Page 16 of Vesuvius

‘I don’t see your friend,’ he said, once they reached the road. ‘Hopefully that means he can’t see us either. Where to?’

Felix scanned the buildings with tight eyes, orienting himself to their surroundings. For a moment, Loren thought he might make a break for it, but a pair of city guards strode past, and Felix melted closer to Loren’s side.

‘Take me to the Forum,’ Felix said. ‘We can start there.’

The street teemed with Pompeiians running errands in the autumn sun. Loren and Felix stepped into the flow of traffic bustling towards the Forum. Some eyed their veils with suspicion, but Loren paid them no mind. Isis was always being observed. Part of being in a foreign cult, a ragtag group of outcasts, refugees and former slaves, prostitutes and ex-politicos and anyone else who didn’t fit in. Even the fact that men and women interacted so closely raised alarm. They were an unconventional bunch and, in a Roman colony, that was distasteful.

The Forum was as busy as ever. The centre for three temples and Pompeii’s council, it only quieted well after dark. Here, beggars begged, merchants sold trinkets and children chased dogs. Loren revelled in the happy hum.

‘Don’t they remember the earth shaking only hours ago?’ Felix asked, eyes wide.

‘You acclimatise to it. Pompeii presses on.’

‘Mad. All of you.’ Felix pointed across the way, through the series of archways lining the Forum. ‘There’s Apollo.’

‘Right. In the centre is Jupiter, and over there—’

But Felix didn’t wait for a lesson on layout. Peeling from Loren’s side, he made for Apollo’s temple, weaving through the crowd. Lorenstumbled over his feet keeping up, stopping only to shout an apology to a group of children whose marbles game he’d trodden through.

Closer to the temple, the mood took a sharp shift. A tight knot stood clustered outside the entrance. Unusual. Apollo’s following was even smaller than Isis’s, and the city only maintained the temple so as not to offend the sun god. Loren strained to see over the crowd, not realising Felix had stopped until he smacked into him.

‘Jupiter,’ Felix cursed.

Loren quickly realised why.

A man knelt, stripped to his waist, guard leathers piled on the stones beside him. His head was bowed. Air whistled. Leather snapped his bare back. A cry tore from his chest.

A guard’s voice called out a number – ‘Six!’ – and the process repeated.

A handful of councilmen chattered idly nearby, looking bothered at the inconvenience of overseeing the punishment but otherwise unperturbed by the breaking of a man five paces away. Umbrius, head of the council, was not present.

‘Despicable,’ Loren muttered, blood running cold. ‘Only brutes dole punishment with the whip.’

‘Seven!’

Felix’s skin had drained of colour.

‘No one deserves this. I’ll outlaw it when I’m on the council. It’s inhumane. And to do it publicly—’

‘Are you running for office?’ Felix’s question carried an edge, not quite mocking.

Loren’s ears burned. He hadn’t meant to admit it out loud, not to Felix. Everything he’d gathered about Felix so far pointed to little love for rule makers. As a thief, it made sense. But that didn’t stop his tone from stinging.

‘I’m not,’ Loren said. ‘I can’t.’

‘Eight!’

‘Not freeborn?’

‘I am. But . . .’ Explaining meant confessing secrets. His family. His visions. That Loren wasn’t who he claimed to be. Instead, he ignored Felix’s heavy gaze and watched flayed flesh. ‘Can we go? Before I do something foolish, like intervene.’

‘Nine!’ Another crack. The crowd tittered, disgusted and amused by the spectacle.

Felix made Loren wait in the moment a beat longer. Then, ‘Follow me.’

In an alley a few streets up, a pair of old sandals sat abandoned. Felix laughed triumphantly upon discovering them, as if he’d found a pile of coins, and strapped them onto his bloodstained feet.

‘Is that . . .?’ Loren’s question seemed too silly to finish. Still, Felix rolled his eyes.

---