Vergil in Averno

and then: the horns. Could Rano see either? Rano saw something, for Rano stopped.

“Magnate, Magnate.” Vergil ceased. Why was he so affected? He could hear his pulses beating in his ears, he had been offered bribes before, though not here — was this a bribe? “The Very Rich City of Averno has engaged me to give an answer to a certain problem. The answer to this problem would be the best thing I could do for all of you, and so, for any of you. Details await further discovery, and application requires much work. But every thing which I see, have seen, if not indeed all that I may yet see, either I have presented to all of you of the Magnatery, or, having in the future come to see it, must present to the Magnatery. To all of you. You offer me much gold, and I hope to receive much gold. I have already deserved that. But whatever I may find and see about how best to cap and to pipe and to conduct the fires and heats and fireable gasses, the hot spring waters, from wherever they may be or may come to be, to every magnate’s works. . why. . ser. . Magnate Rano. . there is no way that this, or any of this, could be told to you alone. And not to others.”

If there had been some thought, had there been some thought, very likely there had been some thought in Rano’s mind at first that Vergil was willing to bargain: that Vergil would not accept the first set of iron bangles, knives and hatchets, ruddy cloth, set down upon the sand. But as Vergil went on speaking, he saw that Rano realized this was not the case. Rano had not understood Vergil. Vergil had not understood Rano. “Ah, that. That. No.” His warty, webby hand swept it away behind him. “Some other thing. Some thing, other. Some new. Different, a different thing. A thing, else. You, Wizard, but not one thing only, to see. You will, you will.” He struggled with his wide mouth, his eyes bulged more, he paddled his hands; he looked for help; he looked at the eunuch.

“ — discover — ” the eunuch said.

Not even looking up, nor stopping the scritch-scrotch of his pen (what was the pen writing? — what odd signs?), the moving of the golden coins across the checkered table.

The word was accepted without further examination; Rano swept on, “And this when you discover, you will not tell an, you will tell not others. Only me you will tell, you will tell me. . me. . me …”

Thoughts moved dimly at that moment in Vergil’s mind, but they moved swiftly. It was far from impossible that he might indeed make some discovery aside and apart from the one central thrust of his intent so far. Something not covered by his engagement to the Very Rich City. Something else. In which case — What came to his mind, in which case, was something that almost swept him off his feet; literally, off his feet — almost. For a thought moved him, and as he moved he set a foot forward and the foot somehow stumbled and he stumbled. Rano at once moved forward and reached and took hold of him; they came together in an instant, hand in hand and body against body. Rano’s face moved, too, something glittered in his eyes, his mouth changed, something was moving the outlines of the mouth and reshaping the outlines of the eyes; Rano was about to move mouth closer to ear, and to offer. What, to offer?

The eunuch began to rise. He rose and rose and still he was rising, he was on his feet, hands pushing away from desk as he began to straighten up, and still it was not over. The eunuch was not eunuch-fat, that was mostly myth; the man was eunuch-tall, it was no myth, he was far closer to seven feet tall than to merely six. And as he stretched to his full height he said, in a rich and ringing voice, “The King!” All about, the tambours beat, and Cadmus entered with a train of state. The gaze was steady and the color clear. He was not mad today. He was not mad at all.

The robes and the chains of linked medallions worn by some of those who had come in with Cadmus would have led Vergil at once to assume, had this all been elsewhere, that such men were members of a greater or a lesser Grand Council of some municipium, or leaders of guilds, if not both. But in Averno there was no Grand Council, lesser or greater, there were only the magnates; there were not even any guilds. The power of the magnates covered the ground, and they and it allowed no room for anything else. . not even for the Lousepickers’ Guild as mentioned in the graffito at the tiny tavern in the port town where Vergil had first met Armin. Thought before thinking caused Vergil’s eyes to scan the group: yes. Armin was there. And very grave and dignified he looked, too. And he too wore a robe and chain. . as though holding office, though there was, in Averno, no such office he could hold. And then, Vergil and Rano standing side by side, still, though no longer face to face, Cadmus came close up to them. His clear eyes considered Vergil, but he did not change expression. What he had to say was to be said to another.

“Rano. Magnate. Man Hear Our Royal will. We have consulted. We have advised and been advised. Very soon We intend to speak with Our Liege, the Emperor; meanwhile, thus it is: All born here, and all held to service or labor here for the space of twenty year, are to be citizens of here. The benefits, and all the benefits, of Citizens of Rome, Rano, are to be holden. . here. . by such citizens of Averno. And all those thus worn by labor are to receive bread, Rano, for they are men, Rano. And when you and all your fellow-magnates have assented, Rano. . magnate. . man. . then we shall speak again and further, Rano. Meanwhile, and at once, Rano: Let it be done.”

He turned and he went down the ladder, the steps, and the ramp, and along the long passageway that led to the warehouse’s outer door.

Meanwhile all the trumpets sounded and all the tambours beat.

Rano looked, after some long bemusement, once again at Vergil. Whatever had been in his eyes and in his mouth before was not there. His face moved, though. His mouth moved. His manner showed neither secret confidence nor anger, not even scorn. It did not even show amazement. “You see?” he said. “You hear? You …” Words failed him. One word, next, did not. “Mad,” he said, shaking his head. “Mad, mad, mad, mad, mad …”

Although it might seem that Averno was inhabited chiefly by masters and slaves, with many of the masters themselves once-slaves; as well as a surly rabble depending perhaps less on their daily dole of rather bad bread (with SPQR roughly indented on it just before baking). . and this only if, rabble or not, they were Roman citizens. . than on either employment of a sort small different from outright theft, or on outright theft itself. — Still, in Averno, there were other sorts of people, of the sorts found elsewhere, almost every elsewhere. There were merchants, physicians, astrologers, superior craftsmen who produced detailed work (jewelers, blind or sighted, for example) such as the workshops of Averno’s magnates did not know. If there were no architects, if there were but a few who might be termed engineers in that they worked in such crude engines as the regular work of Averno need must have: presses, stamps, drills, looms, or what; if there were no painters, hardly, not counting those who spread white lime on walls with vast brushes or, often, merely mops; still, still, from the world outside Averno — how! was there still a world outside Averno? more than once, thus, Vergil bethought himself — came some small and unsteady influx of such arts as, principally, aliens denizened in Averno might desire.

So one day, he having chosen to go alone some short way on what proved to be a bootless errand, strolling idly (idle was his stroll, but not his mind) back to his apartments, he heard the familiar sounds of a trio of music sounding the sort of strains which advertise that a troop of traveling players is about to begin its show; to listen was to look, and so, rounding a corner — a process that occupied all his attentions, lest he slip on the stepping- stones and bemire himself in the filth and sludge — at last he lifted his eyes. Flute and lute and cymbals ceased almost at that moment, and prepared to go within whatever rented room was to be their theater. . and where, no doubt, they would also play. . one of them sounding a last call to the “citizens and residents and visitors in the Very Rich City who are very welcome to pay the most modest of prices and enter here to attend at The Great Play of Troy. …” A woman, one of two, cast an eye at him ere she and her companion and the musics, all, turned and went in. He followed.

Such cheap and popular theater, if it did not take too long, often amused him, if (as often) for no other reason than the immense difference between the classical readings from Homer and the bawdy buffoonery, half- improvised at the best, usually interlarded with such popular allusions as had most lately been thrust into the script. Several considerations worked at his mind; one was that his mind might well be the better for some little rest from the restless chores with which he had been so deeply engaged; other considerations? For some reason, and he