They searched for less than five minutes before Cupido gave a cry of triumph. 'Here,' he said, pointing to the ground at his feet. Rufus ran to see what he had discovered.
Staring up at him, slick with rain, was a heavily bearded halfhuman face, with empty eyes and a slit for a mouth. It was a face meant to frighten; a water god guarding a hidden kingdom. The face was cut into a circular stone drain cover, about two and a half feet across, and the run-off from the paths disappeared into a narrow gap round its edge. They could hear the water falling into some sort of empty space below.
'Here, let me open it.' Cupido pushed Rufus aside. He bent low over the drain cover, but recoiled gagging. 'Jupiter! Even for a sewer this stinks.' He tried to work his fingers below the gap at the rim, but there was not enough room for a proper hold. Undeterred, the gladiator shifted position and reached for the mouth slit.
'There's only room for one hand,' he grunted. 'I can't get enough purchase to move it, never mind lift it. Maybe we can use your sword to lever it up?'
'I think I might have a better answer,' Rufus said, reaching into the cloth bag. 'Move aside.'
Cupido was reluctant to concede defeat. 'If I can't lift it, you won't be able to,' he said sourly.
Rufus grinned at him. 'This is a time for brains, not muscle.' He held up the object he had retrieved from the bag so Cupido could see it. It was the strange T-shaped metal tool Varrus had worn round his neck.
'I thought it might come in useful,' he said, taking over Cupido's position. 'See, the bar at the bottom fits perfectly in the mouth slit, and if I turn it like this…' Using the upper bar of the T as a handle, he rotated the key 90 degrees, so the bottom bar hooked below the stone at both sides. 'Now I should be able to lift it.' He heaved two-handed, using all his strength, and the cover rose until he could move it to one side.
'Ugh.' He choked and took a step back. With the cover out of place the stench from the Cloaca Palatina hit him in the face with almost physical force. He looked at Cupido, and then both stared into the menacing black void at their feet. It was as if they had uncovered the door to the underworld.
For a moment it seemed simpler to walk away.
Cupido sensed his dread. 'Remember, Rufus, when you waited in the room below the Taurus? I saw you struggle with your demons and overcome them. To step into the unknown took true courage and you found that courage within yourself. Whatever is down this hole is less frightening than walking out in front of five thousand of the mob. You can do it. For Aemilia. I am just as fearful, but I would face Hades himself rather than leave her in Chaerea's hands.'
At the mention of Aemilia's name, Rufus felt the empty space within him fill up. Was this courage or simply conviction? It didn't matter. It was enough. He gave Cupido a half-hearted smile.
'All right, but you can go first. You are better prepared to meet Hades than I will ever be.'
Cupido nodded grimly. 'So be it,' he said, and lowered himself into the darkness. Rufus slung the bag across his shoulder and sat on the lip of the hole.
'There are hand and footholds cut into the wall,' Cupido's disembodied voice echoed up from the shaft. 'It's a little awkward to reach the first one, but once you are on it you will be able to lower yourself. Take care, though — the steps are slippery. I don't want you to land on my head.'
Rufus felt with his foot for the first notch. When he found it, he turned and lowered himself over the edge until he felt the second foothold.
His head was at ground level when he remembered the drain cover. He couldn't just leave it where it was. Anyone who discovered it would realize where they were. It was possible their enemies might send a patrol after them. He twisted awkwardly until he could get both hands around the cover. Maybe if he could just perch it on one edge?
He succeeded in moving it almost to where he wanted it, then worked his way down a step. Just another inch would do it. But gravity was working against him and the full weight of the cover was on his arms and he had his back to one wall of the shaft with his feet in one of the notches. It was too heavy! He couldn't hold it. He had moved it too far and if he tried to push it back any longer he would lose his footing and plummet down the shaft on to Cupido. He strained and grunted, but the ache in his shoulders and his arms turned into spears of agony and the drain cover settled into place with a sharp crunch.
'What's happening?' Cupido demanded. 'What was that?'
Rufus put one shoulder to the cover, but it felt as if it was cemented into place. They were trapped.
He made his way down the vertical shaft a foot at a time. In his imagination it was bottomless and it came as a surprise when there were no more notches, but solid ground beneath his feet. He calculated he must have descended twenty-five to thirty feet.
He turned slowly, arms in front of him like a blind man. He knew instinctively he was in a wider space than the claustrophobic drainage shaft, not because he could see anything, but because the darkness was a deeper shade of black. A sort of darker darkness that was almost solid.
Down here it was a different kind of cold; rawer and hungrier, and he was glad Cupido had thought to bring the heavy cloaks. He heard the trickle of water down the shaft, and, close by, a heavier rushing sound.
'Are you going to get the torches out or are we going to stand here all day?'
The words came from six inches in front of his face and he almost fell over in surprise. He fumbled in the cloth bag for the first torch.
'Take this,' he said, holding the torch out in the general direction of the invisible Cupido.
'How can I take it if I can't see it?'
Ah! With his free hand, he located the flint. Ideally, he needed a third hand to strike metal against stone while holding the torch close enough to light, but somehow he managed it. The flame flickered for a second then blossomed until it illuminated a dozen paces around him.
They were standing on a paved walkway beside a dark brown stream composed of things he didn't like to think about, which flowed along a stone culvert perhaps three paces wide. The culvert ran down a tunnel which stretched away into the darkness under a barrel-vaulted roof of dressed stone blocks about a foot wide and three times as long. The roof curved six or seven inches above their heads, slick with hundreds of years of accumulated slime which hung in obscene feetlong tendrils, like wisps of a witch's hair. For a few seconds Rufus's astonishment overcame his fright. How could this marvel, another world, exist beneath his feet and he not realize it?
A shuffling noise from beyond the circle of light reminded him of his earlier fears and his hand flew to his sword.
'Rats,' Cupido said. 'Rats and sewers go together.'
Rufus laughed nervously. He looked around him. 'Which direction do we take?'
'Follow the flow. It's only going one way, to the Cloaca Maxima, and that's where we want to be. Let's go — we have wasted enough time. I want to reach the villa before dawn. Keep the second torch dry, and don't lose the flint. I wouldn't want to be stuck down here in the dark.'
Rufus mouthed a short prayer. He wished Cupido hadn't said that.
They started off down the tunnel, Rufus leading with the torch. At first, he set a good pace, but it quickly became apparent that the section into which they had descended gave a false impression of the Cloaca. The passage was not uniform. It had evidently been built and reconstructed, repaired and repaired again, over different periods, with different standards of workmanship and by men working to different ends.
The air in the tunnel was damp and fetid, rank with the stink of corruption and other people's shit. It became fixed in his throat like a solid thing, and he had to keep swallowing in order not to gag. Soon, the shaft narrowed, becoming ever more claustrophobic, until the walkway was little more than a shelf and they had to inch forward one foot in front of the other to save from falling into the loathsome stream on their right. Rufus noticed it seemed a little swifter now and the height had risen marginally. At least the rain would wash away the filth more quickly.