A roar of protest went up from the crowd, but they did not move to intervene; the threat of the auxiliaries held them back.
‘You can’t arrest me,’ Paulus shrieked, ‘I have a warrant.’
Vespasian pushed his pugio into Paulus’ skin, drawing blood. ‘Then you had better tear it up because if I can’t arrest you my dagger might just slip.’ He pulled his blade across Paulus’ flesh, slicing it.
Paulus cried out in pain, squirming unsuccessfully to release himself. He took the scroll and slowly ripped it down the middle, then across and dropped the pieces. ‘You are as arrogant as your brother whom I had the misfortune to meet in Judaea,’ he declared contemptuously.
‘Your opinion means nothing to me, you’re irrelevant now.’
‘I am a man of great potential, quaestor, held back by the petty ambitions of people like you; I will be very relevant to you one day, I assure you.’
Vespasian shoved Paulus into the arms of the waiting auxiliaries. ‘Take him down to the port and have him put aboard the next ship heading for Judaea.’
Paulus glared at him with loathing and spat at his feet.
Vespasian turned his back on him and addressed the crowd. ‘Your leader has torn up his authority and is on his way back to Judaea. All those who throw down their weapons now will live; those who don’t will die. Those already in custody will be sent to the Governor for trial with the recommendation of death and I will not negotiate on that point. My soldiers stand ready; what’s it to be?’
Almost instantaneously the rioters started throwing their weapons to the ground.
‘Prefect, round them up and put them all to work dousing the fires and clearing up the damage; if anyone refuses they can join the prisoners being sent to Creta. And bring the woman and her children to me at the Governor’s Residence, and Yosef as well.’
‘How can I thank you, quaestor?’ Yeshua’s woman sobbed with relief as Quintillius showed her and Yosef into Vespasian’s study. She fell to her knees and kissed his feet; her two children stood shyly behind her next to Yosef.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked, bending down from his chair and lifting her chin.
‘Mariam, quaestor.’
‘Well, Mariam, what would you have me do with you?’
‘Allow me to take my children to safety.’
‘To Gaul?’
‘To Carthage first then in the spring I’ll make the crossing to Gaul.’
‘Why Gaul?’
‘There are very few Jews there, I won’t be recognised.’
‘Why do the Jewish priests want you dead?’
‘I can answer that, quaestor,’ Yosef offered. ‘On the third day after Yeshua died she and some of his disciples went to his tomb in order to take his body back to Galilee; they found it empty.’
‘Someone else took the body?’
‘We don’t know. Caiaphas the High Priest wanted it buried in an unmarked grave so perhaps the Temple Guards took it secretly after we had placed it in the tomb. They were waiting for it but your brother gave it to me. But perhaps he still lives. There have been a number of people who claim to have seen and spoken with him; some say that he has gone into the East.’
‘But that’s ridiculous, the man was crucified; even if he did survive somehow he would be a cripple.’
‘I know.’ Yosef spread his hands, hunching his shoulders. ‘But nevertheless his body wasn’t in the tomb and he has been seen. Perhaps he didn’t die, perhaps he was resurrected as those who have seen him claim, or perhaps it’s just someone impersonating him. It doesn’t matter, the priests are hunting down everyone who can bear witness to the empty tomb or to Yeshua still being alive.’
‘Believe whatever nonsense you like.’ Vespasian’s mind started to turn to thoughts of Flavia. ‘You are both free to go but how and where is up to you; your ship turned back eastwards a couple of days ago according to the port aedile’s records.’
‘God will provide,’ Mariam said as she got to her feet.
‘I am again in your debt; God be with you, quaestor,’ Yosef said, walking towards the door.
‘I prefer to have more than one god looking after me.’
Quintillius opened the door and let them out.
‘Quaestor,’ the clerk said once they were alone, ‘we found the house where Flavia Domitilla was staying.’
‘Excellent. Did she accept the invitation to dinner?’
‘She wasn’t there.’
‘Then go and wait until she comes back.’
‘I’m afraid that would prove fruitless. The landlord told us that the day after the fighting started Flavia Domitilla boarded a Judaean trading ship heading east.’
PART II
CHAPTER VIII
‘What in the name of Mars are they doing?’ Vespasian asked Magnus in alarm as a group of seemingly demented women came rushing towards them, across the Forum Boarium, beating themselves with branches.
‘Nothing in Mars’ name, sir,’ Magnus replied, restraining Ziri who had dropped the hand-cart containing their belongings and Capella’s chest in order to defend them from the oncoming screaming women. ‘They’re slaves and they do that in Juno’s name. It’s the Caprotinia; all the female slaves in the city get the day off and run around hitting themselves with fig-tree branches.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘No one’s really quite sure.’ Magnus helped a very confused Ziri pick up the hand-cart as the women rushed past. ‘I’ve heard that it was something to do with a woman prisoner in the Gallic camp during their invasion of Italia. She gave a signal from a fig tree for our lads to storm out of the city and take the hairy buggers by surprise. Anyway, who gives a fuck why they do it, the important thing is that they do and it’s always a great night; by the time they’ve finished running about beating themselves they’re extremely excited and very amenable, if you take my meaning?’
‘I’m sure I do,’ Vespasian said, wondering if Caenis was out whipping herself up into a frenzy and found himself quite interested by the idea.
Another band of women, some of them baring their breasts, came howling into the Forum, scattering passers-by who laughed good-naturedly at their antics.
Magnus licked his lips appreciatively. ‘We’re back just in time; not only do we get very enthusiastic, half-naked women, but we also get a nice few days at the circus to recover from any excesses that we might have indulged in, as the Caprotinia falls during the eight days of the Apollo Games. I love July.’
‘I can imagine,’ Vespasian agreed, unhappy to be reminded that it was already over halfway through the year and he was only now arriving back in Rome.
His disappointment at the disappearance of Flavia Domitilla had been compounded by his enforced extended stay in Cyrenaica; he had then been obliged to wait until June for his replacement, a sour-faced young man, who had evidently felt the posting far beneath him and had shown little desire to arrive promptly in the province. Once he had eventually been relieved, unseasonal gales had delayed his return for another two frustrating market intervals.
Apart from a longing to see Caenis again and to forget about Flavia in her arms, his main reason for wanting to get back to Rome as soon as possible had been to hand over Capella’s chest — minus the gold and the bankers’ draft — to Antonia. Narcissus would soon become concerned enough by its non-arrival to instigate an investigation, which would in all likelihood lead to Vespasian, and he did not like the idea of being waylaid and relieved of his newfound wealth by hired thugs in the pay of Claudius’ ambitious freedman.
Passing out of the Forum Boarium with the huge facade of the Circus Maximus to their right they turned left onto Vicus Tuscus, heading to the Forum Romanum. Ziri’s face, already slack-jawed with amazement since entering the city, became a picture of disbelief as he looked up at the monumental House of Augustus with its high marble walls, dominating the summit of the Palatine.