The Blood of the Martyrs (43 page)

‘No,' said Beric, ‘I'd rather be now. With all of you. But we
shall
need courage. We're sure of ourselves, brothers and sisters, aren't we?'

‘I think so,' Euphemia said. ‘You see dear, if those gladiators could die well—I used to look on, you know, in old days, when my patron took me—then it stands to reason we can. And just think of all the people we'll be bearing witness to! Hundreds and thousands, I dare say. It isn't like being beaten up all alone.'

‘Most of them are going to laugh and yell at us Euphemia, and throw things, too,' Beric said, remembering what Candidus had been saying.

‘There'll be some that won't,' Euphemia said.

‘What's more,' Lalage said, ‘there'll be some of the ones that do who'll go home, and later on in the night, it might be, they'll wake up and remember us. And they'll wish they hadn't laughed and made our deaths harder; they'll feel bad about that; they'll feel, well, maybe they ought to do something about it. You see, we'll have looked at them with love Beric, because they're our brothers and sisters, though they're separate from us now because they haven't understood yet. They're going to understand, though: through Jesus and us. But we won't know which they are, not yet; they won't look different; they won't know themselves that they've been had by the Spirit, not till they feel the new thing moving in them that they've got to bring to birth.'

‘There'll be plenty that we can't move,' Argas said. ‘The ones who want all this to happen.'

‘Yes, there's some that no one could change, not even Jesus; like He couldn't change all those rich men who were running things in Jerusalem in His time. They'd refuse the Kingdom even if they were shown it; they're turned the other way—on purpose. They don't see the point of love and freedom and justice. But there's more of the others, the ones who may see the Kingdom yet. And we'll be loving them; we'll look at them so they'll remember it always, won't we Euphemia?—and it'll give a bit of a twist to their minds, so that the world won't ever be quite the same for them. They'll begin to look new ways and feel about for something they can't exactly lay a name to. And then, under God, they'll begin to get to know the Kingdom.'

Argas said, ‘If Crispus is there, I'll try to look at him— that way.'

‘Yes,' said Beric. ‘He'll be there. I hadn't thought of that.' He rubbed his hand across his face; his eyes were suddenly stabbing him again.

Manasses was watching him. ‘Why do you mind, Beric?'

‘We were there together so often. I was watching the races with him … yesterday, I suppose it was! We were enjoying them, in spite of everything. He kept on turning round, talking to me. And now he'll be watching and I'll be down on the sand and I won't even be able to tell him to look
away. He'll be up there alone, with the ghost of me sitting beside him, in the best seats. And between me and my ghost there'll be just a few yards of sand and a wooden barrier that the lions can't jump over. But that'll be enough.'

‘Are you afraid of the lions, Beric?' Manasses asked.

‘One likes to die at one's own moment, not at a beast's.'

Manasses shook his head. ‘We've never had time of our own, we slaves, have we Argas? It's been all a master's time. And might be a beast's that way, as like as not. You haven't been used to being wasted by someone else, nor to being hurt, the way poor folk and slaves are; it's something with us, pain is, day to day, so we need to get able to bear it. You haven't ever been used to be handed about at someone else's will and pleasure. It's hard for you, son.'

‘Not really,' Beric said. ‘I'm glad I'm in this. It's the only thing that matters that's happening in the world. I'm glad I found it in time. I'm glad you took me.'

Euphemia looked up and asked suddenly, ‘Your father really was a king, wasn't he dear?'

‘He was a king all right, Euphemia,' Beric said, ‘and made people fight for him and get themselves killed.' And then he added, ‘And my brother was coming to Rome for the Games! I'd forgotten. He may be there, too.'

‘You will be bearing witness to many, brother,' Lalage said. She was sitting on the bench again, her back to the wall. If only one could go to sleep in the sun and not wake up for a long time, stop being a hurt piece of flesh, gather one's strength. ‘Jesus,' she whispered, ‘Jesus.' She fixed her mind on to that wood-worker who had taught the poor how to live and die, who had also taught such of the rich as would take His teachings. Beric. The pain stood away from her a little as she thought of how he had come to them at last and in time.

But he was saying, ‘I remember now Clinog telling me that most of our people, the British fighting men who'd been taken prisoner during that war of my father's, were made to fight one another in the Arena. I hadn't thought of it from that day to this. I was only a kid; I didn't know what it meant. Clinog must have known because he was so angry. I suppose our people were too tough to be slaves. It was a way of getting rid of them.'

‘I bet they fought well—your people, Beric,' Argas said.

‘But they were got rid of,' Beric said, ‘so that even I, who was their king's son, had forgotten them. But we shan't be. No one's going to be able to get rid of the Kingdom.'

Now it became apparent that something was happening in the yard. Here and there came a thud and a scream, and raised voices. A rather fat woman, running stumblingly in terror, her hands clutched over her breasts, cannoned into Euphemia. ‘They've come!' she cried, ‘to take us to the beasts! Oh, I can't!' And she bolted through into the darkness of the cells, to escape for another three or four days, perhaps. Manasses saw a sergeant pointing to their group, and the guards coming, with their hide whips ready. He stood up with his Church round him. ‘It's time,' he said, ‘come, children. We are set to die for all people now.' Beric helped Argas to his feet; they were in every way equals at this time; and all the way to the Arena, in the streets, with the cabbage stalks and bits of tile being thrown at them, Beric had his arm round Argas, as far as the chains would allow, helping him to walk.

As they were being marched through the prison, Paul was standing there, blessing them all, his face tense. When he saw the worst need, he would walk by someone or some group, urging them to courage and faith and above all remembrance of their love for one another, pulling it up into their minds past the terror and pain; they had known all along in the love-feasts and the crossing of the threshold that happened there, how this put them for ever beyond death! And the hungry, frightened eyes were on him the whole time, and the hands clutching and slipping, and the souls slipping and rocking too, that had to be brought to the pitch of crucifixion. And he must, oh, by giving all the strength that was in him, he must succeed in getting across to these men and women, his brothers and sisters, what would keep their hearts and heads high for those last hours that faced them. And after that it was in God's hands. But when any passed him who looked as Manasses and Lalage and their Church looked, then he got strength himself to help the weak. Then he knew that the Kingdom was present and actual.

Gallio walked by Beric for a minute, the guard respectfully not hurrying him. ‘Goodbye, Beric,' he said. ‘I'll tell Crispus.'

‘Thank him from me,' Beric said. ‘He'll know for what.'

‘Am I to tell him,' Gallio asked, ‘boy, am I to tell him you chose to die this way?'

‘Of my own free will,' Beric said, ‘because it is making the Kingdom. I might have had things otherwise. This was the best way. I and my friends—we die because we choose!'

At the gate Gallio dropped back, heard the yell of hate and derision in the road, and saw some of the prisoners check and duck their heads, saw the guards lifting their whips, then the crack and cry as the lash came down. He went back to his cell. The young Christian slave was there; he hadn't been taken yet. They eyed one another. At last the slave said, ‘What did you think of it, sir?'

‘Always a fine sight when men and women die well—for anything,' Gallio said. He took down a book roll at random and opened it; the letters blurred in front of him and he blinked and wiped his eyes; it would not be at all amusing to tell Crispus. ‘Almost makes one think there might be something in it after all,' he grunted at the slave, not looking at him, and began to read. After a time he noticed that he didn't even know what the book was.

By the afternoon the Circus Maximus was practically full. Most of the cheap seats had come in the morning, half of them bringing their lunch along with them, so as to miss nothing and above all not risk losing their places. You didn't see details so well, naturally, not if you were one of the ordinary common people in the upper blocks, but on the other hand you did see clear over the division down the centre, the long, low broad wall you knew so well, with the bronze dolphins spouting on it and the bronze basins always lipping over, and the great eggs they hoisted, one more up to seven for each lap of a chariot race till the screaming final, and the gilt bronze statues, only nobody cared who they were meant to be now, and the sixty-foot red stone obelisk jabbing up between the feathery spoutings of the dolphins, and the shrine of Castor and Pollux with the bunches of spiked boxing gloves hanging up in it, and the other shrine of Venus who was Mother of Rome and you'd know that, to look at the necking and nudging and kneeing that was for ever going on all round and round the blocks of seats.

You'd have woke up that morning thinking it's the Games again, and you might have been dreaming about them, hot, tangled kinds of dreams, mostly, and the dream would go on getting at you while you combed your hair and cut your lump of bread that was to have a bit of dried fish or ham for a relish, unless it was a free lunch day with drinks on the Emperor, and the dream would go on as you walked there through the early morning with a snap of September chill in it already, but it would warm up, oh yes, and you'd hurry rather quietly tasting the dream still, and you'd get near and begin to hear the noises, the crashing of, the sudden shrill, the quickening wanting noises of.
And you'd elbow in, stamping on toes and swearing, to read the notices, red and black lettering of a whole new day of the Games for you citizens, you because Rome because you. Out of the pairs of the first act of gladiators, fifty per cent kills guaranteed, no fumbling or cheating: river scene with Leda and troupe of trained swans: female prisoners thrown in snake pit: blacks hunt ostriches, tigers hunt blacks: attack on castle, flame throwers in galloping chariots: whole circus filled with dancers, nude dancers, armoured dancers, feathered dancers, eighty nude dancers raffled among audience; display of jumping lucky piebald horses with flags: simultaneous net and trident or sword and club fights: genuine Alexandrian brothels, personnel specially imported. Egyptian background by experts, living Sphynx and crocodiles: the great clean-up, Christians eaten by bears, lions, hyaenas and wolves, the Emperor lends animals from his private menagerie: Greek torch race: acrobats and elephants: illuminated tight-rope walk across the Circus: grand firework finale.

Well then, the next thing was getting to your seat, pushing your way through and a proper job that was, and you'd need to look out for your money too! And sometimes you'd all get barged into by one of the toffs with his heavyweights all round him and his scented hanky up to his little nose-oh, in case he caught a whiff of Genuine Old Rome, that being you. And sometimes there'd be a tart sidling along after you, with a clever soft touch and a meet me tonight when you've won your big bet, big boy, for that's what it's like all round the Circus, drink shops and fortune-tellers and quack doctors and massage establishments, and women and boys in all of them, because when you come out after a day of it, or in the middle for that matter, well, you know what you want. But it takes you maybe an hour to get in, for there's thousands and thousands of you, two hundred thousand, they say the place holds, and that's more than any other place in the whole world or that's likely to be in the world again, either! But all the time you're edging along there's shouting and singing, and of course, there's plenty to laugh at, on the outsides of the big crowd, acrobats and dancers and performing dogs and one-legged hoppers and fat women, or someone gets up a
fight between a blind beggar and another with no hands, and you chuck the pennies into the ring. And you hear the beasts that have been kept hungry for today, roaring and howling and angry, all to give you a good show, and you know what they'll get for their dinners! And in the end you come to your entrance and up the stairs and scramble for the seats, with your wife screeching and pushing after you, if you've brought her, that is, and then you can settle down nicely for a day of it. And in no time you hear the big trumpets and the drums and bells, and in comes the procession from under the arches at the east end of the Circus, like you've been waiting for, with horses and elephants and gladiators all set to fight to the death, and flower girls in flimsies, and blacks carrying traysful of monkeys, and a lot of little kiddies with no more on than cupids firing off gilt arrows, and a lashing great tiger in a gold cage or what looks like gold, and dogs with frills on their necks, and more gladiators and girls on stilts and a painted dragon with ten men inside him spouting fire, and Indian snake charmers and young boys leading gazelles with silver collars, and the six-foot boxers showing off their great chests and arms. And now they all line up and there's the Emperor and Empress in their box, bless them, and everyone stands and yells, and today's Games are going to begin!

Of course, the Gods are called on first, as is only right. The Gods and the Emperor and us. And the procession goes snaking out again, all but the gladiators. And then, then. The smell you'd been dreaming of, that's never gone quite out of your head, and the sudden bright splosh on the sand, and all a man's got inside him emptied out all at once. And you gasp and tighten and feel it creeping and tingling in your stomach and loins. And already the day's getting hotter and between turns the awnings are shifted about to let in the air and keep out the sun for you.

In the great top blocks are thousands who don't get the detail at all, though they do get the whole of a spectacle, better perhaps than the respectable in the middle tiers and the aristocracy, a bit less crowded, unless they choose to crowd themselves with cushions and slaves and mistresses. Most of them would have left home with enough slaves to
push a way through the mob for them, but these would be dismissed to wait outside till the end of the show. Balbus, for instance, only had one of his young secretaries, and Lucan was by himself except for another poet. He did not approve of bringing his wife to such places. Balbus was expecting his friend Crispus with some anxiety; if, as he could not help suspecting, Crispus himself was in some way involved with these Christians, then it was important that Crispus should be seen at the Games. Much of it of course, was tedious, yet it was a fine bracing sight to observe the contempt of death amongst the fighting pairs: even though they were only common gladiators, they could teach you something, yes by Jupiter, they could! He had seen Crispus early that morning. Crispus had been very much upset about that poor lad, too much upset for a good Stoic; it was as though Beric had actually been his son. Well, well, it wouldn't be the first judicial murder, the first blood crying for blood again. Calpurnius Piso was no doubt at the Games too. The Briton would probably be beheaded … unless he was mixed up with these Christians. Damned awkward. And if on top of that Crispus didn't turn up. Above all necessary to avoid a scandal, for Candidus's sake. Why the devil he couldn't manage that girl better! Balbus had got those two slaves that Crispus had sent over safe out of sight, bolted into one of the cellars with the wine casks pushed back in front of the door. A pretty pair—wonder what they'd do in there in the dark!

Before the next act, while the Circus hands, dressed as Greek sailors and reapers, prepared the river scene, loosing in the water from the tanks, Balbus went round to see some of his friends, and especially Flavius Scaevinus. To do that, he must pass behind the Imperial Box, in the space kept sufficiently clear for the police agents to notice anyone or anything. Erasixenos was talking to one of them; he was absurdly over-dressed, with a collection of rings—oh well, that was the kind of queer thing you found at the Roman Games nowadays! He hadn't seen him since that supper party when the betrothal was announced … and then they had consulted the astrologers … why had the stars foretold nothing but good omens? He nodded briefly to Erasixenos
and went on. He hoped Crispus would have shown up by the time he got back to his seat. Not that either of them would want to see the Leda performance: couldn't be bothered with that kind of nonsense these days.

From the upper seats, on the other hand, the Leda scene was marvellous; some of the swans were real birds and some were dancers, but they all made the same rush and oh, what a long, sharp quivery scream Leda did give, you heard it from one end to the other, just like a girl surprised naked would have, only you never had the luck yourself, nor likely to, not except at the Games. Tertius Satellius squeezed his wife ever so hard while that was going on; she was all right now, didn't do to take notice of her moods. There'd be the snakes next, well, you didn't see that so well, but they'd do it while the river scene was being cleared and the hunt scene put on.

Clinog was sitting beside the friend with whom he had come, Sextus Papinius Calvinus; owing to the fact that he had been kept at the Municipal Offices to finish putting through an important contract, Clinog had missed the first day of the Games, and he had not even had time to call on Flavius Crispus. He wondered whether perhaps his brother were somewhere in this audience; it would be fine to see young Beric again. He noticed that today's programme would include some executions of Christians; well, that would be a warning to his brother—though he could not think that there was anything in the story that Beric might have had something to do with the sect. Not if they were the criminals you heard they were, and indeed there was no doubting it on the evidence. In the meantime Clinog was exceedingly impressed by the whole thing. If you could give all this to two hundred thousand people, well, that meant surely, that you could do what you liked with most of those thousands; they'd go on wanting more and more, and they wouldn't, so to speak, notice what was happening to the rest of their lives. You could take anything away from them except the Games. The Romans were the first people in the world who had thought of that way of ruling. He would remember.

Candidus and Flavia had excellent seats quite close to the Imperial Box, and Flavia was as usual, the centre of an
animated conversation. Just at the moment she didn't care ever to stop talking or laughing or giving witty answers to compliments. If one stopped— But everyone said she was in splendid form; one of her best friends had whispered that the Emperor had been asking who she was! Candidus also, was being particularly amiable and as complimentary as though she'd been someone else's wife. But that made her feel the tiniest bit uneasy; it wasn't the way for him to behave unless—well, unless he had some kind of a nasty surprise for her. But anyway, even if he had, it wouldn't be till after the Games! She was certainly going to enjoy herself till then. She adored these hunting scenes; there was so much movement and life, you couldn't be bored for a moment, there wasn't time for any of these thoughts you would rather not have sneaking into your mind. About last night. No!

One of the ostrich-hunters with his scarlet loincloth and anklets and little knife, had made his kill just below her seat; you could hear him panting after the run, a glorious, glossy black, muscles standing out like a racing-horse, but clearer. ‘Positively,' said Flavia, ‘a man in good condition is the finest animal of all!' And she threw him down a rose. Several of her friends followed with pink and white flowers pattering on to the ostrich-killer's ultramarine-shadowed shoulders; he looked up, gesturing and grinning. The ladies all waved back, giggling. Caelia Pulchra in the front row actually tossed him over a bracelet, which set the man prancing with delight and shouting his gibberish at them. Did he understand that the tigers were going to be let in now? Apparently not, because when he turned and saw the great orange cat close on him, he screamed and ran, the flowers hopping off him. But the tiger in two utterly breathtaking bounds had got him down, you could see him wriggle and flap for a minute; and that was the end of the black ostrich-hunter.

Caelia Pulchra threw herself back simply bathed in sweat; her maid had to fan her for ten minutes. There was nothing like the Games!

While the tigers were finishing their meals, rasping and purring and twitching their strong tails, the scenery of the
castle was being rolled into position. The tigers were perfectly harmless so long as you didn't disturb them, and when they had finished they could easily be driven or lured back into their cages. Even if one of them turned nasty there was a hundred per cent efficient barrier with a smooth ivory rail at the top, beautifully pivoted so that it merely rolled over if a leaping animal so much as got a paw on to it—or a man trying to escape for that matter. There used to be a ditch, but one of Nero's new architects had devised this method, at the same time extending the seating capacity of the Circus. It might have been designed by a Greek, but it was the kind of invention which Romans appreciated!

Tigellinus was reporting to the Master of the World. His police agents had been round during the last hour; it was all most satisfactory; the divine Emperor was thought to have excelled himself. Last night's show in the Imperial Gardens had undoubtedly caught the imagination of the populace. The important thing now was to see that everything was carried out to its logical conclusion. There must be no protection of Christians. Not even in high places … supposing that by any chance evidence were found. It was probable that the Divine Emperor knew in what direction the Praefect of the Praetorians was hinting, but he had leant forward to give the signal and pretended not to hear. Through a blast of trumpets the attackers came galloping on, wheeling all round the castle. There was too much noise, from Circus and audience both, for Tigellinus to get the attention he needed. He had not really been certain how his Imperial Master had taken the news of the latest attempt on his life—the Christian murder plot. Nero had seemed amused, and had merely asked for details about the lady.