Roma - Saylor Steven (читать книги бесплатно .txt) 📗
The first to die was a girl. Faint from hunger, she fell from a high place and struck her head. The children debated what they should do with her body. It was not Cacus who suggested the unthinkable, but another boy. The rest agreed, and Cacus did as the others did. Was that when he began to become something that was not human, when he first ate human flesh?
Little by little, their wanderings took them to the lower lands to the south and west of the mountains. Here the land offered more game and the rivers more fish, and the plants were more fit to eat. Still, they were hungry.
The next child to die was a boy with an injured foot. When the children came upon a bear and scattered in panic, the boy lagged behind. The bear caught him and mauled him badly, then lumbered off when Cacus came running back, screaming and brandishing a branch. The boy was already dead.
When the children ate that night, it seemed only proper that Cacus should have the largest portion.
Summer passed, and still they found no home. One of the children died after eating a mushroom. Another died after several days of sickness and fever. Despite their hunger, the survivors feared to eat the bodies of those who had died of poison or fever, and so they buried them in shallow graves.
Only Cacus and two others remained. That winter was unusually bitter and cold. Trees shivered naked in the wind. The earth turned as hard as stone. The animals vanished. Even the most skillful hunter would have found it impossible to survive without the desperate solution to which Cacus resorted.
Was that when the change occurred in Cacus—when he decided not to wait for a fall or a bear, or some other chance event? Instead, he did it himself. He did what he had to do, and for the most basic reason: He needed to eat. But he did not act rashly. He did not kill them both at once. First he killed the stronger one, and let the weaker one live a little longer. More than once, that child, his final companion, tried to escape from him. Cacus waited as long as he could, until his hunger was so great that no man could have endured it. He waited because he knew, as soon as the other child was gone, that the only thing worse than hunger would follow: loneliness.
Spring came. Cacus was alone. At night he could not sleep, but lay awake listening to the sounds of the wilderness, entering more and more into a world bereft of human reason.
He continued to wander. Eventually he encountered travelers, and came upon villages, but no humans would have anything to do with him. They feared him, and rightly so; more than once, he stole a child and ate it. When that happened, the humans pursued Cacus. A few times they came close to capturing him, but always Cacus escaped and left the hunters behind, their bones picked clean. Surviving in the wild had taught him cunning and stealth. Physically, no man was his match; Cacus had grown bigger and stronger than any man he had ever seen.
The wheel of the seasons passed again and again. Cacus survived the dry summers and the harsh winters, always alone, always wandering.
One day, he saw a vulture cross the sky. The season was early spring. The green of the earth and the soft warmth of the air stirred in his mind a dim recollection of the beginning of his journey. He set about following the vulture.
Eventually, he found himself on a path beside a river. Around a great bend in the river, he saw ahead of him a region of hills, and beyond one of the hills, a plume of smoke. He lost sight of the vulture, but decided that the path he was following was as good as any other. Paths led to villages; in villages, there was food to be stolen. This time, he told himself, he would stay hidden and go raiding only at night. The longer he could go without being seen, the longer it would be before the villagers ran him off.
Suddenly, Cacus felt a great sadness. Once he had lived in a village himself. The others had sometimes teased and taunted him, but they had accepted him as one of their own, despite the fact that he was so different. Then they had driven him off. Why? Because the earth and the sky themselves demanded it; that was what his mother had told him. Before he left the village, he had never harmed anyone, yet the world and everything in it had become his enemy. The sadness he felt swelled inside him and turned into rage.
He rounded a corner and saw ahead of him a young girl on the path. She was carrying a basket of clothes, heading to the river. Her hair was golden, and around her neck, suspended from a simple strip of leather, was a small amulet made of gold that flashed in the sunlight. The girl saw him and screamed. She dropped her basket and ran away.
Furious, suddenly weeping, he ran after her, shouting his name: “Cacus! Cacus!”
He followed her only a short distance, for up ahead, he saw the first signs of a settlement. Wishing he could disappear, he stepped off the path, into the brush. From the settlement, he could hear the girl still screaming, then the shouts of others as they ran to her side, asking what she had seen.
What had the girl seen, when she looked at him? Not a human like herself, that was certain. And not an animal, either; no animal, except perhaps a snake, inspired such revulsion and fear. It was a monster she saw. Only a monster could wrench such a scream from the girl’s throat.
He had become a monster. When had this happened? It seemed to Cacus that, once upon a time, he had been human….
The settlement by the river started as a trading post. Traffic along the river path, and up and down the route used by the metal traders, had increased to such an extent that there always seemed to be people coming and going through the region of the Seven Hills. It was an enterprising descendent of Po and Lara who hit upon the idea of settling permanently at the crossroads and setting up a marketplace for the exchange of goods. Why should the salt traders transport their salt all the way to the mountains, when they need bring it only as far as the trading post, exchange it there for the goods they wanted, then head back to the mouth of the river for more salt?
A place that had been a crossroads became a destination and, for the handful of settlers at the trading post, a home. By acting as middlemen and providing accommodations for travelers, the settlers thrived.
The settlement of twenty or so huts was located at the foot of a steep cliff, where a broad, flat meadow beside the river offered easy access to the path and provided plenty of space for setting up the market. A seasonal stream, called the Spinon, cut through the meadow and emptied into the river, which men now called the Tiber.
The huts were round with a single large room, made of intertwined twigs and branches daubed with mud, with peaked roofs made of rushes and reeds. For a doorway, sturdy upright poles, in some cases elaborately carved, supported a wooden lintel; a flap of stitched animal skins provided a covering for the doorway. The huts, furnished with simple pallets for sitting or sleeping, were intended strictly for shelter from the elements or for privacy. All cooking and most social activities took place outside.
The marketplace, on the other side of the Spinon and nearer the river, consisted of a few thatched sheds for storing salt, pens for livestock, and an open area where traders could park their wagons and carts and offer their goods for sale. The livestock included oxen, cattle, swine, sheep, and goats. On any given day, the various commodities might include dyed wool, fur rugs, hats made of straw or felt, bags made of leather, clay vessels, woven baskets, combs and clasps made from tortoiseshell or amber, bronze ornaments and buckles, and axes and ploughshares made of iron. There were pine nuts from the mountains, crayfish from the river, succulent frogs from the marshy lake, pots of honey, bowls of cheese, pitchers of fresh milk, and, in season, chestnuts, berries, grapes, apples, and figs. Some of the traders arrived at regular intervals and became old friends to the settlers and to each other, but new faces were always appearing, men from far away who had heard of the trading post and were eager to see for themselves the variety of goods to be found there.
