Pompeii (Harris, Robert) by Harris Robert

Author:Harris, Robert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2003-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

Pliny had grown too fat for a litter. He traveled instead by carriage, a two-seater, with Gaius wedged in next to him. Beside his red and corpulent uncle he looked as pale and insubstantial as a wraith. The admiral squeezed his knee fondly. He had made the boy his heir and had fixed him up with the finest tutors in Rome—Quintilian for literature and history; the Smyrnan, Nicetes Sacerdos, for rhetoric. It was costing him a fortune but they told him the lad was brilliant. He would never make a soldier, though. It would be a lawyer’s life for him.

An escort of helmeted marines trotted on foot on either side of the carriage, clearing a path for them through the narrow streets. A couple of people jeered. Someone spat.

“What about our water, then?”

“Look at that fat bastard! I bet you he’s not going thirsty!”

Gaius said, “Shall I close the curtains, uncle?”

“No, boy. Never let them see that you’re afraid.”

He knew there would be a lot of angry people on the streets tonight. Not just here, but in Neapolis and Nola and all the other towns, especially on a public festival. Perhaps Mother Nature is punishing us, he thought, for our greed and selfishness. We torture her at all hours by iron and wood, fire and stone. We dig her up and dump her in the sea. We sink mineshafts into her and drag out her entrails—and all for a jewel to wear on a pretty finger. Who can blame her if she occasionally quivers with anger?

They passed along the harbor front. An immense line of people had formed, queuing for the drinking fountain. Each had been allowed to bring one receptacle only and it was obvious to Pliny that an hour was never going to be sufficient for them all to receive their measure. Those who had been at the head of the line already had their ration and were hurrying away, cradling their pots and pans as if they were carrying gold. “We shall have to extend the flow tonight,” he said, “and trust to that young aquarius to carry out the repairs as he promised.”

“And if he doesn’t, uncle?”

“Then half this town will be on fire tomorrow.”

Once they were free of the crowd and on the causeway the carriage picked up speed. It rattled over the wooden bridge, then slowed again as they climbed the hill toward the Piscina Mirabilis. Jolting around in the back Pliny felt sure he was about to faint and perhaps he did. At any rate, he nodded off, and the next thing he knew they were drawing into the courtyard of the reservoir, past the flushed faces of half a dozen marines. He returned their salute and descended, unsteadily, on Gaius’s arm. If the emperor takes away my command, he thought, I shall die, as surely as if he orders one of his praetorian guard to strike my head from my shoulders. I shall never write another book. My life force has gone. I am finished.

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