Roman Flames

Chapter Six: Reading

Chapter Six: Reading

Sanctius

“I can’t keep going out on the streets to do errands, at least not for a while,” I told Decimus later that night. He frowned at me, fiddling with his hands.

“Why?”

“I’m terrified that I’ll get caught again,” I replied. Decimus, Antonia, and I took turns travelling an hour to run our errands, such as buying supplies and other necessities. We never went all together. If we were caught and interrogated, at least it would be only one of us and not all.

Decimus sighed. “I suppose that’s fine; I can take your turns.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I had a close call today.” Decimus swallowed and nodded.

“Then it’s fine. But—”

I held my hand up. “I know, I know. I’ll take your shifts, don’t worry.”

He pursed his lips, frowning. “And tell my mother before she thinks I’m making you do all the work. I know you and Maria left the other day to go swimming while I picked up your shift.”

“I’d been up since dawn working, Decimus,” I said. “I think I deserved a break.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled. “Whatever, Sanctius,” he chuckled. By the look he gave me, he thought there was something between Maria and me. He rolled on his bed and crossed his legs up on the wall so his face was upside down staring at me.

“You don’t really think Maria and I…”

Decimus shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, by the longing looks she gives you…by your eagerness to spend time with her…the way she bites her lip when she sees you…the way you always come back with rosy cheeks and a half-smile on your face…not at all.”

I gave him a look. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm,” I stated. “I’ve enough to worry about without romance. You know she’s just my friend.”

“Of course,” he agreed, still bordering on sarcasm. I wasn’t going to win.

“Go to bed, Decimus,” I groaned, falling back in my own bed.

“Yes, great idea. I have to go into town anyways tomorrow to pick up what you couldn’t buy,” he said, slightly accusatory.

“I was afraid,” I said quietly, turning my back to him. He cleared his throat, knowing he’d crossed a line.

“Sorry, brother,” he apologized. “That was harsh of me.”

“Good night, Decimus,” I said.

“Good night.”

In my dream, I was walking by myself to the secret spring. The sky was red, as if it were in flames, and I knew what Nero had been doing.

Burning the Christian minority of Rome. As he liked to do.

I frowned and kept going to the spring, where I knew I could be by myself in peace and avoid the slaughter.

“They won’t escape,” Nero’s voice echoed through the sky, and I flinched. I breathed hard, holding back the emotion that threatened to break. The innocents, I thought. I wanted to fight back, but that would only get me killed. I’d fought enough in my lifetime.

When I reached the spring, I gasped. The girl was there, the patrician. She was sitting on the opposite bank, with a dress that reminded me of some statues of Minerva I’d seen, and her feet in the water. She was staring at me knowingly, as if waiting for me to react. However, the most terrifying thing was that there was a colossal wooden cross behind her. I couldn’t tell if it was waiting for her…or me. I cleared my throat and stood straight.