Pandora - By Anne Rice Page 0,51

to those who left in pairs or trios. I forced smiles and kind words.

I glared at the distant figure of Lucius, who now slouched at the end of the portico in front of doors closed for the night. His very posture was furtive and cowardly.

Quite suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I brushed it off immediately, wishing to lay down limits to such familiarity, and then I realized a man was whispering in my ear:

“The Priest at the Temple begs for you to come back, Madam. He needs to talk with you. He did not mean for you to leave without talking.”

I turned to see a Priest there beside me, in full Egyptian headdress and impeccable white linen and wearing a medallion of the goddess around his neck.

Oh, thank Heaven.

But before I could recover myself or answer, another man had stepped up boldly, heaving forward his ivory leg and foot. Two torchbearers accompanied him. We were embraced by a warm light.

“Does my Mistress wish to talk to this Priest?” he asked.

It was Flavius. He had followed my commands. He was wonderfully dressed as a Roman gentleman in the long tunic and a loose cloak. As a slave, he couldn’t wear a toga. His hair was neat and trimmed and looked as impressive as any free man’s. He was shirting clean and appeared completely confident.

Marcellus, the Philosopher-Teacher, lingered. “Lady Pandora, you are most gracious, and let me assure you that the tavern these boys frequent may give rise to another Aristotle or Plato but it is not a fit place for you.”

“I know that,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

The Teacher looked warily at the Priest and at the handsome Flavius. I slipped my arm about Flavius’s waist. “This is my steward, who will welcome you the night you come to me. Thank you for letting me disrupt your teaching. You’re a kind man.”

The Teacher’s face stiffened. Then he leaned closer. “There’s a man under the portico; don’t look at him now, but you need more slaves to protect you. This city is divided, dangerous.”

“Yes, so you see him too,” I said. “And his glorious toga, the mark of his genteel birth!”

“It’s getting dark,” Flavius said. “I’ll hire more torchbearers now and a litter. Right over there.”

He thanked the Teacher, who reluctantly slipped away.

The Priest. He was still waiting. Flavius gestured for two more torchbearers and they came trotting to join us. We now had a plenitude of light.

I turned to the Priest “I will come to the Temple directly, but I must first talk with that man over there! The man in the shadows?” I pointed quite visibly. I stood in a flood of light. I might as well have been on a stage.

I saw the distant figure cringe and try to fade into the wall.

“Why?” Flavius asked with about as much humility as a Roman Senator. “Something is very wrong about that man. He’s hovering. The Teacher was right.”

“I know,” I answered. I heard the dim, echoing laughter of a woman! Yea gods, I had to stay sane long enough to get home! I looked at Flavius. He had not heard the laughter.

There was one sure way to do this. “You torch-bearers, all of you, come with me,” I said to the four of them. “Flavius, you stand here with the Priest and watch as I greet this man. I know him. Come only if I call.”

“Oh, I don’t like it,” said Flavius.

“Neither do I,” said the Priest. “They want you in the Temple, Madam, and we have many guards to escort you home.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” I said, but I walked straight towards the toga-clad figure, crossing yard after yard of paved squares, the torches flaring around me.

The toga-clad man gave a violent start, with his whole body, and then he took a few steps away from the wall.

I stopped, still out in the square.

He had to come closer. I wasn’t going to move. The four torches gasped and blew in the breeze. Anybody anywhere near could see us. We were the brightest thing in the Forum.

The man approached. He walked slow, then fast. The light struck his face. He was consumed with rage.

“Lucius,” I whispered. “I see you, but I can’t believe what I see.”

“Nor can I,” he said. “What the hell are you doing here?” he said to me.

“What?” I was too baffled to answer.

“Our family is in disgrace in Rome and you’re making a spectacle of yourself in the middle of Antioch! Look at you!