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mother's injunction, pointing at a man in a silver helmet. He paused. 'And
beside him, that's the young one. Taras. For the Blues.
He's riding first chariot again.' He quickly looked across at Rustem.
'Scortius isn't here.'
'What?' said a florid, ginger-haired man behind Thenai's, leaning forward,
brushing her. Cleander's mother shifted to one side, avoiding the contact, her
face impassive as she watched the chariots emerge from the wide tunnel to the
left of them. 'You expected him?
No one has any idea where he is, boy.'
Oleander said nothing to that, which was a blessing. The boy didn't entirely
lack sense. Behind the two lead chariots, the others came rolling quickly out
as the performers ahead of them danced and
tumbled down the long straight towards the kathisma at the far end.
It was impossible to make out who was sitting there, but Rustem knew that
Plautus Bonosus was among the elite in that roofed box. The boy had told him
earlier, with an unexpected note of pride, that his father sometimes dropped
the white cloth to start the games if the
Emperor was absent.
The last chariots, riders clad in white and red over their leather, rolled out
of the tunnel. The single horseman and lead dancers were on the far side now,
beyond the monuments, would exit through a second gate over there after
leading the parade past those seats and stands.
'I believe,' said Thenai's Sistina, 'that I require a moment out of the sun.
Are there refreshments of any kind through that gate?' She gestured at the
space through which the horses had come.
'Well, yes,' said Oleander. 'There are all sorts of food stands inside. But
you go back up and then down the stairs to get under. You can't go through the
Procession Gate, there's a guard there.'
'Indeed there is,' said his mother. 'I see him. I imagine he'll let me
through, spare a woman the long walk around.'
'You can't. And you certainly can't just go alone, mother. This is the
Hippodrome.'
'Thank you, Cleander, I appreciate your concern that there might be
... unruly people here.' Her expression was unreadable, but the boy flushed
crimson. 'I have no intention of stepping where all those horses have gone,
and I wouldn't dream of going alone. Doctor, will you be so good ... ?'
More reluctantly than he'd have wanted to admit, Rustem stood up, holding his
walking stick. He might miss the start of this now. 'But of course, my lady,'
he murmured. 'Do you feel unwell?'
'A moment in the shade and something cool to drink will be enough,'
the woman said. 'Cleander, remain here and conduct yourself with dignity. We
will be back, of course.' She rose and moved past Rustem in the aisle to walk
down two more steps and then along the narrow space between the first row of
seats and the barrier to the sands. As she went, she put up her hood, hiding
her face within it.
Rustem followed, stick in hand. No one paid them any attention. He saw people
moving about all over the Hippodrome, taking their places or heading for
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refreshments or the latrines. All eyes were on the noisy procession below.
Stopping a discreet distance behind the
Senator's wife, he saw her address the guard at the low, gated barrier where
the walkway ended, just beside the grand Procession
Gates a few steps below.
The guard's initial expression of brusque indifference melted quite swiftly as
Thenai's said whatever it was she said. He looked quickly around to be sure
there was no one nearby, and then unbarred the low portal at the end of the
walkway and let her through into the covered space beneath the stands. Rustem
followed, pausing to give the man a coin.
It was only when he walked into the vaulted tunnel, watching carefully to
avoid the evidence that horses had just passed, that
Rustem saw a man standing alone in the muted light of this atrium, clad in the
leather of a charioteer, and a blue tunic.
The woman had stopped just inside, was waiting for Rustem. She said quietly,
from within her sheltering hood, 'You were correct, doctor.
It seems your patient, our unexpected houseguest, is here after all.
Do give me a moment with him, will you?'
And without waiting for a reply, she walked towards the man standing alone in
the tunnel. There were two yellow-clad track attendants by the wide, high [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]