Enemy of Rome

XXX

They were passing the city’s bath house when Valerius heard a high-pitched scream of the utmost terror. He searched the area to look for the source, but Serpentius urged him to continue. ‘Haven’t we done enough?’ the Spaniard demanded.

‘Where did it come from?’

‘Over there.’ Serpentius pointed to a burning building on the corner of a street of insulae apartments. ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ he insisted.

But Valerius was already racing towards the smoke and flames vomiting from the lower windows. At street level the building was occupied by small shops, the frontage covered by a wooden awning to shelter their displays. The awning stretched the entire breadth of the arcade and by the time they reached it the structure was well alight.

‘I told you, there’s nothing we can do,’ the Spaniard repeated. ‘We should-’

A second shriek split the air, this time the unmistakable cry of a terrified child.

‘Merda,’ Serpentius cursed.

Valerius paused when he felt the blast of heat from the blazing awning. At first glance it looked impossible to get into the building. Flames ate at the wooden posts supporting the roof of the structure. But when he studied it more closely he saw that the door and the stairway beyond were still relatively clear. ‘We can do it,’ he insisted. ‘It will hold long for enough for us to reach whoever’s inside.’

Serpentius studied the burning awning doubtfully. ‘You don’t know what it’s like in there. If that comes down we’ll be trapped with our arses on a roasting plate.’

‘Then let’s get it done before it does.’ Crouching low, Valerius made a dash for the doorway. With a muttered curse, Serpentius followed him.

As they sprinted upwards through the darkened stairwell a stumpy figure walked warily across the street towards the burning building. Gaius Brocchus had had a good day. He’d survived the assault on Cremona, made more than a few Vitellians pay, and found a goldsmith who had helpfully guided him to the location of his buried stock, thanks to the incentive of a gladius point in his rectum. He carried the most portable slice of the proceeds in the bag across his shoulder, but there was more, much more. He’d come back for the rest in a couple of hours, when it was dark. Brocchus had seen Valerius in the alleyway by pure chance, but the encounter had been enough to make him follow the two men. Gaius Valerius Verrens had insulted him in front of his men and undermined his authority. As far as Brocchus was concerned his new legate was nothing but trouble and not really a proper legate at all. He studied the doorway where they’d disappeared, the smoke now billowing from the second-storey windows and flames licking at the shutters. But it was the awning he found of greatest interest. With a grin he put his boot to the support nearest the doorway, so that it shuddered and sparks fell from above. Once. Twice. With the third kick the structure gave way, bringing the burning roof crashing down with it. Jumping away from the glowing cinders, Brocchus studied what he’d accomplished with satisfaction. Where the door had been was nothing but an inferno of flaming timbers.

Whoever was inside wasn’t coming back out again.

Valerius heard the crash below and a blast of heat surged up the narrow stairway of the apartment block.

‘Merda!’ Serpentius repeated, the I told you so left unsaid.

‘Keep going,’ the Roman shouted. ‘The scream came from one of the top rooms.’

‘That’s comforting,’ the Spaniard coughed. ‘We’ll be able to offer them the choice of being incinerated or trying to fly five floors without the benefit of wings.’

‘You’ll breathe less smoke if you keep your mouth shut,’ Valerius rapped.

On the first landing the maze of corridors and curtained doorways was already well alight, but the stairs were clear. Valerius launched himself at the next set, taking them three at a time to escape being scorched. A distinctive scent caught his attention and the stink of roasting flesh reminded him of the day poor Messor had burned to death nailed to the doorway of the Temple of Claudius. Already the heat seared his bare legs and he could feel it through the soles of his iron-shod sandals.

It was a similar story on the second landing and they continued upwards without pause. Halfway up the body of an old man lay face down on the stairs, the blood from his cut throat staining the worn concrete. They leapt past with barely a glance. Valerius noticed that although the lower floors of the insula had been brick built, up here it was different. The stair corridor was constructed of tinder-dry wood, added by a greedy landlord who’d somehow circumvented the fire regulations. When the flames reached this level the entire building would probably go up like a torch soaked in pitch. Up here there was no water supply, but a two-storey light well looked on to a small paved courtyard where the residents could safely cook food in shared ovens.

‘Is anybody there?’ Valerius shouted breathlessly.

‘What now?’ Serpentius demanded when there was no response from the curtained doorways surrounding the courtyard.

‘If you were trying to escape a fire and hiding from killers, where would you go?’

The Spaniard’s eyes immediately went to the top floor. They headed for the stairs, only to be halted by a crash that shook the whole building. A new cloud of sparks and smoke exploded from the lower stairwell. ‘There’s no going back whether we wanted to or not,’ Serpentius grunted. ‘I hope you’re working on a way to get us out of here.’

‘Just one last look,’ the Roman insisted.

This time they split up, making a cursory search of each apartment. Valerius was just about to give up when he heard what might have been a sob, instantly drowned out by another thunderous crash and a great flare of yellow that illuminated the sparsely furnished room.

‘Valerius!’ Serpentius shouted. ‘We have to get out of here.’

But another sound confirmed Valerius’s suspicions. He hauled back the curtain on to the apartment’s narrow balcony and found himself the focus of several terrified sets of eyes. Two children, a boy and a girl of about five and seven, a babe in swaddling clothes, and two couples, one of the women heavily pregnant, all huddled together and struck mute by fear.

‘Come,’ he said urgently. ‘We are here to help.’

‘Valerius!’

‘Please. You must come with me or we will all die.’

Without a word the older of the two women picked up the baby and took the little girl by the hand. Their father followed with the boy and finally the younger man and the pregnant woman. Valerius led them to where the inner balcony overlooked the central courtyard. A shrill cry of terror greeted the sight that met them. The base of the light well was already an inferno that belched flame and smoke. It meant the rooms directly below must already be partly consumed and the only surprise was that the whole building hadn’t collapsed.

Valerius turned to the father, knowing the answer before he spoke. ‘Is there another way out?’

The man shook his head and held his son closer, hopelessness filling his pale eyes.

‘The roof,’ Serpentius coughed. ‘It’s our only chance.’

‘The women …?’

‘Women can climb too. Give me your belt.’

Without hesitation Valerius unhooked his leather belt and handed it to the Spaniard, who had already freed his own. The red-tiled roof sloped into the well about seven or eight feet above, supported by pillars on the edge of the balcony. Serpentius took hold of one of the pillars and sprang up on to the narrow rail that guarded the two storey drop. The platform just allowed him to reach the roof. Perched above the inferno, the Spaniard stretched up and tested the red clay tiles with his free hand. When he was satisfied they were firm enough to support him he turned to Valerius with a grim half-smile. ‘Do or die, eh?’

Without a glance at the flames below, Serpentius placed the belts between his teeth and reached up to take the roof in both hands. His arm muscles bulged and the sinews stood out like writhing snakes as he hauled himself up so his head and shoulders disappeared from those below. At first it seemed he must be stranded halfway, but with an acrobatic flip of the hips he somehow found the purchase to swing himself up. A second later the fearsome head reappeared.

‘Hand me the boy.’

Valerius held out his left hand, but the child clung tighter to his father and stared in nervous fascination at the wooden fist of the right.

‘We don’t have time for this.’ Valerius met the man’s terrified eyes as the building shuddered and another crash sent a fountain of sparks up from below. ‘What is his name?’

‘Gaius.’

‘Come,’ Valerius encouraged. ‘My name is Gaius too.’

The man bent and whispered something in his son’s ear. Whatever he said, the words had their effect, because Gaius frowned, his chin came up and he took Valerius’s hand.

‘You are very brave,’ the Roman said, picking him up, ‘and I’m sure your sister will be too. Now hang on tight until I tell you to let go.’ Small hands wrapped round his neck and he was able to clamber up and balance on the rail using the pillar for support. Smoke billowed past them through the opening in the roof and he felt the boy flinch at the heat from the flames. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘Don’t look down. I’ll lift you and you must reach up with both hands. Do you understand?’ Gaius’s dark eyes turned serious and he nodded. Valerius freed his hand from the pillar, took a deep breath and raised the slight figure. The wooden fist made holding his burden awkward, but somehow he managed, and as Gaius raised his arms Serpentius snatched him to the temporary safety of the roof. Unbalanced by the sudden loss of weight Valerius felt a thrill of terror as he teetered over the drop until Gaius’s father stepped forward to steady him. Breathing hard, he nodded his thanks and steadied himself.

‘Now the girl,’ came the voice from above.

The girl, Julia, was less reluctant. With a word of assurance from her mother she came into Valerius’s arms and he was able to repeat the exercise with less peril. Serpentius helped her up to the spine of the roof and sat her down beside her brother with orders not to move a finger.

‘Best get the mother up next.’

‘My baby?’ the woman whimpered.

‘You won’t be apart for long,’ Valerius promised.

She handed the wriggling bundle to the pregnant girl and stepped forward without any further urging from Valerius. A slim woman, he could see she was terrified, but utterly determined to join her children. Her husband helped her up on to the rail, where she held fast to the pillar trying not to look down at the flames.

One end of the knotted sword belts flipped down from above. ‘Tie this round your wrist.’

With Valerius’s help the woman did as she was instructed. ‘Now,’ Valerius said, ‘your dignity may suffer a little, but you will soon be with your children. I will hand the baby up next.’

Her husband hovered protectively below and Valerius had an idea. ‘Get up on the other side of the pillar, put your arms around it and make a sling of your hands. Understand?’ The man nodded and climbed gingerly on to the rail.

Valerius turned back to the woman. ‘When I boost you up, use your husband’s hands as a foot rest and raise yourself as high as you can, with your hands in the air. Don’t worry about falling, I’ll steady you and Serpentius will lift you. Are you ready?’ She nodded and he saw that in her terror she’d bitten her lip so hard it bled. He placed his hands round her waist. ‘Now!’ He lifted her, straining to keep his balance on the rail, felt the moment she pushed with her foot and the burden lightened as Serpentius gripped her hands. Even the Spaniard’s great strength was tested by the weight and the awkwardness of his position. Somehow he managed to wrestle her up and with a cry the kicking legs disappeared from view. As they’d been working, Valerius had been conscious of the increasing heat from below. On the far side of the space he could see the flames licking at the bottom of the same level where they were perched. The floorboards beneath his feet creaked and smoke filtered through the cracks. He had a moment of mind-tearing panic that faded as the pregnant girl stepped forward and handed him the baby. Serpentius had the belts ready and Valerius held the child while the father made a sling and tied it firmly round the whimpering infant’s armpits. Serpentius pulled on the belts and Valerius guided the baby until the Spaniard could lift the cloth-wrapped bundle.

With the baby gone, the pregnant girl stepped forward willingly, her face set in an expression of utter determination. Valerius and the older man were able to repeat the technique they’d used with the mother. The two men went next, leaving Valerius alone on the balcony. By now the flames were licking at the rail and he reached above, praying that Serpentius still had the strength to lift him. Hands like a pair of iron bands closed on his wrist and the cowhide stock of the wooden hand and he felt himself suspended in mid-air. With one convulsive heave the Spaniard dragged him over the edge of the tiles.

For a moment they lay side by side in a daze of physical and mental exhaustion. The Spaniard’s eyes were closed and he breathed like a man who’d just swum the Strait of Messana.

Valerius moved first. ‘This is no time to be lying around, unless you want know what a roasted chicken feels like,’ he said. Serpentius grunted and they hauled themselves to their feet and edged their way to the ridge to join the family. The wide eyes of the adults reflected not only the peril of their situation, but the horror done to their city. In every direction the smoke from a thousand fires smeared the sky, and they winced at the crackle and crash of burning buildings. Valerius had always known a price would be exacted for Cremona’s unflinching support for Vitellius, but he had never expected this. It was as if Primus’s legionaries wanted to wipe the city from the map.

He dragged his eyes away from the destruction and surveyed their position. The insula occupied a corner site joined to the buildings around it. Behind them, the red tiles stretched away at the same height, but no route back to the ground presented itself. Billowing smoke confirmed the shops and apartments below were also well ablaze. The way to his left seemed to offer more opportunity. Here also the buildings were on fire, but the roof fell away in a succession of steps until perhaps two hundred paces away it was only two storeys high. In a courtyard behind the insulae he could see the upper branches of a large tree which might provide their escape.

He made his decision. ‘This way,’ he said. ‘And stay together.’ He picked up Gaius and Serpentius took the girl by the hand, and they led the little group to the edge of the roof. It was a drop of twice the height of a man to the lower roof and would have been much more dangerous if Serpentius hadn’t retained the sword belts. The Spaniard went first and Valerius used the thin strip of leather to lower the boy, repeating the exercise with Julia. When he’d helped the adults descend, with the pregnant girl last, Valerius lowered himself and dropped like a cat on to the tiles below.

Step by wary step they made their way to the next drop in the roofs, climbed down, and repeated the manoeuvre on to the lowest level. By the time Valerius followed, the others were already well ahead. It was only then that he realized the roof was shimmering with heat. As he walked forward he could feel it on his legs and through the soles of his sandals. The temperature was so high that some of the roof tiles had cracked. As he pressed cautiously forward he could hear others snapping and noticed small wisps of smoke seeping through gaps. He could only imagine what was happening beneath his feet.

‘Hurry,’ he called to Serpentius. The Spaniard was four-fifths of the way across, leading little Julia, and he raised his free hand to show he’d heard. Behind him came the father with Gaius in his arms, then Gaius’s mother with her baby. The pregnant girl walked hand in hand with her husband, but she’d slowed and they were clearly in difficulty. Valerius hurried forward to help them. Four paces from the couple he heard a loud crack, instantly followed by a moment when the world seemed to freeze. He watched in disbelief as the tiles fell away and, still clutching each other, the two young people dropped into a sea of fire. Valerius recoiled from the furnace blast of heat that erupted from the gaping fissure and stared at the place where they’d disappeared.

‘Valerius!’ The urgency in Serpentius’s voice brought him back to the present. The Spaniard had sent the rest of the refugee family away to the far end of the roof where they stood in a weeping huddle.

‘I …’

‘You must jump, now. Delay even a moment and it will be too late.’ Valerius contemplated the glowing barrier and shook his head at the impossibility of what the Spaniard was asking. He searched desperately for an alternative. Surely there must be another way?

‘Do or die, Valerius.’ Serpentius’s eyes met his and Valerius felt as if the Spaniard had read his mind.

Before another negative thought could fix itself in his head, he backed up four paces and launched himself at the gap. How far was it? Four paces? Five? What if he lost his footing? He would burn to death in an instant. Better to have tried to climb down and broken his neck in the attempt. Too late. He fixed Domitia’s face in his head. Do or die. He picked a spot a pace back from the edge. When his front foot hit the mark, he threw his body forward and upwards, feeling the heat singe his lower body. He tried not to think about what was below as he stretched his legs in front of him. Was he going to make it? He was so close. A scream of frustration escaped him as he realized that though his feet were going to hit the first row of tiles he didn’t have the momentum to carry his body with them. Great Mars save me. His boots touched with a clatter of breaking tile and he tried to throw his torso forward. For a moment he hung in space before his weight inevitably pulled him back into the inferno. From nowhere a hand shot out and snatched the front of his tunic. Very carefully, Serpentius pulled him to safety.

‘Next time you decide to rescue somebody, please do it yourself.’

‘Very well,’ Valerius released a long groan of relief. ‘But can we get away from here? My backside appears to be on fire.’