfering wretch. Don’t touch him unless he tries to escape. However, if I haven’t come by sundown, then he’s yours. Do what you like with him. You can dump all three bodies in the river after dark — put them in a sack and make sure you weight them well. I’ll see that extra rations are waiting for you at the barracks.’
He was gone. Whether it was pain or fear or hunger I don’t know, but I was at the end of myself. A sort of shivering terror seized me, and I lay there semi-conscious, though whether for minutes or hours I could not tell. At last I was aware of one of the guards stirring me with his boot.
‘Here, Rupius! Leave him alone. You heard what Glaucus said. He’s coming back- What’s that?’
A sudden blinding flash of light — was that the door? — and then there was a roaring in my ears. My heart seemed to contract with fright, and the world misted over. I dimly knew I was hallucinating — I had known the same thing in a fever. Strange shadows danced before my eyes and there were indistinct and distant noises, dull thumps and shouts. One long, thin scream, then silence. Utter blackness fell.
This must be death, I thought, and closed my eyes.
When the soul leaves the body, so the Romans say, it travels to the nether world, transported by the ferryman across the Styx. I had never been sure that I believed the tale — we Celts have our own explanation of demise — but I was dully comforted to find that it was true. I found myself rising up, without any conscious effort on my part, as if I was being borne upwards and outwards into a place of sweet air and glorious blinding light.
I expected the agony in my chest to cease, but that did not happen. Instead I appeared to be floating in a kind of welcoming green haze which swallowed me from time to time and eased the pain. I abandoned myself to it and allowed myself to be carried along. Literally carried, it occurred to me after a while. Not in a litter. Pairs of strong arms were bearing me along. Lots of arms, supporting my back, my head, my legs — all of them gentle and considerate, and carrying me as though I were a feather.
Blackness descended again, heavy and palpable, like a blanket shrouding my face and limbs. I concentrated on opening my eyes but everything was dark. Perhaps it was always so, in the other world. I seemed to feel the weight of darkness on my skin. I tried to raise a feeble hand to touch it, but it was useless. It seemed my elbows were still bound, and I could scarcely move my limbs in any case.
But the effort was enough. The blackness lifted of its own accord, the floating feeling stopped and I was aware of many forms around me and a strong, dark, bearded shape at my side, although the whole scene dissolved at once when I tried to focus on any part of it.
‘Libertus? Citizen? Can you hear me?’ Someone was calling me by name.
I moved my lips, but no sound came out. ‘Who. .?’ I managed finally.
A deep and reassuring voice. ‘It is the boatman.’
I nodded inwardly. The Styx. That seemed fitting.
‘Lie still and do not worry, citizen. We’ll soon have you aboard. My crew have got you now. Praise be to Jupiter you are still alive. A little longer and we might have been too late.’
Alive? I had begun to think that I was dead. I tried to make sense of it in my fuddled brain. It took me a little time to work it out, but of course! This was the boatman who had brought me here. Somehow I had been rescued. I struggled to raise myself a little, but a firm hand pushed me gently back.
‘Only a short distance now, citizen, and we’ll have you on the barge. The governor has a medicus at the palace, and once we get you there he’ll have those wounds bathed and salved in no time. For now, the most important thing is rest.’
‘What happened?’ I tried to ask. It was no use. My voice was no more than a quaver. No one heard.
The crew — I could see now that it was the crew — had made a sort of cradle of their arms and were carrying me between them. At a signal from the bargemaster they set off again at a smooth trot. Down past the warehouse, through the gate and out on to the waiting vessel. Only there did they set me gently down, with one cloak folded up beneath my head, and another — which had served as the blanket covering my face — tucked over me to keep me warm.
I needed it. I found that I was shivering, all at once, and the pot of cold water which someone was holding to my lips was the sweetest drink I ever tasted.
‘He’s drinking!’ It was Junio’s voice. ‘I thought those devils had killed him.’ He lifted the container to my lips again.
I drank, and spluttered. Water trickled into me like life itself. ‘And I thought they’d. . killed you.’ The words came with a struggle but I was making myself heard.
‘Master! You are awake!’ He was bathing my face now, holding a wet cloth to my temples. I felt the mist recede and the pain in my chest, which had been ebbing as the mist increased, stabbed me again.