Praetorian guard appeared out of the darkness.
‘Make way!’ shouted the Optio in charge, and led the squad through the gathered throng to the gates of the Forum. Within minutes he had organised the civilians into a human chain from the nearest working faucet in the next square. Bucket after bucket of water was thrown on the nearest flames until they managed to get access to the courtyard.
‘First five contubernia,’ shouted the Optio, ‘Get into the Temple and find Dragus, the rest of us, let’s get this fucking fire out!’ Fifty men ran into the courtyard and they spread out to find their Centurion. Twenty minutes later the Optio kicked aside the smouldering remains of the wooden gates and led the rest of the Century into the compound to join their comrades. He spotted one of the Decurions and called him over for an update.
‘Any news?'
‘No, sir,’ came the answer. ‘There’s a body of some old crone in the inner Temple but apart from that, nothing.’
‘Impossible,’ said the Optio. ‘He has to be here somewhere. Check again.’
‘Yes sir,’ said the Decurion and turned to continue the search.
The sound of confusion came from behind him and an armed guard came through the gates, along with a Tribune, an officer from the palace.
‘What are you doing?’ he barked.
‘Putting the fire out, sir,’ answered the Optio, springing to attention.
‘On who’s orders?’
‘Nobody, sir, but Centurion Dragus is in here somewhere. We are trying to find him as we speak.’
‘Forget him,’ said the tribune. ‘Gather your men and return to the barracks.’
‘But sir…’
‘But nothing, just do as I say.’ He turned to his own squad. ‘You men, retrieve the treasures and take them to Nero’s quarters. He will look after them until the Temple can be restored.’ He turned back to the Optio.
‘You’ve had your orders, soldier. What are you waiting for?’
‘Nothing sir,’ said the Optio and turned to gather his men.
Dragus moved his cape from over his face and took a much needed breath. He moved his cramped position and kicked open the door of the store cupboard. Outside, in the slave quarters, the smoke had cleared though still stank of the fire.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘They’ve gone.’ He crawled out and stood up to stretch his legs. He had been in the tiny wine store for several hours, holding Rubria in his arms as they waited to either be burnt to death or choke on the stinking smoke. At one point he had covered their heads with his cape and prayed to Vesta when it had seemed impossible they were going to survive.
Rubria stayed where she was, her head held in her hands.
‘Why didn’t you call them?’ she asked quietly, referring to the soldiers they had heard in the room, hours earlier.
‘You know why,’ he said
‘Do I?’
‘If what you say is true, and I have no reason to disbelieve you, you would have been taken straight back into the custody of Nero. After that there would have been only one outcome.’
She looked up
‘Don’t you think I knew that before I came here?’ she asked. ‘I was well aware that I was signing my own death warrant but was willing to pay the price. I have done what I came to do. The treasures are safe, and the Sisters are all alive.’ She stopped suddenly and looked down in grief. ‘Well, most of them.’
‘You did what you could, Rubria,’ said Dragus.
‘It was not enough,’ she answered.
‘No matter,’ said Dragus, looking around the room. ‘What is this place?’
‘Servant’s quarters for the Pontifex Maximus.’
‘Is there a clothing store?’
‘I think so,’ she said, ‘Why?’
‘You are getting out of here.’
‘But there is nowhere to go.’
‘I will think of something,’ he said. ‘I am not going to stand back watch that maniac bury you alive.’
‘You are wasting your time,’ said Rubria, ‘I have spent most of my life in Vesta’s service. I wouldn’t last five minutes out on the streets.’
‘I know,’ he said, ‘That’s why I am coming with you.’
‘You, but you can’t,’ she said, ‘You are a Centurion in the Praetorian Guard. That would be desertion. You would be executed.’
‘It’s too late for that,’ he said, the die is cast. Whatever happens, our fates are sealed if we stay here, but first things first, we need to change our clothes.’
‘Why?’
‘How far do you think we would get like this?’ he asked.
Rubria looked at her filthy robes and then at his grubby armour.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said, ‘But there will only be slave tunics down here.’
‘Perfect,’ he said, ‘Come on, we have to get moving before they return.’
‘What about this,’ she asked, turning her gaze to the Palladium standing in the corner of the cupboard.
‘Leave it,’ he said. ‘The fire seems to be out, your task is complete.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘The Temple is a ruin and there is no sign of the sisters. If we leave it here who knows what will become of it? We have to take it with us.’
‘Rubria, it will be hard enough to stay alive, If we take this with us it will be impossible.’
‘I don’t care,’ she said, ‘I am not leaving it here for some passing thief. Either it comes with us or I stay here to make sure it reaches the hands of the Sisters.’
Dragus stared at Rubria for an age before realising she was deadly serious. Finally he picked up the Palladium and wrapped it in his cape.
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘Have it your way, but can we get a move on? They could be back at any time.’
Rubria stood up and searched the store cupboards before finally returning with a couple of greying togas.
‘Best I can do,’ she said and they turned their backs to each other to get changed.
Finally they stood before each other, both dressed as servants. Dragus threw their old clothes in the wine store and shut the door.
‘May buy us some time,’ he said, ‘Now, how do we get out of here?’
‘Can’t we just walk out?’ she asked.
‘Can’t risk it,’ he said, ‘There may still be soldiers out there. It doesn’t matter how we are dressed, they won’t be expecting anyone to be walking out of here.’
‘No, I mean through the servant’s door,’ she said.
‘There’s another entrance?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ she said, ‘It’s not common knowledge but how do you think the servants carry the supplies in? We couldn’t have them soiling the Forum with their dirty feet now, could we?’ she asked ironically.
‘Right,’ he said, picking up his sword from the floor, ‘Let’s go.’ He placed the palladium under his other arm and followed Rubria out of the slave’s quarters and into dark streets of Rome.
The madness of the night continued as they slipped unnoticed into the crowds. Groups of citizens ran this way and that, panicking as they tried to save what precious few possessions they may have from the unrelenting flames. Soldiers joined peasants and freemen stood alongside slaves as human chains passed leather buckets from hand to hand. They barged their way through the throng, trying to find a way out of the confusion, but everywhere they went seemed to be affected by the fires sweeping across the eternal city. A soldier appeared out of the smoke, leading a group of slaves to some unknown destination. He grabbed Dragus by the arm.
‘You two,’ he ordered, ‘Come with me.’
