more purpose in life, and it made him happier and more confident, so that he became a very different person from the rather down-trodden slave she'd met in Britain.
The winter was short and mild, and it was not long before the spring flowers bloomed in the garden, and the nesting swallows twittered beneath the eaves. During these months life for Karen was not too hard; indeed it was almost happy now that she no longer thought or worried about the twentieth century. Time just went quickly, what with meetings and Kleon and the children, and she was content to let life take its course.
X
THE SUMMER HAD COME, AND IT WAS EXCEPTIONALLY HOT all through June. The Lady Julia wanted a new mural for her bathroom, and she was looking around for a suitable artist to do it.
It was a long time since Karen had done any painting, but she could feel the urge coming on. At home she was always having crazes for things, drawing or reading or making objects, and now secretly she very much wanted to be allowed to do that bathroom wall. Finally she plucked up courage and went to see Julia after breakfast.
'Excuse me asking, madam,' she said- Julia liked them to call her 'madam' - 'have you found anyone to do that wall yet?'
Julia looked puzzled. 'No,' she said. 'Nobody whose work I really like. Why?'
'Well, I was thinking that I- I might be able to do it myself ...'
Julia raised her eyebrows. 'Really?' she said, 'Well, well. You didn't tell me you were artistically gifted.'
Karen didn't know what to reply to this. She hoped that Julia would at least let her try. 'I think I could do it,' she said. 'Couldn’t I just have a go? I could always paint it over if you didn't like it.'
Julia debated. It would be so much easier if this girl did the job. Artists' fees were quite ridiculous. Karen might as well make an attempt at the decoration.
'Very well,' she said. 'You can start today. I'll give you some
money for the painting implements. Here you are- you can get them in the craftsmen's quarter. And take Lucilla with you. She's been bothering me all morning.'
Lucilla skipped along by Karen's side.
'Are you really going to paint mother's bathroom? What are you going to do it with? Fishes?'
'No- Heaven forbid! Blue horses.'
'Blue what?'
'Blue horses. You heard me. Galloping around the walls. It'll be nice.'
Privately Karen had worked this out days ago. It was a special idea she'd had which needed giving rein to. The background would be pale blue, and the horses cobalt, with dark, whiskery manes.
Down among the shops it was difficult to know where to go, but Lucilla knew how to find the craftsmen's quarter, and they were soon there.
The paints were all colours, made from all sorts of ingredients, too. Some were made from coloured rocks, finely powdered, some were root dyes, and some were made from flowers. They varied greatly in price, according to the ingredients, but the blues were not very expensive. They were sold in little pots, and the shop also had brushes of animal hairs.
Karen could have spent all day looking around, but she hadn't got all day, and turned back. Once at the house, she went first to the kitchen to get a lump of charcoal from the fire. She needed this for drawing in the basic design.
She then proceeded to the bathroom, and surveyed the walls. The room was not very large, and rectangular. The walls had a border about two-thirds of the way up; above this they were plain white, and below the plaster was greyish. Fortunately the floor tiles were grey-blue; the colour-scheme Karen had in mind would go very well.
She didn't bother planning it out to the last detail beforehand. She had always heard it said that she should, but that was such a bother, and she was not one for bothering with trivial things that seemed to her unnecessary.
She smiled to herself. Four walls just for her to decorate! For a moment she was filled with the delicious anticipation of a three-year-old who has long wanted to draw on the wall and is about to realize the dream with a packet of wax crayons. Oh, it would be a beautiful frieze!
'Three horses on the long walls, and two on the end ones,' she said aloud. 'Right, let's get started.'
She used the thin end of the charcoal, at first drawing hesitantly with light strokes, but she soon found that the knowledge came back to her and continued firmly and surely. The first horse took shape, with a small tapering head and slim bounding legs. His round neck was arched in a beautiful curve, and his bushy tail streamed out behind.
The second horse's head was up, and his legs stretched out as he leapt forward, and the third had all his weight on one back leg, with the hoofs ready to pound down into the turf- only there wasn't any turf.
They were not like real horses, but much more attractive. They were fairy steeds, galloping on air, and Karen was sure the Lady Julia would like them. They had such nice eyes. Horses' eyes were a lovely shape.
It was very difficult to think of ten different positions to draw, so one or two had to be repeated with modifications. Finally she felt ready to paint. The background needed a lot of colour; she had bought several jars of light blue, and these she mixed with yellow, making an interesting pale greeny-blue.
She began on the background, which was all to be the same colour, and there was a nice big brush to do it with. She used it with large, criss-crossing strokes, going carefully around each horse. It took her until dinner-time to fill in the background of one wall, but the colour glowed and she was well pleased with herself.
'Phew!' said Rhoda over the salad. 'You stink of oil.' What have you been up to?'
'Painting the Lady Julia's bathroom,' Karen said. She had to repeat it before they would believe her.
In the afternoon the Lady Julia wandered up to see how the frieze was going. She inspected the wall languidly; Karen had just painted the horses in, and their tails were fine as silk.
Julia's face never showed much expression, except when she raised her eyebrows, but now she looked definitely surprised and admiring. She stared critically, and Karen waited anxiously, having some last-minute doubts as to whether Julia would feel the same way as herself about horses in her bathroom.
Finally her fears were allayed, for Julia said, 'I like it, I must admit that I do. It's very good. Where did you learn to draw?'
'I taught myself,' said Karen. 'I've always liked horses.' Privately she breathed a sigh of relief.
'Hmm. When will it be finished?'
'Oh, I can have it done in three days, and then it will have to dry.'
The horses' coats gleamed with the fresh paint, and their eyes stared
Perhaps they knew that the rest of their frieze would never be finished.
Nobody really knew where the fire started. Some said among the warehouses along the river; some said in the tenements; but wherever it began, the fact remained that the City Cohorts were unable to stop it. Every few hours there was news of its having spread farther, and the occupants of the house on the Viminal Hill waited anxiously.
‘Nobody really knew where the fire started’
During the daytime, clouds of thick brown smoke rose slowly over the city, and at night the glare of the flames silhouetted the crumbling houses. By the third day it looked to Karen as if it was really getting a hold, and she wondered how soon they would stop it. The only thing that conceivably could was rain, and the clear polished sky was completely devoid of clouds, rain or otherwise. She was becoming really worried; she remembered reading about the great fire that destroyed Rome in some year A.D., and this must be it. It was odd to be living two thousand years back in history that she had already read about, but right now her main worry was what would become of her.
Hadn't the fire nearly destroyed the city completely?
And Nero- he'd built a beautiful new palace or something, and the mob had accused him of starting the fire- whether justly or unjustly was never discovered. Anyway, since he had not cared to be accused of starting the conflagration, he had looked for a scapegoat ...and
found the Christians!
The thought struck Karen hard. The Christians! That was her and Kleon. They would have to get out before the persecutions. Quickly she planned it. The next meeting was tomorrow. She must tell them then that she suspected the Christians would be blamed… but what if they wouldn't listen? They must see the sense of it, she thought, they must.
She got Kleon and Rhoda into the little laundry-room that evening and told them her fears, without telling them about the twentieth century. Kleon looked grave.
'Yes,' he said. 'They might well accuse us. But I'd rather not leave Rome unless we have to, because if we're caught you know the penalties. And my brand's all too obvious.'
'We could say you'd been freed. Anyway, you surely don't think we'll be the only ones going away? There'll be hundreds of people, slave and free, leaving the city. We just join the baggage train. And while we're still here we must be careful. They're saying already that Nero's done it, and he won't let the blame rest on himself. It'll not be long before he turns it on us.'
'All right,' said Rhoda. 'We leave. Agreed.'
None of the three slept that night, and not only because of the stench of burning blown through the house by the wind.
It was not difficult to slip away in the morning, because the house was in a turmoil. Lucius had finally agreed to leave while the going was good- and everyone was packing feverishly. Zenocrates had managed to hire a couple of waggons pulled by sturdy dray-horses, and clothes and food