Pandora Gets Greedy (7 page)

“You've done it now,” whispered Pandy with a smile.

“Yeah,” Alcie said. “Oogly-boogly. I'm so scared.”

All at once, Pandy saw two figures on top of the Theatre of Pompey: the same two men she'd seen earlier on the roof of the Regia. It was Ares and Mars, she was certain.

“Gods!”

“What?” Alcie asked.

“No … Gods!” Pandy gasped. “Alce … look!”

But Alcie had spotted something else.

“No,
you
look!”

Pandy followed Alcie's finger as she, trying to be inconspicuous, pointed into the crowd. In the middle of the crush of people, Pandy clearly saw Athena. Then she saw a woman standing right next to Athena who looked like she could be Athena's twin. Neither of them wore their helmets nor carried their shields, but Pandy had seen Athena many times; she even carried a small carved bust of the goddess that would offer advice if Pandy got into real trouble. She knew the severe features of Athena's face. That meant the other one had to be …

“Minerva!” Pandy whispered.

“No way!”

“Way,” Pandy said. “
And
, I think that's Ares and Mars on the roof over there.”

“What are
they
doing
here
?” Alcie asked. “Is this good or bad, good or bad?”

“I don't know.”

Suddenly, a blend of melodies and harmonies floated over the crowd, signaling the approach of the Vestal Virgins. Amazingly, the crowd parted, crushing everyone further, allowing the band of women to climb a short set of wooden steps onto a large dais set up in front of the theater. Pandy and Alcie forgot the immortals for a moment as they watched the line of sacred woman, their voices raised in song, moving gracefully up the stairs.

“I don't see Iole,” Pandy said, straining her eyes.

“You don't suppose they left her at the senator's house because she can't sing, do you?”

Before Pandy could answer, Alcie gripped her arm.

“Wait! I think I …,” Alcie said. “I … no … you've got to be kidding. I see her!”

“Where?” Pandy asked, looking intently at the group of Vestals, Junior Class bringing up the rear.

“Second row, third from the left,” Alcie answered.

Pandy stared for a long moment.

“No way!”

“Way!”

“She's … she's got makeup on,” Pandy said. “And her
hair
! She's … beautiful!”

“Our little girl is all grown up,” Alcie said solemnly, then she started giggling.

Suddenly, Pandy gave a start.

“Aphrodite!” she all but squealed.

“Aphrodite's what? What?”

“There.”

Without warning, two other women, nearly identical in every way, had joined on to the very back of the Vestal procession. One woman was singing in time with the others; the second woman, Pandy could tell, didn't really know the words and was a beat behind everyone else.

“Venus and Aphrodite,” Pandy said, remembering every aspect of Aphrodite's face. Aphrodite had held her so close when Pandy had sobbed over Alcie's death, there was no way Pandy would ever forget anything about her.

Then, Aphrodite turned and winked at Pandy. Pandy nearly toppled off the fountain. Aphrodite nudged Venus, who also turned, still singing, and gave a little wave to Pandy and Alcie.

“Wave back,” Pandy said, recovering herself. Alcie just stood slack-jawed. Finally, Pandy picked up Alcie's hand and shook it for her. Then Pandy spotted Apollo and Phoebus buying small spits of meat from a street vendor. Alcie pointed to Demeter and Ceres dancing with two young sailors. Diana and Artemis were standing on the second-story balcony of a building across the square. Dionysus was sleeping on Bacchus, who was leaning against a column.

“They've shrunk themselves to blend in, I think,” Pandy said.

“This isn't good,” Alcie squeaked out.

“No, I think it's very good,” Pandy said. “Why would they all be here, if not to help?”

“To watch us all die horrible deaths?”

Suddenly, a thought hit Pandy like a bolt of lightning.

“Where's Hera … and Juno?”

Before Alcie could even try to come up with an answer, someone was shoved into Lucius, who crashed into his wife, who crashed into someone else, sending a ripple effect throughout the crowd.

“Jupiter,” Lucius said loudly, straightening himself and his wife. “If Caesar doesn't finish the Curio Julia soon, I'll …”

“You will what, noble Lucius?” came a question from close by.

Lucius snapped his head and found himself almost face to face with Julius Caesar, on his way to the dais, who had stopped when he heard Lucius's comment. Lucius realized that he, and everyone else, had been pushed out of the way to make room for Caesar's entourage.

“Please go on,” Caesar said with a smile that wasn't really a smile. “If I don't finish the Curio soon, you will …
what
?”

“I will … continue to serve Rome and its citizens in any and every way possible,” he said. “And from whatever location Caesar decides, be it the Theatrum Pompeium or the Curio Julia, should it ever be completed, or the top of a tree.”

“The top of a tree!” Caesar laughed. “Perhaps that can be arranged, Senator. I should like to see you legislate from amongst the leaves!”

Those closest to Caesar laughed as Lucius fought to keep from turning red with anger and humiliation. Caesar's entourage continued forward until at last Caesar mounted the dais and turned to face the crowd.

“Citizens of Rome!” he began, and from the time it took the sun to move from three to four on the nearest sundial, Caesar saluted the populace, told of the glories that were in the city's future and detailed the far reach of the Roman Empire. He made clear that Rome was and would continue to be, “until the moment Phoebus refuses to pull the sun across the sky,” the greatest city in the known world.

“Athens,” Alcie coughed in disgust, covering her mouth.

Fortunately no one had heard except Pandy, and Pandy dug her fingernails into Alcie's wrist when she saw Alcie was about to say it again. Caesar went on to tell how he was going to urge the Senate to allow the
building of permanent structures for sporting games, chariot races and theatrical productions.

“I envision a Colosseum, a hippodrome, a Circus Maximus. And I believe that you, the people of Rome, will
not
be incited to riot at the sight of the spectacles of skill and daring to be held in these places. We witnessed such a spectacle today …”

At this, he motioned into the crowd and Homer, flanked by two men, walked nervously onto the dais.

“… and you did not tear down the scaffolding at the sight of the mercy shown to this noble youth! I believe, and the Senate will know, that you are above such behavior!”

The crowd cheered loudly. It was Alcie's turn to grip Pandy at the sight of Homer.

“Easy,” she said to Alcie. “Easy, we can't get to him yet.”

Pandy looked about, seeing senators she knew shaking their heads slightly and pursing their lips in subtle disagreement at Caesar's edict.

“I shall also, as one of my first acts, declare that one of our immortals—someone who deserves a higher place in the pantheon of the gods—be given her rightful status!”

The crowd hushed.

“I shall completely redesign, rebuild, and reroute
the sewer system and, at various points, erect temples to one of our most important but often overlooked deities: Cloacina, Goddess of the Sewers!”

At this, the crowd nearly did riot—with joy. Rome had an advanced sewer system, but of late it had fallen into disrepair—which was evident if one took a deep breath.

“I only hope that I live long enough to see the completion of such wonders.”

“Hail Caesar!”

“Long live Caesar!”

“You, the citizens of this great Empire,” he continued, smiling at the adulation, “may well ask how shall we accomplish these undertakings. How, because we are a generous people, shall we spread this great culture—our knowledge, our wisdom, our art, and our perfect government—from land to land? Well, one way is to conquer anyone who might oppose us and claim the land in the name of ROME!”

The crowd went wild.

“For, as I have shown, no one may defeat our armies!”

Again, the crowd cheered madly. Caesar smiled and held out his hands, signaling for quiet. Then he gave another signal and a second young man was escorted onto the dais.

“But then, we must keep it,” he said. “And to that end, I have created …”

As if he were a conjurer, Caesar held his hand up high, his fingers closed tight around something small.

“… this!”

With amazing dexterity, he tossed a shiny object into the air and caught it with only his thumb and forefinger. It was a single gold coin.

“I give you … the aureus. This will be the coin of the realm and will from this day forth always bear the likeness of your ruler. Since the gods above have seen fit to bestow that title upon this humble servant, let us hope it is my profile which graces this simple golden disc for many years to come.”

“Hail Caesar!”

All of a sudden, Pandy saw Lucius Valerius's head stretch a little longer on his neck. He craned his head over the crown, his eyes focused like a hawk's on the coin. He was much,
much
more than merely interested. In that moment, something buried deep within her—something she hadn't experienced or even thought of in many days—began to bubble.

Her curiosity.

Her insatiable curiosity was boiling up and telling her that something was happening. Something she'd seen for a while but had been too distracted to pay any attention to: Lucius Valerius was obsessively concerned with this gold coin. Could it be the source of Greed?
Perhaps even Greed itself? Caesar had been discussing the size, weight, and purity of the aureus for days with his most private counselors in the Senate; Lucius had been one of them, until he violently disagreed on some point or other and had been excused from further conversations in the “inner circle.” She'd been there when, having been dismissed, he'd sat down in disgrace and ordered her to fetch more water. But, her curiosity questioned, why was he the only one possessed? She couldn't remember anyone else being affected to such an extent. Did it have something, anything to do with the Theatre of Pompey? His seat, perhaps? No, no that was silly.

“I wish to acknowledge the artist who has so deftly engraved my Roman nose for all to see,” Caesar said loudly, motioning for the new youth on the dais to step to his side. “His very name means creativity. I give you Varius!”

Varius, a pale young man with hunched shoulders who was obviously unused to such attention, looked like he was going to wither on the spot. Caesar gently moved him away and Varius was returned to the crowd.

“Okay, now
he's
cute!” Alcie whispered.

“What are you talking about?” asked Pandy. “He looked like he was going to faint. He's white as a sheet. Besides, you have Homer!”

“First of all,” Alcie said, turning up her nose, “he's an
artist! And you have to be very … artsy to be an artist, and that includes staying inside a lot. Ergo, no sun. But he's so intense and brooding, I love it! And second, I will never give up Homer. But just because I'm not buying doesn't mean I can't look in the market stalls.”

“I think that's what my mother used to say to my father,” Pandy said.

“The first minting of this coin will happen only a few days from now,” Caesar continued. “As a gift to the people of Rome, I shall give each citizen of the Empire a single aureus. And to my loyal senators, you shall each receive a bag of ten coins at the feast held at the home of Lucius Valerius! Now, let us have music and dancing! Let the celebration continue!”

At once, music filled the air and many people began to dance right in the middle of the square. Others filed off to smaller celebrations around the city, but the space in front of the Theatre of Pompey remained quite crowded as senators grouped together to discuss the day's events and the future of Rome with this new and unpredictable leader.

“Pandora!” Lucius yelled.

Immediately, Pandora and Alcie scrambled off the fountain.

“Master?” Pandy said, approaching quickly.

“Water,” he said roughly.

Pandy put her hand on the pitcher hanging from her waist.

“At once,” she said, then turned to Varinia. “May I take Alcie with me? She can part a crowd better than I can and I'm carrying the pitcher.”

“Very well,” said Varinia.

Weaving their way through the crush of people, Alcie nearly bumped into a fountain of drinking water as she tried to keep up with Pandy, who was doing a wonderful job of parting the crowd.

“Hey, Pandy!” Alcie called. “What's wrong with
this
water?”

“Come on!” Pandy yelled over her shoulder.

Alcie grabbed on to the back of Pandy's toga to keep from losing her and didn't let go until they were behind the dais and standing in front of the main entrance to the Theatre of Pompey.

“Are we gonna find Homer?” Alcie asked, excitedly.

“No,” answered Pandy, walking up to a large guard. “Besides, you know we'd never get to him and he's probably already been taken back to Caesar's residence.”

“Then why are we here?”

“I just want to check something out,” Pandy replied, then she looked at the guard. “Senate business.”

“You're no senator,” snapped the guard with a laugh. “I am the page to Lucius Valerius,” Pandy said,
flashing the seal of the house of Valerius painted on the pitcher. “I enter on his business.”

The guard knew better than to argue and stepped aside.

Pandy and Alcie walked through the main arch and portico. After wending their way through a series of tunnels built into the foundation, they emerged into the open air and Alcie turned to see the enormous, empty amphitheater surrounding her.