The History Keepers Circus Maximus (24 page)

15 D
IABOLICAL
D
INNER

THE VILLA THAT
Agata Zeldt called home clung to the southwestern side of the Palatine, overlooking the Circus Maximus on one side and the great field of Mars on the other. Jake and his companions approached it, first up a steep slope from the southern end of the Forum, then along a wide, tranquil boulevard that snaked between the grand residences of this most ancient and revered district. The air was much fresher up here, and sweetened by the fragrance of the pines. It was quieter too, away from the bustle of the city below; they heard only the sounds of running water mixed with the muffled conversations of well-to-do people behind the walls of their luxury compounds.

Occasionally, the tranquillity was broken by a carriage rolling up the hill or by the grunts of slaves
bearing litters – all evidently transporting illustrious guests to Agata’s party – before disappearing down a driveway near the crest.

As they approached the gated entrance, which was lit by a succession of tapers and guarded by all sorts of soldiers and attendants, Nathan stopped in the shadows behind a tree.

‘We should go in two groups,’ he whispered. ‘Draw less attention to ourselves. Lucius and I will enter first. You two follow in fifteen minutes. Good luck.’

Nathan took a deep breath, put on his mask, puffed up his chest, clicked the bones in his hands and set off. Lucius went through the same routine, in a more exaggerated fashion, then followed. Jake and Charlie watched them stride up the narrow drive, give their fake names to an attendant and disappear through the gates.

To kill some time, Jake and Charlie wandered up to the summit and looked down at the Circus Maximus. The sight of it filled Jake with wonder. From above, it looked even more sensational than it had appeared on their way into the city the day before. Illuminated by torches set around its track of white sand, it had an otherworldly quality, as if it
were the stadium of the gods themselves.

Some kind of training exercise was taking place there: a couple of chariots, each harnessed to a team of galloping horses, were flying around the track as a coach shouted instructions from the side-lines.

‘There’s a big race tomorrow,’ Charlie explained. ‘One of the biggest of the year. By tomorrow morning, the whole of Rome will be here.’

Jake could also hear distant shrieks and roars of animals. He couldn’t tell where they were coming from.

‘Wild beasts,’ said Charlie. He pointed to the great stone island in the centre of the arena that divided the track in two. ‘They’re caged under the
spina
there. They’ll be bears, tigers, perhaps even a rhinoceros – animals from every corner of the world.’ He screwed up his face with distaste. ‘They parade them before the chariot races or use them for their gory entertainments.’

As Jake looked more carefully, he noticed workmen erecting a wooden balustrade around the edge of the island. ‘Do people stand up there too?’ he asked.

‘Oh yes, the
crème de la crème
watch from the
spina
. Rome’s six hundred-odd senators. It’s
symbolic, you see:
standing on top of the beasts
. To show the people that they are kings – not just of the world – but of all nature. Although actually it’s a new tradition; they used to sit beside the
pulvinar
over there.’ Charlie pointed towards a stone structure opposite – a temple with columns fronted by a wide terrace. ‘That’s the imperial box, where the emperor sits.’

Again they heard distant roars from the
spina
, carried up on the warm night air. Charlie’s eyes lingered for a moment. ‘Anyway, we should go now,’ he said at last.

They slipped on their masks – Jake’s had a cheerful smile, while Charlie’s looked a little confused – and headed up the drive. A doorman stepped forward to take their names. Jake gave his in a steady voice that belied his terror. A thick-set guard opened the gates and they were both ushered inside.

A line of slaves, each standing rigidly to attention, heads bowed, marked the way through a series of wide corridors towards the sounds of the party. At last they emerged into the open air.

They were greeted with such a spine-chilling sight that Jake faltered. A hundred frozen masks turned in unison to scrutinize the new arrivals. Jake
felt beads of sweat running down his forehead under his own mask.

‘All right?’ Charlie whispered, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jake nodded and took a deep breath. Gradually the masked faces turned back to their own groups and the chatter resumed.

It was an extraordinary space, long and colonnaded, echoing the form of the Circus Maximus below, but in miniature. It was open to the stars and adorned with eye-catching statues. Dinner tables were set up along the sides, with elegant, silk-covered couches. (Jake had learned that Romans – the rich ones at any rate – did not use dining chairs but ate lying down!) In the centre, steps led down to an arena, elliptical in shape, bordered by a low wall and illuminated by lanterns. Here, no doubt, Jake realized with a shiver, Agata’s
ludi sanguinei
, or blood games, would later take place.

At the very edges, half in the shadows of the stone columns, musicians played lutes, flutes and lyres, and a small army of slaves waited discreetly to attend to the whims of the guests.

‘Monster she may be, but it’s undeniable that Agata Zeldt has taste!’ a voice said from behind a mask. It was Nathan, excited to find himself at such
a lavish event. Behind him, Lucius’s hulking frame looked ill at ease. ‘She has a sense of theatre, of
grand guignol
, which is quite refreshing after her brother’s gloomy Gothicism.’ Nathan held up his silver goblet. ‘May I recommend the honey and watermelon cocktails? They’re chilled perfection, as you might say, Charlie. No doubt as icy as our hostess.’

‘And where
is
our hostess?’ Charlie asked anxiously. ‘Any sign?’

‘Not to mention Topaz,’ Jake added. He had already scanned all the females in the garden.

‘Well,
there
is the statue of Saturn.’ Charlie nodded towards a sculpture under the colonnade: a chunky, bearded deity holding a torch in his hand. ‘There’s a door next to it.’

Just then they heard a loud roll of drums followed by a fanfare of horns, and three figures appeared through the grand archway at the far end of the arena; there were gasps of wonder from the guests, followed by a spontaneous ripple of applause.

Leading the group was their hostess herself, dressed in a fantastically devilish costume inspired by dark birds of paradise. A bodice of feathers clung
to her lithe frame and a bustle sprouted magnificently from her behind. A collar of long peacock quills encased her head and set off her flame-coloured hair. She wore a half-mask – in deep ultramarine – exposing her cruel, bloodless lips.

‘Well, of course she’s playing fast and loose with every fashion under the sun,’ whispered Nathan in awe, ‘but what a sensational result!’

‘Wake-up call!’ said Charlie, clicking his fingers in front of Nathan to get his attention. ‘She murders for pleasure and she’s about to destroy the world as we know it!’

Jake was not looking at Agata; he was staring at the two figures behind her. His lip curled in disgust at the sight of the blond youth on Agata’s left, whom he recognized immediately – even behind his spotted mask – as the arrogant Leopardo. But his heart went out to the chained and manacled figure the boy was pulling along as if she were a circus animal: Topaz.

Lucius started snorting and flexing his muscles, and Nathan had to hold him back. ‘Remember what you and Jake were told? We don’t know her.’

Once again, Jake couldn’t help thinking how different she looked from the bright, vivacious
Topaz he had first met in London. Earlier that morning she had been steelier; now she was almost pathetic.

Agata held up her hands majestically and said a few words in Latin, her voice soft and deadly as poison. ‘
Welcome, all. So happy you could join us in our humble home
,’ Charlie translated with a roll of the eyes. Then she clapped her hands together and instructed everyone to recline and enjoy the feast.

‘That’s our cue,’ Nathan said, nodding at the others.

While the guests took their positions on the couches, the slaves brought in chargers of food. In the confusion, the four boys surreptitiously made their way towards the concealed doorway next to the statue of Saturn.

They had nearly reached it when a shadow loomed up ahead of them. Jake’s heart stopped when he realized that the figure was wearing a leopard mask and was trailing the unfortunate Topaz behind him.

‘
Sedete
,’ he said in a silky voice, motioning for them to sit.

There was some space amongst a group of diners reclining around the nearest table. The boys
couldn’t very well refuse. Charlie thanked Leopardo with a gracious bow and they took their places as calmly as they were able. Jake noticed that Topaz looked terrified, but her half-brother gave no indication that he suspected anything, and lay down with his back to them.

As she took a seat next to the monster, Topaz quickly glanced around. Her eyes made contact with Jake’s. She glared at him for a moment – in fear or friendship, he couldn’t tell – then turned away.

Jake looked at the other diners; they were an unappealing lot, arrogant and overfed, gossiping and laughing, one eye fixed on the new arrivals. They had half pushed up their masks in anticipation of food and motioned for the boys to do the same. Keeping their faces hidden as much as possible, they followed suit.

Suspended just above the table – and, indeed, Jake noticed, above
every
table – was a little cage containing a small bird with vivid yellow plumage singing an exquisite song. Charlie was immediately taken with it and tried to reach his fingers in, but the creature was unfriendly, puffing its feathers and shrinking away from him. Suddenly something far more alarming caught Charlie’s attention. ‘Hell’s
bells,’ he muttered under his breath as a slave approached with a great platter and set it down on the table in front of them, explaining what it was.

‘Baked flamingo and swan surprise,’ Charlie translated in a horrified whisper.

The guests were all cooing with delight, but Jake could barely believe his eyes: from the roasted bodies of two giant birds (still covered in charred feathers) two necks – one pink and one white – rose up to create the shape of a heart between them, their beaks touching in a delicate kiss of death.

‘I wonder what the surprise is?’ Nathan asked out of the side of his mouth. Usually he was quite imperturbable, but even he looked a little worried.

The attendant plunged a knife into the side of each bird. From within came a chorus of high-pitched cries, and out flew a handful of live nightingales. Lucius stood up and half drew his sword in fright, much to the amusement of their fellow diners, but Nathan pulled him down again. From every table, amidst applause and cheers, nightingales took off, fluttering in confusion into the sky.

‘Barbaric,’ Charlie whispered under his breath, shaking his head. ‘Absolutely barbaric.’

The culinary horrors did not end there. Dish after dish of macabre recipes were brought out. Mostly they had an avian theme: turtledove ragout with pomegranates, peacock stewed in honey and damsons, and ostrich flambé; but there were other recipes to bring shudders of distaste: jellyfish and eggs, pickled sea urchins, and eels stuffed with sprats.

Lucius ate nearly everything, which meant that Nathan felt obliged to do the same. Jake bravely tried to swallow something, so as not to attract too much attention, but Charlie ate practically nothing, and became more and more upset by what he called ‘the dreadful savagery of the rich’.

Towards the end of the meal, a figure appeared at the main door: a tall, strange-looking man with a gaunt, unmasked face and a long plaited beard. Jake recognized him, but couldn’t remember where from. Eventually he started to weave his way between the tables until he was at Agata’s side. She received him with a nod and he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Jake suddenly realized: ‘It’s the man from the laboratory in Vulcano,’ he said quietly. They had seen him working in the room with the
foul-smelling plants. Nathan and Charlie looked over.

‘No doubt he has come to assist her with
the end of dominions
,’ the latter commented, his gloom sharpened by hunger.

After the dishes had been cleared away, an unusual-looking man wearing a wig of curling red hair – a master of ceremonies of some kind – stepped into the middle of the arena and made an announcement in a deep, gravelly voice. What he had said soon became clear – for at each table the guests opened their birdcages to let loose the yellow songbirds. They flew up in unison, circled one way, then the other, before finally settling on the man, so that he looked like a giant bird himself. To complete this image, he started to rise up into the air as if he were indeed flying. Jake realized that he was actually being raised up by some underground mechanism, but it was such an eye-catching trick that the amazed audience immediately stood up to get a better look. It was at this moment that Topaz turned and nodded at the others to indicate that now was the time to go.

No one noticed the four boys disappear into the shadows of the colonnade and creep over to
the statue of Saturn. In a flash Nathan had produced Topaz’s key, unlocked the door, and led the others inside.

Nathan and Jake breathed a sigh of relief as they unwound the lengths of ropes and slung them over their shoulders. They made their way up the narrow steps, flight after flight, their footsteps echoing around the dark stairwell, until finally they came to a door. At first it would not open, and Charlie feared it might also be locked; but Nathan gave it an almighty shove, burst through, and the others followed him out onto the terrace.

They were at one of the highest points in the city and the view – 360 degrees of it – was astounding. Under a perfect evening sky of midnight blue, the white marble of the city extended into the distant purple haze. It seemed much more peaceful at night, especially viewed from this vantage point, and a warm breeze swirled around them with a faint whistle.