Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [192]
He had not known what to make of this, but soon afterwards, though the lamb had gone, he heard its voice. And again it said: ‘Feed my sheep’. And he had woken.
“Then later, that same night, I had a second dream. This time I was looking at Venta. It was definitely Venta: I saw the walls, the column to Marcus Aurelius and the gates. The sun was shining on the roofs, and it seemed to me that my old professor was still there, in the city, and that I had only just come from seeing him. As I looked back at the town, a great light from the heavens seemed to descend on the place, so that all the tops of the buildings gleamed and sparkled, as though they were made not of tiles and stone, but of silver and gold. And then I heard a voice. I could not tell where it came from, whether it came from inside my own head or from the clouds: but the voice spoke so that there could be no mistaking it, and it said: ‘My city is a heavenly city, not made of bricks, but of the spirit. And my city is eternal. Turn back from worldly cares, Petrus, and walk boldly to the city of God’. Then, for the second time I awoke. The dawn was breaking. And I knew what I must do.”
It was an impressive vision, and he was proud of it.
But when Petrus hurried to tell Martinus about it early that morning the monk’s reaction was rather disappointing.
“If you truly wish to serve God,” he said, “you must learn self-discipline. I advise you to go to one of the monasteries in Gaul. Study there for several years: it will teach your unruly spirit to submit to God. Then you may become a missionary.”
Petrus thanked him politely. But he took little notice of the advice. The vision, it seemed to him, had been definitive. He had never experienced such a thing before: and now that God had spoken to him so directly, whole vistas opened up in his mind in which he could see himself in a set of new and heroic roles.
It was late afternoon the next day that Tarquinus saw Petrus riding towards him along the track that led to the big curve of the river. As he stared at the young landowner, the cowherd’s cunning old eyes grew wide with astonishment.
Petrus was riding his horse at a walk, and he was followed by half a dozen estate workers. But what caused the old man to stare was his appearance.
For Petrus’s head was bare, and the entire crown had been shaved completely bald.
Stranger still, as Tarquinus opened his mouth to greet him, the young man stared at him as if he were a monster, and then turned his face away. What could it mean? Confused, Tarquinus waited a little, then followed the party towards the curve in the river.
If he was surprised before, it was nothing compared to his amazement at what he saw next.
Petrus knew what he must do. And he was methodical.
When he reached the clearing where the taurobolium pit was concealed, he quickly ordered the men to pull back the planks and break up the wooden grid that covered it.
“Burn the wood, and fill in the pit,” he ordered them. “See that it’s finished tonight.”
When Tarquinus, who had heard his orders, hobbled into the clearing to protest, he gave the old man a withering look and cried:
“Your iniquity is destroyed, servant of Satan!”
Then, before the cowherd could reply, he turned his horse’s head briskly and rode towards the valley.
Darkness was falling when he arrived at the villa where he was eagerly awaited. A farmhand had told Numincus an hour before that Petrus had been seen, and the steward had hurried to the villa to ensure that preparations were made. A dozen welcoming torches now burned near the doorway and even Constantius had roused himself to stand with his wife and the steward to greet his son.
“Let us hope,” he said, “that he has found a rich bride.”
As Petrus dismounted, all three came out; to his surprise, Constantius felt his arm gripped, and found himself embraced by Petrus with an affection that he had not known in years.
It was only when the party moved inside that