The Blood Of The Martyrs. Naomi Mitchison
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be able? You mean, you wouldn’t let him?’
‘He just wouldn’t want to. You’ll know if—if you do join us. Claudia Acté gives away all her money.’
‘Is she a Christian?’ said Beric, startled, then, ‘No, it’s all right, Argas, you haven’t made a mistake. I shan’t tell the police.’
‘I didn’t think you would, sir. Only—’
‘As soon as you get frightened, you start sir-ing me again. Idiot!’ said Beric amicably. ‘You’d better call me by my name. I suppose you’ve got a nickname for me, too?’
‘We didn’t have any nasty name for you—truly—only The Briton.’
‘What did you have for the others?’ asked Beric, amused and wanting to hear it all.
But Argas suddenly realised that he must not hear the name for Flavia; that would hurt; that would interrupt. He said, ‘No. I can’t tell you.’
‘You’ve got to!’
For a moment Argas was afraid again, with the Briton glaring at him, really annoyed; then he saw that he needn’t and mustn’t be. His fear was only something left over. ‘How are you going to make me tell you—now?’ he asked. ‘I’m not going to do a thing more for you except of my own free will!’
Beric suddenly began to laugh, threw himself back on to the cushions in fits of laughter. ‘Then I shall have to fill my own bath!’
Argas was rather shocked; he said, ‘I shall go on doing my proper work. Because I choose. Can I go on telling you about our prayer, or are you going on laughing?’
‘It makes me feel like laughing,’ Beric said, ‘the whole thing. I like laughing. I laugh at things I like. I think I see what you’re after about this Kingdom, you and Lalage. And you think it’ll come?’
‘We know it’s coming. That’s the Will of God that we ask to be done. It’s—it’s reason, the Kingdom. It’s the only thing that makes sense of people being in the same world with one another. It isn’t sense, is it, some having all the money and powers and others slaves all their lives and never getting a chance of being real people?’
‘It’s always been like that,’ said Beric slowly. ‘I don’t know about being sense. I never thought about sense in the way people are arranged.’
‘That’s because you were on top. You didn’t have to. I’ve had to, and I know it’s nonsense as it is. It’s wasting people all the time. Men and women.’
‘You want a world then, where all are poor?’
‘Yes. Where money and power aren’t being used any longer to make nonsense of the way we live with one another. With making friends. A world where you and I can be friends.’
‘Can’t we be friends as it is?’
‘We’ll see. I—I wanted a lot to be friends with you ever since—well, ever since you bought me. I’ve read plenty of books and that. I’m not a fool. Only you never gave me a chance till now. You made nonsense of me wanting it.’
‘I’m sorry, Argas,’ said Beric, not laughing any more.
‘Well then, God’s will must be reason: and that’s what the Kingdom is. That’s why we ask for the Will to be done, even when we don’t understand how it’s working. And when we ask for daily bread, that means security. Just knowing from day to day where we shall be. One can’t make the Kingdom without that much.’
‘I don’t think I want security,’ said Beric. ‘That’s a Roman thing. I want adventures.’
‘You’ve never not been secure,’ said Argas, ‘never been at anyone’s mercy for everything. Punished for what you hadn’t done. Yes—it wasn’t me that broke the wine jar last week! Oh, it doesn’t matter, truly, it doesn’t matter now! But they stole half my savings and nobody cared, and I had a book—and it was torn up, and… If you hadn’t bought me at the beginning of last year, my master would have taken me off to Gaul, away from the Church here and everything I cared about. That sort of thing happened twice before. But you were part of the Will. Don’t laugh, no, don’t laugh at me! It’s true. And then, after that, we remind ourselves to be always forgiving one another. And how we’re always doing things ourselves that need forgiveness. That’s important. And sometimes it’s difficult.’
Beric thought about it, lying back on the couch, one knee up, the other crooked over it, swinging. ‘Not one’s enemies? You don’t mean you try to forgive them?’
‘Yes,’ said Argas. And then, ‘You could forgive Aelius Candidus if you tried.’
Beric sat up sharply. ‘That’s none of your business!’ he said.
But Argas wasn’t going to let himself be frightened now. ‘If I’m your friend, it is my business,’ he said. ‘We all saw and it’s no good pretending we didn’t. And we were all on your side. Though I knew you’d kick me if I said so.’
‘Hell,’ said Beric. ‘I would have. I know I would. And then you’d have had the job of forgiving me.’
‘Of course.’
‘Hell,’ said Beric again.
‘You see, it’s all in and out like that. People knocking up against one another. But it’s one thing forgiving friends and another forgiving enemies. That’s two different ways of doing it. Your friends take it, and as like as not they’ll need to forgive you too; it’s mostly six of one and half a dozen of the other. But with your enemies, perhaps they don’t accept it. But you’ve got to do it all the same.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s just part of how we all want to be. We call it the Way of Life. And if you forgive a person you stop being in his power; he can’t really hurt you any longer. And maybe you get to see why he’s doing it and then you can most likely stop him.’
‘But look here, Argas, if you forgive people you’ve got to forgive the Emperor and Rome and—and all the masters—and then you won’t want to destroy them any longer.’
‘I can forgive my own master,’ said Argas, frowning, thinking it out, ‘for what he does to me as a man, but forgiveness is between people, so I can’t forgive all the masters because I don’t know them. Together, they’re a thing, and I hate them and I want to destroy them. And we shall. And the rule of Rome is a thing, so I don’t forgive it. I don’t forgive what they did to the people in Epidauros and the people in Athens. And if you become a Christian, you will not be able to forgive the Roman rule that you have been part of yourself.’
‘I think I see,’ said Beric. ‘Did your Jesus forgive his enemies?’
‘He forgave the men who were killing him. But before that he hated the rich and the priests and the rule they had over His people; He never forgave their power.’
‘And he will be King of your Kingdom?’
‘He is in all of us,’ said Argas, ‘when we are trying for the Kingdom. And the next thing in the prayer is asking not to be led into temptation, but to be delivered from evil. Because we all want to be good.’
‘Do we?’ said Beric, and added, ‘I wonder if Tigellinus does.’
‘Perhaps people with a lot of power don’t. But ordinary people do if things aren’t being too much for them. Well, that’s what the prayer’s about.’ Argas suddenly looked tired—tired and defeated. ‘But it doesn’t mean a thing to you!’
‘Yes, yes, you stupid, it does!’ said Beric, ‘and I’m glad it’s sense and not magic. But I want to sleep on it. And it’s late. Everyone else is asleep but us.’ He stood up.
‘I’ll bring