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'Sympathy does us little good, Doctor,' Amos noted.
'Nevertheless,' the Doctor replied. 'I will will help you with this,' help you with this,'
he concluded, waving one of the scrolls in his hand.
Edius Flavia arrived at the Villa P raefecius Villa P raefecius and strutted, arrogantly, like a peac.o.c.k with delusions of grandeur, into the great hall. and strutted, arrogantly, like a peac.o.c.k with delusions of grandeur, into the great hall.
Once there, he headed up the sweeping marbled staircase to the servants' quarters on the mezzanine. At the top of the stairs, he was approached by a nervous slave boy who asked if he required any help.
'No,' said Edius, flatly, 'unless you want to throw yourself onto the end of my sword for sport, yes?'
The slave, Gravus, mutely shook his head, bowed and hurried away without turning his back on the Roman tribune, who stared after him with a gloating sneer on his face.
Halfway along the corridor, he met another obstacle. This one was more formidable.
'The tribune requires directions, perhaps?' asked Drusus in a heavy and sarcastic tone.
Edius turned and stared Drusus up and down for a long and considered moment, 'Be advised, freedman,' he said, 'that I come upon this house exactly on the hour, on the strict and sole orders of Gaius Calaphilus. I have business with one that is within and not with the likes of you. Now be off with you before I have you flayed across a wheel until you die.' die.'
Drasus bowed so low that his head almost touched the ground. He stood upright, turned and slowly walked in the opposite direction with Edius staring hatefully after him.
The young soldier finally tore his eyes away from the departing figure and found the door that he was looking for. Without knocking, he threw it open to discover Felicia lying on her bed covered only by a thin sheet. She looked up at Edius and a smile grew on her lips. 'You came,' she said. I thought you might.'
Edius sat on the bed, roughly, and swung his feet around to kick Felicia in the back. 'Get on the floor and take off my boots, harlot,' he said with a cruel snarl. The handmaiden instantly complied.
She shook the sand from his leather sandals as she removed them and flung them into a corner as her vampire eyes looked up at him, hungrily.
'Now,' he said, 'my belt and sword need removing, unless you want me to fillet you.'
Felicia undid the silver belt-buckle and let the heavy scabbard fall away behind Edius onto the floor with a clatter.
Edius slipped out of his own tunic and knelt on the bed.
'Stand up,' he ordered. The handmaiden did so.
'Come here,' he continued.
Felicia did as she was told.
'Lie down and don't make a sound or you shall suffer for it,'
he concluded.
The s.e.x, when it happened, was cold and impersonal, Edius clawing at the skin on Felicia's back as she moaned softly and bit into her pillow.
Then, as Edius cried out in triumph at the climax, the door burst open once more and he turned, naked and embarra.s.sed, to find a dozen soldiers silhouetted in the doorway, most of them with wicked smirks on their faces.
Despite the circ.u.mstances, Edius felt powerful enough to scream an obscenity at them. Exhausted and drained, Felicia continued to lie on the bed, face down, sobbing into her sheets.
'What is the meaning of this?' demanded Edius in a shrill, almost feminine voice. Red-faced, he stood from the bed and began to walk towards the door, but stopped in his tracks when the guards parted to let Gaius Calaphilus through.
'Caught in a somewhat injudicious moment, seemingly, tribune?' asked the general.
Edius stared back defiantly and ridiculously, stark naked.
But he still saluted in the presence of a superior officer. 'Hail Caesar,' he said flatly, before adding, 'Do you think that this is an appropriate moment to invade someone's privacy, sir?'
he asked casually. 'As you can see, I'm busy giving this slave a moment that she will not forget in a long time.' He turned and poked Felicia in the side with his finger. 'Face the general when you address him, slave,' he ordered.
But the tribune's amus.e.m.e.nt turned to horror as his paramour spun around, her face lined with tears, and screamed loudly. 'That beast raped me,' she said with a mixture of pain and guilt. 'I said no but he would not stop.'
'She is lying,' lying,' shouted Edius, aiming an open-fisted blow to the handmaiden's face before anyone could stop him. 'You deceitful she-b.i.t.c.h, I shall have you dragged through the streets for your insolence.' He turned back towards the general, but as he swung around he was himself knocked back by a hard punch to the jaw, He skittered backwards, falling head over heels and lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. shouted Edius, aiming an open-fisted blow to the handmaiden's face before anyone could stop him. 'You deceitful she-b.i.t.c.h, I shall have you dragged through the streets for your insolence.' He turned back towards the general, but as he swung around he was himself knocked back by a hard punch to the jaw, He skittered backwards, falling head over heels and lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed.
'Seize him,' said Calaphilus, as the guards poured into the room and pulled up their naked tribune, still shouting and protesting his innocence. 'Take him to the dungeons,'
continued the general. 'I shall be down to make an example of him later this day.'
As the screaming Edius was manhandled from the room, Calaphilus dropped a bag of coins on to the handmaiden's bed. excellent,' he told the girl, who was dressing herself quickly and drying her tear-stained cheeks. She picked up the bag, weighed it in her hand, opened it and tumbled the coins onto the bed where they lay, glittering in the dim candlelight.
'Thank you,' she said, her face cracking into a smile. 'And kindly thank Caesar for his generous bounty.'
Without another word, Calaphilus turned and left her alone with her money.
Chapter Twenty-Two.
The Culture Bunker, Part Six - Jehovahkill
For false Christs and false prophets shall rise, and shall shew signs and wonders, and shall shew signs and wonders, to seduce... But take ye heed: behold, I have foretold you all things. I have foretold you all things.
Mark 13:22-23
This is wrong,' the Doctor said, loudly, catching the attention of the scribes.
'I beg your pardon?' asked Amos, haughtily. 'What are you saying?'
This translation is wrong,' repeated the Doctor. 'Inaccurate.
Incorrect:. Substandard. Would you like me to elucidate further?'
Reuben took the ma.n.u.script from the Doctor's hand and read the pa.s.sage to which the Doctor was pointing. 'He is referring to the story of Jesus curing the apostle Peter's mother-in-law from a fever,' he told his colleagues. 'And what, please tell us, is wrong with it?'
The Doctor waved the two scrolls in Reuben's face, angrily 'Don't take that tone with me, young man, I've been translating ancient languages into other ancient languages since before you were born. And long after you've died as well!' He paused, and pointed again to the Greek translation.
'This is all nonsense. "Immediately he left the synagogue, and then he entered into the house of Simon and Andrew along with James and John. When he got there he found that Simon's mother-in-law lay sick with a nasty fever, and immediately they told him about this. So, he lifted her up, and the fever left her; and she, being better, served them food." Utter nonsense!'
'That is exactly what it says,' countered Rayhab, defensively. 'Word for word.'
'No, it doesn't!' spluttered the Doctor, laughing at their foolishness. 'It says, "And forthwith when they were come out of the synagogue, they entered into the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. But Simon's wife's mother lay sick of a fever, and anon they told him of her. And he came and took her by the hand, and lifted her up; and immediately the fever left her, and she ministered unto them".'
'What is the difference?' asked Reuben.
'What is the difference?' repeated the Doctor, with a girlish shriek. 'There's a whole world of difference. Dear, dear, dear, I can see I'm going to have to go back through all of the work you've already done and double-check it.' repeated the Doctor, with a girlish shriek. 'There's a whole world of difference. Dear, dear, dear, I can see I'm going to have to go back through all of the work you've already done and double-check it.'
Amos, Rayhab and Reuben stared at the Doctor, unable to believe that their carefully translated texts were being ridiculed in such a way. And by such a strange person.
'But, but...' stammered Amos. 'We translated it accurately.'
'Perhaps,' said the Doctor, testily, 'but your version is as dry as stale bread. It is a chartered accountant's version of the scripture. It ignores the nuances and the flair for language and poetry of the author. The flow of the sentences. The brilliance and sparkling energy of the piece."And she served them piece."And she served them food"! food"! I ask you, who on Earth is going to get inspired enough to join your religion with phrases like that?! This,' he said rattling the recently translated piece. 'is soulless.' I ask you, who on Earth is going to get inspired enough to join your religion with phrases like that?! This,' he said rattling the recently translated piece. 'is soulless.'
'So you are suggesting what, exactly?' asked Rayhab.
That you follow your inspiration, not your sense of accuracy,' the Doctor told them.
It had taken Barbara over a day to pluck up the courage to finally confront Hieronymous again. And in that time she had done a lot of thinking as to exactly how she was going to phrase what she needed to say.
What it was necessary for her to say.
She had practised and practised until her little speech was word-perfect. But all of that fell flat on its back the moment that she saw the hurt in Hieronymous's face.
'I think we really need to have a chat,' she spluttered, completely destroying her carefully worded opening gambit about how time can be a great healer.
'Say whatsoever you have to say, woman,' spat Hieronymous.
'I have decided that it would be best for all concerned, myself included, if I simply left. Not just your home, but also Byzantium,' she said, flatly, ignoring a mult.i.tude of ways of cus.h.i.+oning of her dramatic announcement.
Barbara didn't have to be a mind-reader to know that Hieronymous was bitter and furious at her rejection of him.
'Without my intervention,' he snarled, facing away from her,
'you would have been denounced as a spy and stoned unto your death.'
It was impossible for Barbara to do anything else but agree with this. 'That is certainly true,' she began, 'but do you expect that I should spend the rest of my life groveling on my knees, thanking you for one act of kindness? I am grateful, as I've already told you. But you seem to require that I am something more...'
Her voice trailed away and she shook her head sadly as Hieronymous continued to ignore her. 'Although destiny brought us together,' Barbara added quickly, 'it will also be destiny that tears us apart. We were and are not meant to be so, Hieronymous.'
What tense is this? Past tense? Present tense? Future tense?
'And we shall continue not to be meant for each other.
You surely must see the logic of that?'
Finally, Hieronymous turned to face Barbara, and she could see that the priest was crying. His dignity was in grave danger of being swept away and s.h.i.+pwrecked, lost in a swelling sea-storm of emotions.
'I am sorry, Hieronymous,' Barbara said softly did not mean to hurt you. That is the last thing that I would have wished for.'
'Go,' said Hieronymous in an barely audible whisper. 'No Jew will molest or mistreat you within the limits of this city. I will personally make certain of this eventuality,'
'Thank you,' Barbara said and she brushed past Hieronymous and made for the door. She didn't pause there, even when he called out her name, nor did she look back once she was outside as he continued to wail after her.
She just kept walking into the Byzantium sunlight.
It had been the first time since that day in the market square that Ian had either been allowed, or had allowed himself, to leave the sanctuary of the Villa Praefectus. Villa Praefectus. Ian had wished that his reintroduction into whatever pa.s.sed for society in Byzantium could have occurred more at his own choosing but the command (when it came) had left little room for manoeuvre. Ian had wished that his reintroduction into whatever pa.s.sed for society in Byzantium could have occurred more at his own choosing but the command (when it came) had left little room for manoeuvre.
Come to the barracks, the note that had been pa.s.sed to him by Tobias had said. the note that had been pa.s.sed to him by Tobias had said. And come alone. And come alone.
Ian found the meeting place easily enough and then had to endure a torturous twenty minutes waiting around for whoever had written the note to make themselves known to him.
He felt like a spare groom at a wedding as numerous soldiers pa.s.sed him, going in and out of the barracks.
When general Calaphilus finally arrived, his appearance didn't surprise Ian in the slightest. 'I'd figured that it was probably you who sent the note,' Chesterton said flatly. 'Less of a request, more of a command. It smelled of the military a mile away.'