'That sounds like many of the Jews that I know,' interjected an irritated Calaphilus.

Gemellus laughed, and nodded his approval to the general, who seemed to take the compliment in the spirit in which it was intended.'This Jesus,' continued Gemellus,'gathered around him a sizeable group of fanatical followers from amongst the fishermen and farming communities along the sh.o.r.es of Lake Galilee. They were a kind of personal bodyguard and set about spreading his teachings. Delivering his gospel, that is, "good news", in the form of simple parables, most of which had a nice moral twist at the end. He was good. Very good.' Very good.'

'Not so good that he could avoid ending his days nailed to a stauros,' stauros,' said Calaphilus, chuckling to himself. said Calaphilus, chuckling to himself.

'Ah, I see that you are aware of his story?' Gemellus asked.

Thalius Maximus was merely intrigued. 'What happened to this messiah?' he asked.

'The Jewish religious authorities of the area grew suspicious of this man and of his teachings,' noted Gemellus.

'He became a threat to their authority. They questioned him repeatedly on obscure aspects of the law of Moses, but he was a clever man and always had an answer for them, chapter and verse from their holy texts. Eventually, however, he was betrayed by one of his inner circle of followers to the Pharisee, who had the procurator of the region, Pontius Pilate, arrest the man as a heretic.'

'Pontius Pilate,' said Calaphilus wistfully. 'Now there there was an official one could so easily respect.' was an official one could so easily respect.'

Thalius gave Gemellus an unimpressed smile. 'He was an acquaintance of my father,' he said. 'A man of somewhat limited intellect and many disturbing ways. So, this messiah messiah was executed, yes?' was executed, yes?'

'Crucified near to Jerusalem, in the twenty-first year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar. But it is what happened next that is even more interesting. Just about all of the ancient prophecies about the messiah from the Torah, pertaining to his betrayal and his death, did seem to come true. After his internment, his body vanished. It was probably taken away by his followers, but a macabre rumour was circulated thereafter that he had actually been raised from his grave by the Jewish G.o.d. Resurrection, Resurrection, they called it.' they called it.'

'These Christians believe that their saviour is a ghost?'

asked Thalius, incredulously. 'What a pathetic bunch of ignorant peasants, to base a religion on such a superst.i.tion.'

'There is a little more substance to the cult than simply that, praefectus,' praefectus,' noted Gemellus. 'It is said that this Jesus performed many miracles. Raised a number of people from the dead and often healed the lame and the wretched. Could turn water into wine and base metal into gold, that kind of thing. Most of it is errant nonsense, of course, as our n.o.ble general rightly points out. But there are a lot of witnesses to some of these alleged events.' noted Gemellus. 'It is said that this Jesus performed many miracles. Raised a number of people from the dead and often healed the lame and the wretched. Could turn water into wine and base metal into gold, that kind of thing. Most of it is errant nonsense, of course, as our n.o.ble general rightly points out. But there are a lot of witnesses to some of these alleged events.'

'Mere conjuring tricks,' Calaphilus noted. 'Friends of mine were within Palestine, where all of this furore was happening.

They told me that this character was nothing more than a charlatan peddling his mumbo-jumbo to the ma.s.ses. No man with common sense in his brain believes a word of this Christos.' Christos.'

'Perhaps,' said Gemellus. 'But as for the Christians themselves, essentially they seem to be relatively harmless.

Their creed dictates pa.s.sive resistance to that which they do not regard as the word of their G.o.d and, otherwise, non-aggression. And, at least, they pay their taxes. In both of these regards, they are infinitely preferable to such as the Zealots.'

By now Calaphilus was outraged that he had been kept waiting whilst such trivialities were discussed. 'If I may make a brief observation,' he said loudly, 'I learned long ago, in Britannia, that pandering to the beliefs of indigenous savages is as sure a way as any to the path of ultimate destruction.'

He paused, aware that he was on the verge of ranting, and drew in a deep breath. 'Perhaps the praefectus praefectus would like to hear another children's story. A senator with whom I was acquainted had a wife who could not get what she wanted from him. So she slept with a sergeant of the praetorian guard and became the talk of all Rome. That is a story with much more would like to hear another children's story. A senator with whom I was acquainted had a wife who could not get what she wanted from him. So she slept with a sergeant of the praetorian guard and became the talk of all Rome. That is a story with much more relevance relevance to the to the praefectus, praefectus, I would have said.' I would have said.'

The implied threat to Maximus was brutally clear.'I know of this story,' replied the praefectus. 'Both praefectus. 'Both the man and his woman were beheaded and spent their days on the end of spikes on the city walls. I believe our business is concluded, general.' the man and his woman were beheaded and spent their days on the end of spikes on the city walls. I believe our business is concluded, general.'

'So it would seem,' replied Calaphilus turning on his heels and marching noisily out of the peristyle.

Oh dear,' noted Gemellus. Calaphilus had clearly been referring to the problem of Maximus's own former wife. 'A number of events occurred whilst you have been away, which you should perhaps be made aware of.' he told his friend.

Elsewhere within the city, in a slightly smaller (but equally opulent) home, Antonia Vinicius was in the process of discussing her former husband, and his hatred of the military, with an interested friend.

'Sometimes I so envy your life, Agrinella,' she told Marcus Lanilla's wife, as the pair of women lay on stone tables having their backs ma.s.saged by their respective handmaidens. 'I often wish I I had but one man to think of all the time.' had but one man to think of all the time.'

'Really?' asked Agrinella, astonished.

'No,' replied Antonia. I am afraid to say that I lied.'

The women laughed, a long and bawdy chuckle that culminated with the pair raising themselves from the tables, wrapping their clothing around themselves and simultaneously dismissing their handmaidens. When they were alone, Agrinella came and sat beside Antonia, looking at the slender neck and shoulders of the woman peeking out from the loose-fitting palla. palla. Antonia was beautiful, Agrinella decided. Far, far too beautiful for the overweight and long-past-his-prime Thalius whom she had divorced less than a year ago. Antonia was beautiful, Agrinella decided. Far, far too beautiful for the overweight and long-past-his-prime Thalius whom she had divorced less than a year ago.

Maximus's former wife was now remarried to a usually absent local senator, Germanicus. Not that the long and frequent periods when the master was not about his house seemed to have dulled Antonia's insatiable appet.i.te for the company of men. Any men. A hugely promiscuous woman even when she was married to the praefrctus, praefrctus, Antonia was, even now, boasting about her latest dalliance. Antonia was, even now, boasting about her latest dalliance.

'Centurion Castus Pilaigus is a handsome man, do you not think so?'

Oh Antonia,' said a shocked Agrinella, 'you haven't?'

Antonia nodded, like a dog eager to please its owner. 'Five times. He rode me like he would ride to the moon and back in a flying chariot'

antonia, you are so wicked,' Agrinella giggled like a schoolgirl as her friend dismissed the adventure with a shrug of the shoulders.

I was starved of true affection for so long. A woman has many and certain needs. Speaking of which, have you seen that new slave whom Germanicus picked up in Egypt? The black one?'

Though it was difficult, Agrinella ignored the question and turned her attention to the real reason for her visit, as if the prospect of sharing s.e.xual secrets was not cause enough.

'Antonia,' she said quickly. 'What can you tell me about any history between Maximus and that vulgarian general Gaius Calaphilus?'

If Antonia was surprised by the question she was asked then she did not show it. 'Byzantium is not, and shall ne'er be, a s.p.a.ce enough to hold both these men,' she noted.

Chapter Seven.

Cephalic Symbol

What therefore G.o.d bath joined together; let not man put asunder. let not man put asunder.

Mark 10:9

I still don't fully understand how we're able to converse with everyone so fluently. I don't speak Latin, and I've only got a very basic smattering of Greek,' Barbara noted. 'I took it at school, but I used to get my diphthongs mixed up with my past participles...'

This was something that had bothered Ian on several occasions too but, as so often on their travels, the Doctor had casually dismissed such trivialities with a neo-gobbledygook explanation that left neither of his companions any the wiser.

'I was taught Latin,' replied Ian with a half-remembered look of horror on his face. 'Now that that was all Greek to me! My teacher was called Mr Dumbie, I remember, which was a name positively crying out for a bit of was all Greek to me! My teacher was called Mr Dumbie, I remember, which was a name positively crying out for a bit of Boys Own Boys Own innuendo. It's funny the daft things that stick in your mind about school, isn't it? My form tutor was a man named Quibbs and there was a Jewish lad in my cla.s.s called Goldfinkle. I picked on him mercilessly.' innuendo. It's funny the daft things that stick in your mind about school, isn't it? My form tutor was a man named Quibbs and there was a Jewish lad in my cla.s.s called Goldfinkle. I picked on him mercilessly.'

'Bad boy,' Barbara said, wagging a finger at him 'I was thirteen, what can I say? I was discovering all sorts of things. Irony, sarcasm, the fact that the world didn't revolve around rugby... Hormones: now that was shocking, the day I woke up and found the world had girls in it. With b.r.e.a.s.t.s and everything...'

Barbara Wright tried hard not to laugh. Which only made things worse.

I can still remember a few phrases,' Ian continued. 'Mainly disgusting. Foetorum extremae latrinae Foetorum extremae latrinae was a good one.' was a good one.'

'What does that mean?' asked Barbara.

'"You stink like the worst toilet".'

Barbara looked disgusted. anything more useful?'

'Paella meretrix,' Ian replied. '"Nymphomaniac wh.o.r.e",' he informed Barbara before she could ask. 'And Ian replied. '"Nymphomaniac wh.o.r.e",' he informed Barbara before she could ask. 'And deformis deformis a.n.u.sque oblatratrix a.n.u.sque oblatratrix means "ugly old bag who can't keep her trap shut". Came in handy quite a few times, that one. Now there's a funny thing. How come when I just spoke Latin to you, it sounded Latin, but when someone else speaks in Latin to us, we understand it like it was English? And how about the fact that whatever it is that translates all of this for us uses words and phrases that are anachronistic to this time?' means "ugly old bag who can't keep her trap shut". Came in handy quite a few times, that one. Now there's a funny thing. How come when I just spoke Latin to you, it sounded Latin, but when someone else speaks in Latin to us, we understand it like it was English? And how about the fact that whatever it is that translates all of this for us uses words and phrases that are anachronistic to this time?'

Barbara shrugged. 'One of life's great mysteries, I suppose,' she said.

Several days had pa.s.sed and the Doctor and his companions had spent their time living close to the market-place in the centre of Byzantium in rented accommodation.

They had enjoyed themselves greatly, observing the plethora of different races and cultures within the city, while posing as a travelling family from Britannia. However, all good things must come to an end and the time was fast approaching for them to leave.

I'll be sorry to go,' Ian said. Barbara nodded in agreement.

She picked up a clay ornament that she had bought in the market the day before. It was a simple, homemade representation of a Greek woman carrying water. Just think,'

Barbara noted, f I buried this where it wouldn't be found and then came back in two thousand years and dug it up, I'd be rich.'

'Not to mention, of course, home,' home,' Ian added, helpfully. Ian added, helpfully.

'What is it, anyway?'

'A Greek urn,' replied Barbara. 'And if you say, "What's a Greek earn? Ten drachmas a week", I'll give you such a thumping...' she threatened.

'Wouldn't dream of it,' replied Ian with a broad grin.

'Besides, everybody seems to get paid in Roman currency.

Quadrans and and dupondius dupondius and and denarit. denarit. I've only seen a couple of Greek and Jewish coins since we've been here. And none of them look anything like half-a-crown, or a threepenny piece.' I've only seen a couple of Greek and Jewish coins since we've been here. And none of them look anything like half-a-crown, or a threepenny piece.'

'This place is so magical,' Barbara continued, changing the subject away from the often upsetting thoughts of London and 1963. 'Just seeing everyday life for these people, the practical, ordinary things that you'd never find in any history book. That's always the true revelation for me.' She paused and looked out of the window of their first-storey room to the sun rising above of the dome of the synagogue. On the roof was a single figure, stark and silhouetted against the shimmering early morning light. The man was chanting in Hebrew, calling his people to prayer.

'How can you not be affected by something like that?'

Barbara asked, pointing to the man 'Isn't it amazing?'

'He's certainly got a good head for heights!' noted Ian sarcastically.

At breakfast they ate the last of their food and talked excitedly about where they might end up next. It had been a happy and relaxing week; a stimulating experience for Barbara and, much to her own surprise, for Vicki, and a nice, quiet holiday for Ian. As for the Doctor... well, who knew?

However, today, even he was ready to admit that he was glad that they had come to Byzantium, though his reply to a question from Barbara about whether they should announce their departure to the several people whom they had come to know locally during their time in the city was a firm negative.

'Goodbyes will not be necessary,' he noted, bringing the subject to a close. 'They get in the way of just.... going.

Chesterton and myself shall buy some food while you can take young Vicki to visit that temple to Jupiter for one last look.'

'Sounds like a plan,' noted Ian, standing hurriedly and tripping over his own feet.

Oh, do stop larking about like a child, Chesterton,' the Doctor groaned.

'Don't I get any say in where we go?' asked Vicki, before cracking into a broad smile. 'Only joking. I'd love to have another look at that temple.' She found herself looking at three scowling faces. 'What?'

Barbara pointedly ignored her. 'Highlight of the visit?' she asked the Doctor.

There was a long pause. 'Discovering,' replied the Doctor at last, 'that things are never quite as bad as you expect them to be.'

Ian and the Doctor walked the short distance to the market to buy bread for the journey back to the TARDIS which, they expected, would take them most of the day. The fresh and crisp early morning was beginning to give way to the sultry and oppressive heat of the day as the Doctor again confessed that his misgivings about the Romans and their ways had largely proved unfounded. Ian was amused that the Doctor could actually admit to being wrong.

I have been wrong before, my boy,' the Doctor said, wounded by his companion finding humour in his shortcomings. 'Not often, it's true, but occasionally... It is not a sin to admit that you have made a mistake.'

'No, indeed,' Ian replied, trying to hide the smirk on his face. 'It's just that it is something you so rarely see. From you.'

They arrived at the bread stall in the already-bustling market. The stall was a rough wooden bench covered in thick muslin cloth and protected from the searing heat by a canopy of reeds. The Greek owner, Nikos, greeted them with a friendly smile, commented on the weather, and asked them about their plans for today.

He was a small and delicately boned man with a handsome, if puffy, face and a nervous and hesitant laugh which he seemed to lapse into at the end of everything he said.

Ian liked him enormously, probably because he reminded the schoolteacher of a man he had once met who sold second-hand jewellery on the Portobello Road. He was a Greek as well, Ian remembered.

'We have a long journey ahead of us,' Ian said, casting a quick glance at the Doctor who merely blinked his eyes like a cat sitting contentedly in the sun.

'Travel is the greatest thing in the world,' Nikos added, handing four flat pitta bread pieces to Ian. 'It makes a wise man of the fool. And a great man of the wise man. That will be three obols, obols, or half of one or half of one drachma, drachma, or one or one sestertius, sestertius, or one half or one half shekel, shekel, or a knife to my throat if you prefer. For I am just a poor and humble shopkeeper...' He shrugged his shoulders in mock-surrender as Ian fumbled in the pocket of his tunic and brought out a battered and dirty silver Roman coin, a or a knife to my throat if you prefer. For I am just a poor and humble shopkeeper...' He shrugged his shoulders in mock-surrender as Ian fumbled in the pocket of his tunic and brought out a battered and dirty silver Roman coin, a sestertius, sestertius, that he had found on the roadside two days earlier. that he had found on the roadside two days earlier.