Doctor Who_ Byzantium! - Keith Topping [66]
James shook his head, sadly. 'My beautiful city shall lie in ruins at the hands of these Jewish extremists.' He paused.
'Do the Pharisees have nothing to say on the matter?'
`Much,' replied Luke. ‘But they are weak and powerless to come up with so much as a contingency plan. Phasaei wanders the streets muttering from the scriptures and becoming an object of ridicule to most while Titus plots and schemes his way further and further up his own anus. He is twisted, that one.
He thinks too much.'
Ànd Hieronymous?' asked Daniel.
'Ah, the ways of love have made Hieronymous blind to the goings-on of Byzantium. He spends his days in his flower garden, skipping and humming to himself like a girl.'
This amused James greatly. 'I dread to think what manner of woman could bring the great Hieronymous to his knees,' he said, `What else?'
`This and that,' replied Luke, aware that the old man in the corner was stirring in his sleep. But it lasted only a moment.
`Nothing of any great consequence,' continued the tax collector. `The Romans have officially blamed the riot in the square on Zealotry. There are some ubiquitous rumours circulating about the way in which they intend to prosecute the crimes. There is a fair-skinned girl living with a family known to me in the Greek quarter who seems to have come from nowhere though I think she is a little young to be a spy.'
`You are always looking for spies, Luke,' Daniel interjected as the snoring from the Doctor intensified.
Ànd I have survived thus far because of it.' Panathaikos replied. 'This apart, life is quiet and as slow as ever. Things will change but only in their own time.’
Chapter Twenty
What Did Your Last Slave Die Of?
If thy hand offend thee, cut it off it is better for thee to enter into life maimed than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not
Mark 9:43-44
The pale and wan light of dawn had barely broken through the clouds of an overcast sky as Vicki slipped silently from her bedding, padded her way, shoeless, across the cold stone floor and, with a melancholy glance over her shoulders, opened the door and fled.
Freedom tasted bitter, frankly. She felt nauseous and afraid.
Without the vaguest clue as to where she was going,Vicki put on her shoes and jogged out of the Greek quarter and down towards the sea walls. Perhaps, she had thought, she could stow away on a fishing boat and find a safe harbour somewhere. But the dawn brought with it heavy clouds and the threat of rain. The fishermen would not be venturing out to sea today.
For some reason, Vicki turned north, heading through the twisting and interlocking streets of the Arab quarter and making for the city walls. Soon, the towering sandstone building gave way to the water meadows of Byzantium's outskirts. It was here that, for the first time, Vicki paused and actually considered the ramifications of what she was doing. Leaving the Georgiadis family behind was the biggest gamble of her life. She was completely alone in a world where she did not belong. More scared now than at any stage since she had first arrived in Byzantium, Yield sat on a cold jagged rock and watched the sun rise across the river in the east.
With a deep sigh she looked down at her feet and wondered how much walking she could do before they were raw and blistered. How far could she get before somebody started to ask questions about who she was and where her family were? She would lie, that was the easy part.
But how long would it be before she met the wrong person? Her encounter with the Roman legionnaire the previous day had