Empire's End

sleep as the lawyers droned on. Their thick British accents mangled their speeches until it was hard even to understand what was being said. Judgements were passed and lives destroyed, and Geta yawned his way through it all. One man put his head in his hands, as the judge ordered him to sell himself into slavery to clear his debt. His family sat with blank, hopeless faces. Others were sentenced to work in the mines, for theft, and went away roaring their innocence, although the evidence had sounded conclusive enough to me. Just behind Geta sat Julia Domna. Occasionally she leaned forwards and asked an intelligent question that made the pompous lawyers sit up, startled to realise this woman was the one in real control. Then some complicated case came up, and the Empress stood up to speak privately with the officials. The conversation went on and on, and the sky outside seemed an odd colour, yellowish. Somehow, I could not rid myself from the feeling that Theodora needed me.

Just at that moment, I spotted a flash of colour by the door. My eyes widened. It was a snake. It wriggled fast across the threshold, its scales glittering, almost glowing in the dull light. For a shocked second I believed it was the snake from the Empress’ face-cream pot, somehow come to life and slithering away. It had the same diamond-shaped mark on its head. Then it was gone – slipping into a black crack in the wall, vanishing like a melting snowflake.

Everyone knew that snakes were spirits, and more than spirits – visitors from the gods. I felt throughout my body that this was a sign. I stood up and, excusing myself as unwell, I snatched my cloak and went to the door. I had to get out.

As I stepped out of the basilica, something bit me. I looked up, and found myself showered in blossom – but freezing blossom. Snow! I gasped. I had seen snow before, but I never got used to how beautiful it was. I gazed in amazement at the sparkling jewels that clung to my sleeve.

“You should see it on the hills outside the city,” remarked a voice.

I looked up. It was Arcturus.

“Is it even more beautiful there?” I asked.

“Yes, because no one treads it to slush. Here in the city it will be brown, dirty water by sunset, but out where my farm is. . . the hills glow in the moonlight like silver.”

“I’d love to see that,” I said, and meant it.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

“No, but I had the feeling. . .” I shook my head. “I felt somehow that Theodora needed me.” I explained about the snake. He understood at once and he frowned.

“Shall I take you to Theodora? Would that set your mind at rest?”

I hesitated.

“Oh, don’t worry about going with me unescorted,” he added. “People see you as a doctor now, not as a young lady – they are not surprised by it.”

He meant to reassure me, and he did, but I also felt my heart sink. I had been suspecting something like this had happened to me, to the way people saw me. In Leptis Magna, I had been a child. In Rome, I had been a valuable object, a bride to be decorated richly and looked after carefully. I never left my parents’ house without an escort. But here, in Britain, I was not so important any more. I could come and go like any poor woman who worked for their living. I did not think my father would be pleased with the change when he came back from the North.

“I should stay here,” I said shortly. “The Empress needs me.”

It was not until the next day that I was able to go to Theodora’s house, and by that time the feeling of panic had gone. I could not even be sure if I had dreamed the snake. After all, a snake in winter? In the city? No, I decided, it was just my imagination.

Yet, as I arrived at the house, I saw a dead cat on the rubbish heap by the door. It was a dirty white cat with one ginger ear; I had seen it skulking around a few times before. Snow was swiftly covering it. I do not know why this struck me – dead animals were hardly a rare sight in the area. But perhaps I was in the mood to see signs from the gods. I did not spend much time looking at it then, but later on, I did remember it – and the sign from the gods.

18.

A Dream from the Gods

That night, I dreamed of home.

In the dream, I was in the theatre in Leptis Magna. I had never actually been there, but my father had described it to me, so I knew what I was seeing. I was sitting on the topmost tier of seats, looking down at an empty stage.

The theatre was enormous, like Olympus. I felt dizzy. The marble columns on the stage were taller than the tallest trees I had ever seen, taller than pines or palms. Through them I glimpsed a line of rich blue sea behind the pillars, flecked with white-topped waves. I was perched so high that I could see the roundness of the world.

On each side of the stage stood huge statues of the Diascuri, the holy twin gods. Enormous, cast in shining bronze, they looked like real giants with tanned, sweaty skin. Their eyes were picked out in white glass and they gleamed as if they were alive. I realised that they were watching us, the audience. Except there was no audience – there was only me. Strangely, this did not disturb me, or at least, only deep in the back of my head, as if someone far away from me was shouting a warning. I knew why I was there; I was there to see a story.

My father said that dreams were very important. If someone came