I pushed into the crowd. Davus helped clear the way. At last we came to the steps of the temple, where a black funeral bier lay upon a familiar green-canopied litter. A group of priests were just stepping out of the temple. Their white robes whipped in the wind. Wavering streamers and vortices of smoke rose from their bowls of smoldering incense. Flanked by the priests, a tall figure in green emerged from the temple. His face was hidden behind a green veil, so that from head to toe he was covered in green, like a chrysalis. I tried to step toward him, but a cordon of soldiers barred the way.
I called out his name. Hieronymus turned his head in my direction. He whispered to one of the priests, who frowned but nevertheless approached the soldiers and told them to let me through. I rushed up the steps.
'Hieronymus!' I tried to keep my voice low. 'What is this? What's happening?'
'Isn't it obvious?'
'Hieronymus, I can't see your face. That veil-'
'The scapegoat wears a veil on his final day. The gods are watching. The sight of the scapegoat's accursed face could only offend them.'
I lowered my voice to a hoarse whisper. 'Hieronymus, you mustn't go through with this! If you can postpone the ceremony for only a little while-Caesar is on his way. It may be only hours-minutes-'
'Postpone the ceremony? But why?'
'There's no need for it. The siege is all but over. Your death will change nothing. You can't possibly save the city.'
'Not from conquest; but perhaps the city may yet be saved from utter destruction. Who knows what Caesar intends? The sacrifice of the scapegoat may tip the scales and cause Caesar to be merciful.'
'Caesar will as do he pleases, no matter what happens to you!'
'Shhh! Don't tell the priests that, or the people of Massilia! For months they've pampered and pleasured me, preparing me to take on all their sins at once. Now they want to see the ceremony carried through to the end.'
'But, Hieronymus-'
'Quiet, Gordianus! I'm at peace. Last night Apollonides called me to his private chambers. He told me everything.'
'Everything?'
He nodded. 'I know that your son Meto is alive. I'm happy for you, Gordianus! Apollonides also confessed to me that it was his father who ruined my father. I had long suspected as much. And… he told me about Cydimache. My father jumped from the Sacrifice Rock. Apollonides's daughter was pushed. His line has come to an end. The shades of my parents are appeased.'
'And you, Hieronymus?'
'Me?' The wind pressed the veil against his face so that I clearly saw his expression-his lips slightly pursed, one eyebrow sardonically raised. 'I'm a Massilian, Gordianus, and above all else, a Massilian respects a contract. When I became the scapegoat, I entered into an agreement with the priests of Artemis and the people of Massilia. I did so with my eyes open. They honored their side of the contract. Now it's my turn. My obligation is to willingly face my sacrifice. Not all scapegoats do so in the end; some have to be drugged, or bound, or even knocked unconscious. Not me! I shall stand tall and meet my destiny proudly.'
My voice caught in my throat. I tried to think of words to persuade him, of something I could do to stop the farce. He laid his hand on my forearm and seized it with a powerful grip. 'Gordianus, I know that you don't take this ceremony seriously, that you don't believe it actually works.'
'Do you?'
'Perhaps. Perhaps not. My personal belief hardly matters. But it may be that a scapegoat can take on the sins of others and can carry them with him to oblivion, allowing those who survive to start afresh. Since I first met you, Gordianus, I've sensed that you carry a burden of guilt. Some wickedness-some crime you committed-perhaps in trying to save that beloved son of yours? Am I right?'
I made no answer.
'Never mind. I absolve you!' He suddenly released my arm. 'There. Whatever burden of sin you may carry has gone out of you and come into me. Do you know, I believe I actually felt something. Truly!'
There was such a thickness in my throat that I could hardly speak. 'Hieronymus…'
'Now go, Gordianus. This is my moment!'
Two priests of Artemis grabbed my arms, pulled me down the steps, and thrust me back into the crowd beyond the line of soldiers. I looked on helplessly as Hieronymus mounted wooden steps up to the litter and reclined upon the funeral bier, shutting his eyes and crossing his arms as if he were a corpse. The crowd around me surged and wailed. Some screamed curses at the scapegoat. Others shouted blessings. They began to throw objects at the funeral bier, and I started in alarm; but the objects were not rocks and stones but dried flowers and bits of crumpled parchment with names written on them. The priests of Artemis took the green litter onto their shoulders and began to carry it through the street, protected by the cordon of soldiers. Before them and behind them, a retinue of priests clapped hands, chanted, and wafted incense. Shreds of smoke, dried flower petals, and scraps of parchment blew this way and that.
Davus and I followed the procession for a while. We stopped at a point where the street descended sharply and a small clearing on a crest afforded a view of the Sacrifice Rock. In the strange, false twilight that precedes a rainstorm, we watched the procession wind down the hill, gathering more and more spectators. The roar of the crowd, with its mingled curses and blessings, rang out and echoed though the city.
The procession came to a halt at the foot of the Sacrifice Rock. Ringed by the cordon of soldiers, Hieronymus stepped from the funeral bier and began, alone, to climb the rock. The crowd cried out and pelted him with dried flowers and bits of parchment.
More priests awaited him at the summit of the rock, where a green canopy had been pitched. The crowded priests leaned into the stiff wind. Those holding the poles of the canopy were sorely pressed to prevent it from blowing away altogether. Their white robes and the green flaps of the canopy snapped and fluttered. Standing among the priests was Apollonides, his mane of silver hair tossed by the wind and his light blue cape wrapped tightly around him.
Beyond the rock and the wall, mottled patches of shadow and sunlight played across the sea. The wind whipped the green waves into foaming whitecaps.
Hieronymus took his time. He climbed slowly, methodically, almost as if he were savoring the event. Or was he beginning to have second thoughts?
At last he reached the summit. Hieronymus in his green robes stood out, but there was such a crowd of priests beneath the canopy that I had trouble seeing clearly. Tears obscured my vision.
Atop the Sacrifice Rock there was more chanting and a great deal more incense. The capricious wind seemed to play with the smoke, and instead of dispersing it, caused it to whirl about the summit, enveloping the canopy. Priests coughed and waved their hands. They could hardly be expected to control the wind-but surely the scuffle I saw was not a part of the ceremony…
'Davus, I can't see clearly. Tears in my eyes-from the wind. Is Hieronymus-is he struggling against them?'
Davus squinted. 'He must be! They've all surrounded him-restraining him-pitching back and forth. He's putting up quite a fight. And now-Apollonides-!'
Davus had no need to finish. Blinking away tears, my jaw agape, I saw the final moment clearly. Or did I?
Like Cydimache, Hieronymus must have changed his mind at the last moment. How else to explain the fact that the priests suddenly swarmed around him, restraining him? It was Apollonides who stepped decisively forward and seized the struggling green chrysalis in a fierce embrace. The two of them spun about and rocked back and forth. The priests scrambled back. Apollonides's silver mane whipped in the wind. His cape billowed and wrapped itself around them, until the two figures seemed to meld into a single, writhing creature shrouded in pale blue and chrysalis green.
Together, they staggered toward the precipice. I held my breath. For a brief moment they seemed to be frozen on the very edge of the rock. An instant later, still locked together, they vanished.
Davus gasped. 'Apollonides! Hieronymus took Apollonides with him!'
I shook my head, stunned. 'Or was it Apollonides who jumped and took Hieronymus along with him?'
