The Emperor Series Books 1-4. Conn Iggulden
Читать онлайн книгу.
nodded silently. It showed that anything could be achieved; even, perhaps, freedom.
Small boys advertised their master's wares from hundreds of tiny shops along the edges; barbers, carpenters, butchers, stonemasons, gold and silver jewellers, potters, mosaic makers, rug weavers, the list was endless, the colours and noises a blur.
‘That is the temple of Jupiter, on the Capitoline hill. We will come back and make a sacrifice when we have seen your uncle Marius,’ Tubruk said, relaxed and smiling in the morning sun. He was leading the group and raised his arm to halt them.
‘Wait. That man's path will cross ours. He is a senior magistrate and must not be hindered.’
The others drew up and halted.
‘How do you know who he is?’ Marcus asked.
‘Do you see the man beside him? He is a lictor, a special attendant. Do you see that bundle on his shoulder? Those are wooden rods for scourging and a small axe for beheading. If the magistrate was bumped by one of our horses, say, he could order a death on the spot. He needs neither witnesses nor laws to apply. Best to avoid them completely, if we can.’
In silence, they all watched the man and his attendant as they crossed the plaza, seemingly unaware of the attention.
‘A dangerous place for the ignorant,’ Cabera whispered.
‘Everywhere is, in my experience,’ Renius grunted from the back.
Past the forum, they entered lesser streets that abandoned the straight lines of the main ones. Here, there were fewer names on the intersections. The houses were often four or even five storeys high and Cabera, in particular, gaped at these.
‘The view they must have! Are they very expensive, these top houses?’
‘Apartments, they are called, and no, they are the cheapest. They have no running water at that height and are in great danger from fire. If one starts on the bottom floor, those at the top rarely get out. You see how the windows are so small? That is to keep out the sun and rain, but it also means you can't jump from them.’
They wound their way through the heavy stepping stones that crossed the sunken roads at intervals. Without these, the fastidious pedestrians would have had to step down into the slippery muck left by horses and donkeys. The wheels of carts had to be set a regulation width apart so that they could cross in the gaps and Cabera nodded to himself as he watched the process.
‘This is a well-planned city,’ he said. ‘I have never seen another like it.’
Tubruk laughed. ‘There is no other like it. They say Carthage was of similar beauty, but we destroyed that more than fifty years ago, sowing the land with salt so that it could never again rise in opposition to us.’
‘You speak almost as if a city is a living thing,’ Cabera replied.
‘Is it not? You can feel the life here. I could feel her welcoming me as I came through the gate. This is my home, as no other house can be.’
Gaius too could feel the life around him. Although he had never lived within the walls, it was his home as it was Tubruk's – maybe more so as he was nobilitas, born free and of the greatest people in the world. ‘My people built this,’ he thought. ‘My ancestors put their hands on these stones and walked these streets. My father may have stood at that corner and my mother could have grown up in one of the gardens I can glimpse off the main street.’
His grip on the reins relaxed and Cabera looked at him and smiled, sensing the change of mood.
‘We are nearly there,’ Tubruk said. ‘At least Marius’ house is well away from the smell of dung in the streets. I don't miss that, I can assure you.'
They turned off the busy road and walked the horses up a steep hill and a quieter, cleaner street.
‘These are the houses of the rich and powerful. They have estates in the country but mansions here, where they entertain and plot for more power and even more wealth,’ Tubruk continued, his voice blank enough of emotion to make Gaius glance at him. The houses were sealed from the public gaze by iron gates, taller than a man. Each was numbered and entered by a small door for those on foot. Tubruk explained that this was only the least part; the buildings went back and back, from private baths to stables to great courtyards, all hidden from the vulgar plebeians.
‘They set great store by privacy in Rome,’ Tubruk said. ‘Perhaps it is part of living in a city. Certainly, if you were just to drop in to a country estate you would be unlikely to cause offence, but here you must make appointments and announce yourself and wait and wait until they are ready to receive you. This is the one. I will tell the gatekeeper we have arrived.’
‘I'll leave you here then,’ Renius said. ‘I must go to my own house and see if it has been damaged in the rioting.’
‘Do not forget the curfew. Be inside as the sun sets, my friend. They are still killing everyone left on the streets after dark.’
Renius nodded. ‘I'll watch out.’
He turned his horse away and Gaius reached out to put a hand on his good right arm.
‘You're not leaving? I thought …’
‘I must check my house. I need to think alone for a while. I don't feel ready to settle down with the other old men, not any more. I will be back tomorrow dawn to see you and … well, tomorrow dawn it is.’ He smiled and rode away.
As he trotted down the hill, Gaius noted again the darkness of his hair and the energy that filled the man's frame. He turned and looked at Cabera, who shrugged.
‘Gatekeeper!’ Tubruk shouted. ‘Attend to us.’
After the heat of the Roman streets, the cool stone corridors that led into the house grounds were a welcome relief. The horses and bags had been whisked away and the five visitors were taken into the first building, beckoned on by an elderly slave.
They stopped at a door of gold wood and the slave opened it, gesturing inside.
‘You will find all you need, Master Gaius. Consul Marius has given you leave to wash and change after your journey. You are not expected to appear before him until sunset, three hours from now, when you will dine. Shall I show your companions the way to the servants' rooms?’
‘No. They will stay with me.’
‘As you wish, master. Shall I take the girl to the slave quarters?’
Gaius nodded slowly, thinking.
‘Treat her with kindness. She is a friend of my house.’
‘Of course, sir,’ replied the man, motioning to Alexandria.
She flashed a glance at Gaius and the expression was unreadable in her dark eyes.
Without another word, the quiet little man left, his sandals making no noise on the stone floor. The others looked at one another, each taking some form of comfort from the company of friends.
‘I think she likes me, that one,’ Marcus mused to himself.
Gaius looked at him in surprise and Marcus shrugged. ‘Lovely legs, as well.’ He went in to their quarters, chuckling, leaving Gaius stupefied behind him.
Cabera whistled softly as he entered the room. The ceiling was forty feet from the mosaic floor, a series of brass rafters that crossed and recrossed the space. The walls were painted in the dark reds and oranges that they had seen so often since entering the city, but the floor was the thing that caught the attention, even before they looked up at the vault of a roof. It was a series of circles, gripping a marble fountain in the middle of the huge room. Each circle contained running figures, racing to catch the one in front and frozen in the attempt. The outer circles were figures from the markets, carrying their wares, then, as the eye followed the circles inwards, different aspects of society could be seen. There were the slaves, the magistrates, the members of the Senate, legionaries, doctors. One circle contained only kings, naked except for their crowns.