Page 79 of Enslaved
Tor was at her side as she walked the decks whenever Marcus was absent. She was both surprised and thankful that Petrius treated her like a princess whenever they came into contact, but she noticed cynically that he spent most of his time cultivating the procurator, who had obviously taken a fatherly interest in the disabled young brother of Marcus Magnus.
One day when the blue sea was calm as a millpond and the sun beat down gloriously, Diana decided to explore the Roman vessel. It was designed along the lines of Greek ships, except it had a long iron spike mounted on its prow. Tor told her the spike was used to ram into enemy ships, so they could let down a boarding plank for Roman soldiers to fight their way aboard. Diana shuddered, feeling thankful they had encountered no trouble.
She opened a heavy door and descended a flight of wooden steps. She stopped, aghast at what she saw. Rows of men, naked to the waist, sweat dripping from their well-muscled backs, were pulling on huge oars. Her hand covered her mouth in horror, her eyes widened to the size of saucers. Tor took her forcibly by the shoulders, turned her about, and pushed her back up the flight of steps.
On deck she took in great gasps of air, clinging to Tor as if he were a lifeline. Marcus strode along the deck, curious to know why Tor had his arms about Diana. When he was close enough to see that something was wrong with her, Marcus lifted her in his arms and felt her recoil from him.
“Galley slaves!” she gasped with loathing.
He carried her to their cabin and set her on the bunk before he answered her. She looked up at him with such accusing eyes, Marcus threw up his hands. “I cannot believe you are so naive. In the name of the gods, how did you expect our vessel to make the journey from Britannia to Rome? They are not all Britons,” he said defensively. “Some of them are Gauls, some Nubian—”
“They aremen,Marcus, no matter their race. Dear God, how can Romans be so indifferent to human misery? How can you condemn men to a lifetime of slavery in the galleys?”
“It’s not a lifetime. It’s ten years. Men need to be in their prime to row a galley.” When he saw that made it no more acceptable to her, he went down on one knee and took her hand. “Beloved, if I could right the wrongs of the world for you, I would do so. Perhaps there is no slavery in your time, but can you honestly say there is no suffering or injustice? In return for their labors our slaves are well fed and decently housed, and they are so numerous that none are overburdened.”
She thought of London, where the conditions of rich and poor were so disparate. The wealthy ton had an inexhaustible appetite for pleasure and luxury, while barefoot match girls quietly starved on street corners and children were sent down chimneys to sweep them, and often burned to death. Diana reasoned that Marcus could not be blamed for conditions of his time, any more than she could be blamed for the poverty and hunger of hers.
She touched his face. “By coming to Rome, you are striving to improve conditions for all Britons. I can ask no more of you.”
“We should arrive tomorrow,” he told her. “Come up on deck, where you can enjoy the sea and the sunshine.”
That last night aboard, as she lay in his arms, Diana told Marcus what history had recorded of Emperor Nero. “Avoid him if you can. He is a madman whose reign degenerates into cruelty and tyranny.”
“He murdered his own mother; I know all about Nero,” Marcus assured her.
“You don’t know that three years from now he will burn Rome so that he can build a vast new capital upon her ruins.”
“The City of Rome burns?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, but the new Rome will be magnificent and will last down through all the centuries. Nero will blame the fire on the Christians, but he will become so hated there’ll be a massive revolt against him and he’ll commit suicide before he is thirty-two.”
Marcus stared at the beams in the cabin ceiling and wondered if Diana really had lived in the future or if she simply had prophetic visions like many others claimed to have. He drew her against his heart. So long as they were together today, the past—and the future—didn’t matter to him.
Though she had dreaded coming to Rome, now that she was so close, Diana decided to let go of her fear. She had made her decision to be with Marcus and she wanted neither of them to have regrets. She would embrace his city wholeheartedly, as she did all things. Half measures were simply not in her nature. She would look upon it as a gift from the gods. To be able to see and experience ancient Rome was like a miracle. She vowed not to waste one moment in fear or regret.
They disembarked at Ostia at the mouth of the Tiber. The famous river, which would take them to Rome by barge, was wide with turbid yellow water. Marcus stayed by Diana’s side so he could point out all the landmarks of the area.
As she had read, she saw that Rome was indeed built upon seven hills. All was a confusion of enormous buildings, gilded roofs, domes, stately phalanxes of marble columns, and private homes with red-tiled roofs. Some were built in the valleys, others on the summits, and still others clinging to the slopes of the hills. Marcus pointed out temples, forums, amphitheatres, and the long hollow that was the great Circus Maximus.
“My father’s olive groves lie to the south,” he said, pointing out the chain of Sabine hills that stretched in a golden haze toward the horizon. “Our quarries are to the north, in the Apennines, where the River Tiber begins.”
“Are they stone quarries as in Aquae Sulis?”
“No, we quarry marble. The marble trade is Rome’s greatest commercial enterprise, as you shall see,” Marcus said proudly.
“Is your father’s villa here in the city?”
“Yes, it is on the slopes of the Esquiline. By now my messenger will have informed him of our arrival. When our river craft docks, horses will be awaiting us, and I requested a grand litter for you.”
“Oh, I thought we could walk through the city,” Diana said with disappointment.
“Darling, over a million people live here and most of them will be on the streets. Our progress will be so slow, you’ll see more than you care to from your litter. We have to pass through some squalid districts before we start to climb the Esquiline, where the patricians’ villas are located.” He looked into her eyes, his face set in serious lines. “Rome is the crucible for everything good and bad in the world. There is no other city where the divine and the bestial are in such evidence. Don’t let it overwhelm you.”
When she gave him a reassuring smile, he brushed his lips across her brow, then beckoned Tor. “Find her a seat in the shade on the quay. It will take some time to unload and locate my father’s slaves with our horses and litter. The Procurator will be going to his own home from here, so I must go and coordinate our plans before I bid him farewell.”
Though Marcus had warned her, Diana was unprepared for the throng of humanity that choked the streets as she gazed in fascination from her ornate silk litter, with its four sturdy litter bearers in pale yellow livery.
Hundreds of small shops were packed together, their counters jutting out onto the pavement to display what looked like their entire stock. Bakeries, vegetable stands, wine shops, and cheap restaurants vied with pottery stalls and clothing stores. At every crossroad were religious street shrines and fountains where water spouted from an eagle’s beak, the mouth of a calf, or the breasts of a goddess. The overflowing basins carried away the filthy rubbish, thrown out recklessly from the shops and upper windows.
