The Flame and the Wind by John Blackburn

Author:John Blackburn
Format: epub

They travelled down the coast at first, past Ascalon and Gaza, the old cities of the Philistines, along the main road to Egypt, a level, well-engineered highway running beside the sea and thick with traffic; chained galley slaves on their way to Caesarea, camel trains, merchants riding in litters and chariots, a squadron of irregular cavalry transferring to Syria. The route of the conquerors that Alexander had taken, and Antony, and the demi-god Julius; outside Italy the busiest road in the world, and at every mile-post Sextus wondered if it would lead them to the first definite piece of information.

‘By all means take the girl with you,’ Eros had said. ‘I think you are insane to wish to marry her, but that is your business. All I know is that to gain her love, you must first destroy her absurd belief in the Nazarene, and something tells me you will find the means on Sinai.’ He had smiled and kept fondling the hilt of his dagger as he spoke.

‘The African mentioned a woman, didn’t he, Sextus? A woman named Rosetta, and that interests me very much indeed. Go with the gods, my friend, and bring back the information we need so badly.’

Eros was right of course. From the moment he had told her they would go together, Rachel had been like a child setting out on some miraculous adventure, though her expectations were very different from his. She believed implicitly that they would find proof of the man’s divinity in the peninsula, and her eyes gleamed with excitement as the long road carried them on to the south and west.

Behind her, the man whom Eros had detailed to accompany them lolled rather than rode, and only a tuneless dirge which he constantly hummed proved him awake. His name was Thassi, a Jew born at Alexandria who had served the Department since he was a boy, and was regarded as one of Macro’s most trusted agents. Thassi admitted that it was fifteen years since he had visited Sinai but though Sextus would have preferred someone who knew the country better, Eros had insisted on him.

‘We are dealing with a Jewish story,’ he had said. ‘And, though Thassi has cast off his religion long ago, his understanding will be much clearer than ours. Besides, the fellow has a gift which is far more precious than any knowledge of local topography. He can make people talk without the use of fear or pain. Trust Thassi, my friend, rely on him completely, and if there is a story to be found, he will dig it out for you.’ Well, perhaps Eros was right, but Sextus could see nothing impressive about Thassi so far. An old, stout man, recognizable as a Jew by the Star of David pressed tightly against the dewlapped folds of his throat, who looked as though he could hardly survive the journey. Behind him, the pack mule occasionally lifted its head and gave a hideous blare, as if in protest at the continual humming.

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