Empire - Saylor Steven (читать полные книги онлайн бесплатно TXT) 📗

The small-headed creature pressed himself against Domitian’s leg and covered his face.

Catullus smirked. “Is it true, magician, that in your youth you took a vow of silence and did not speak for five years?”

“That is so. Silence is a language unto itself. There is much to be learned by not speaking.”

“Yet it seems that ever since then, you can’t keep your mouth shut. You may regret not keeping silent today, magician. The words you spoke just now lead nicely to the second charge against you: that you have profaned against the gods and imperiled the state by preaching against the institution of animal sacrifice. Do you deny this charge?”

Catullus signaled to Epaphroditus, who touched a switch on the water clock. Water gurgled as it flowed from one chamber to another and the lever that indicated the passage of time began to move.

Apollonius cleared his throat. “Have I said that animal sacrifice is unnecessary? Yes. Have I offended the gods and imperilled the state by doing so? No. To show fitting respect to the Divine Singularity we must offer no victim at all, nor kindle a fire, nor burn incense, nor make promises, nor offer up any sort of trinket or amulet or any other material object. For if there is a god, who is higher than all else and of such perfection that he is unique and distinguished from every other essence, then what use does this god have of our paltry offerings? Far from giving him nourishment, such material offerings can only pollute his purity. And how dare we attempt to bargain with the Divine Singularity by making promises and pleading? We should approach the Divine Singularity using only our highest faculty, which is our intelligence. By thought alone should we strive to make ourselves known to the Divine Singularity, which itself is pure thought. If we desire to make these thoughts manifest for the benefit of other mortals, then we may employ beautiful speech, which is the imperfect servant of thought. A song or an uttered prayer shared among mortals may be pleasing to the Divine Singularity, but bloody carcasses and charred remains can only be offensive to that which is perfection.”

The lever on the water clock reached its upright position, which caused a bell to be struck. The gurgling of water ceased. Apollonius smiled serenely. He had said what he had to say in exactly the allotted time.

Catullus made a face of disgust. “Do I need to state the next charge, Dominus? The accused has already sufficiently incriminated himself. To offer him more opportunities to speak will only subject your majesty to more blasphemy and sedition.”

Domitian, who had been watching the proceedings in silence, stared at Apollonius with a quizzical tilt of his head. “That this man is guilty and worthy of death, there can be no doubt. But surely the third charge against him is the most serious. It should be addressed.”

Catullus stated the next charge. “It is alleged that Apollonius of Tyana practises magic. Witnesses attest that he has had healed sick persons by the use of magical influence, and has even caused the dead to return to life, against the laws of nature. He has used magic to witness faraway events and otherwise obtain knowledge of the movements of others, including even yourself, Dominus. He has used magical powers to look into the minds of others, so that even when they remain silent, his victims cannot conceal their thoughts from him. These uses of magic, which in and of themselves violate the laws of men and gods, also constitute a clear danger to the state and to the person of Caesar. What do you say to the charge, Apollonius of Tyana?”

Again, Epaphroditus touched a switch on the water clock. Its gurgling echoed loudly in the suddenly silent room, for everyone present was intent on hearing what Apollonius had to say.

Apollonius turned to Lucius. His lips did not move, yet Lucius heard him speak. “Do you have the thing Epaphroditus gave you earlier? Give it to me now.”

Lucius was puzzled. Nothing in the room had changed and yet everything suddenly seemed unreal, as if he had entered a dream without falling asleep. What was Apollonius talking about? Epaphroditus had given him nothing earlier. And yet, he found himself reaching into his tunic and pulling out a small sphere made of glass. He handed it to Apollonius.

Again without moving his lips, Apollonius spoke to him. “You are a good friend, Lucius Pinarius. I will miss you. Be strong.”

Apollonius raised the glass sphere and threw it against the floor. There was a blinding flash of light and a loud blast. A cloud of smoke enveloped Apollonius. There was a loud clatter, as of shackles falling to the floor. A peculiar smell filled Lucius’s nostrils. The floor seemed to ripple, as if shaken by an earthquake. Lucius thought that he alone felt these things, but when he looked at the spectators he saw that they, too, were reeling, as if from a blow. Some of them dropped to their knees. Lucius turned and saw that Domitian had risen from his chair. His small-headed companion was clutching the emperor’s leg.

The blind Catullus turned his head this way and that. “What’s happening?” he cried. “What has the magician done?”

The smoke dispersed. Apollonius was nowhere to be seen. His empty shackles lay on the marble floor.

“What trickery is this?” said Domitian. He ordered the guards to search every corner of the room and make sure that every exit was blocked. Apollonius was not to be found.

Domitian glared at Lucius. “The magician looked at you before he vanished. What happened?”

“I don’t know, Dominus.”

“Where has he gone?”

“I don’t know, Dominus.”

“Strip this man!” cried Domitian. Lucius’s tunic was torn from him. “What is that?” said Domitian.

“What is it you see, Dominus?” asked Catullus.

“He wears a talisman of some sort.”

Catullus raised his eyebrows. “How did this happen, Epaphroditus? You were to make sure the prisoners had no magical devices on their persons.”

“I’m as baffled as you,” said Epaphroditus.

Domitian stepped from the dais and approached Lucius. Lucius flinched but stood firm. The emperor reached out and took hold of the fascinum. “What is this? Did this amulet play some part in the magician’s disappearance?”

“It’s a fascinum, Dominus. A family heirloom. I call on it for protection, but I know of no other powers it might possess.”

Domitian frowned. “It looks like a cross.”

Catullus scurried to them, tapping his staff on the floor before him. “A cross, Dominus?” Domitian put the fascinum into the hand of Catullus, who examined it with his fingertips. Lucius cringed at having the man so close to him. Catullus cringed, as well. He released the fascinum with a show of disgust.

“Most certainly this is a magical amulet. I can feel the sorcery in it! Christian magic, I suspect.”

“Christian?” said Domitian.

“They use amulets in the shape of a cross to bewitch their enemies.”

“It’s a fascinum, Dominus, not a crucifix,” said Lucius.

“He lies,” said Catullus. “When I was preparing my dossier on this man, I discovered that his uncle was a Christian, one of those punished by Nero for arson. Can it be a coincidence that he wears a Christian amulet?”

Domitian peered down his nose at Lucius. “This man is follower of Apollonius, and whatever else he might be, Apollonius is not a Christian.”

“We cannot expect the enemies of the gods to be consistent in their blasphemy. This secret Christian has just assisted in the escape of a most dangerous magician, and by means of this amulet he may intend to endanger your divine person. Lucius Pinarius has conspired against you, Dominus. He must be punished.”

Domitian narrowed his eyes. “Yes, but how?”

“His uncle was burned alive in the Circus Vaticanus.”

Lucius felt a sudden prickling sensation all over his body and saw oily spots before his eyes. He tried to emulate the courage of Apollonius, but he swayed and fell to the floor.