Chapters (76)
Cornelius said, ‘These acrostics are a Christian game, are they not? Like this one on the wall.’ He pointed to a cryptogram carefully painted in a corner of the Christ portrait:
ROTAS
OPERA
TENET
AREPO
SATOR
Thalius said, ‘The fresco painter added it.’
Cornelius bent to see. ‘Very clever. Reads the same up and down, forward and back. But so what? The sower Arepo guides the wheels carefully . What is this, some reference to a holy life? Oh, I do hate word puzzles!’
‘Perhaps, but there is more in it than that,’ Aurelia said. She unfolded herself from her couch, dipped a delicate fingertip in the black of an extinguished candle, knelt down by the acrostic, and with her blackened finger wrote lightly on the wall. ‘Do you mind, Thalius? I am sure it will brush off. You see, you can rearrange the letters in the form of a cross, like this.’
Cornelius studied the result. ‘A cross for Christ - eh? And it reads Our Father both ways.’
‘The first words of the Lord’s Prayer,’ Thalius said.
Cornelius frowned. ‘But you haven’t used all the letters.’ He compared the cross to the original acrostic, and dabbed his own blackened fingers to pair up the letters in each.
Thalius groaned, ‘My housekeeper will disembowel me for this mess!’
Cornelius sat back. ‘You made a mistake, Aurelia! You have two As and two Os left over.’
‘There’s no mistake,’ Aurelia said. ‘It’s yet another layer of meaning, Cornelius, at least for a Christian. A and O, or Alpha and Omega: this symbolises the “beginning and the end” in the Christian revelation ...’ Her eyes defocused. ‘Oh.’
Thalius took her arm, mildly alarmed. ‘Madam, are you all right?’
‘No. Yes! I think I have it.’
‘Have what?’
‘The key to your slave’s puzzle, Thalius - and perhaps the key to all our destinies.’ She stood up. ‘You must take me to the boy - now!’
X
X
Thalius led the way to the kitchen, where Tarcho was looking after the boy. He was greeted at the door by the warm smell of cooking bread. Inside, Tarcho was pounding vegetables with a mortar and pestle. Audax, standing close by, watched, fascinated. On a whim, Thalius paused, and his guests waited behind him, curious.
Thalius heard Audax say to Tarcho, ‘You didn’t squash beets when you were a soldier.’ He was proving a fast learner, but his Latin was still rudimentary, uncertain, his accent strong, his abused throat gravelly.
‘Oh, I did, and more. Soldiers do everything for themselves.’
‘Soldiers fight.’
‘Well, not all the time! And in between fighting we do other things. We build forts and lay roads and build bridges.’
‘And squash beets.’
‘We squash beets and lay roads.’
‘Do you work in mines?’
‘Sometimes.’
Audax pulled a face. ‘Why would you work in a mine?’
‘Well, you have to, if you’re ordered to.’
‘A soldier is like a slave, then. You have to do what you’re told.’