Dream Master

‘What’s going on?’ said Lauren, sitting up slowly. ‘Was that an explosion? Where is this place?’

‘Dreaming,’ said Cy firmly. ‘You – are – dreaming.’ He waved his fingers back and forth in front of Lauren’s eyes in the way he had once seen a hypnotist on television do. ‘Close – your – eyes. Go – to – sleep.’

‘Stop that.’ Lauren pushed Cy away and stood up. ‘Obviously if I am dreaming then I must be sleeping and I can’t fall asleep again, can I?’ She looked up and down the hot empty street. ‘If this is a dream then it’s pretty boring, and it’s even hotter here than in the real world, so I think I’ll just wake up, thanks very much.’

‘Fine,’ said Cy. ‘Great. Super.’ He reached for his piece of dreamsilk. ‘Just give me two seconds,’ he muttered, ‘to gather my mind together and focus us back where we came from.’

‘Who is this?’ said a voice behind Cy.

Cy turned and saw Rhea Silvia standing in the doorway of a nearby house. ‘My sister,’ he gulped.

‘Ahh, your sister,’ said Rhea Silvia softly. ‘That is where you have been. How kind you are. I will explain to my mother that you ran off to find your sister. It is very thoughtful of you to do this.’

‘Thoughtful!’ said Lauren. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone call Cy thoughtful.’

‘Why, yes, I think he is,’ said Rhea Silvia. ‘I would wish that my brother Linus would look out for me if we were captured by our enemies. I will ask if I can have a personal slave. After all, Linus has one, so I don’t see why I shouldn’t have one also. Come –’ she beckoned with her hand – ‘let us sit by the fountain. You can help me sort out the purchases I made while shopping.’

‘A slave!’ cried Lauren as they followed Rhea Silvia into the central courtyard of the house. ‘Am I a slave?’

Cy closed his eyes. Now there really would be an explosion. He couldn’t imagine Lauren taking kindly to being a slave.

‘Yes,’ said Rhea Silvia. ‘You and your brother must be house slaves until you can earn your freedom.’

Lauren spoke to Cy in a whisper. ‘What interesting dreams you have, Cy, I had no idea.’

Cy’s mouth gaped open. ‘You don’t mind being a Roman slave?’

‘I think I might like it,’ said Lauren. ‘As long as it isn’t a galley slave. I know nothing about cooking.’

‘Eh?’

Lauren hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. ‘Duh. Joke, Cy.’ She glanced round her. ‘This looks like a very up-market household. What are my duties?’ she asked Rhea Silvia.

‘If my father will buy you, then you might dress my hair and help me with my make-up,’ said Rhea Silvia.

‘Way to go!’ said Lauren. ‘That’s for me.’ She stepped forward and peered closely at Rhea Silvia. ‘Your eye make-up is fantastic. How do you get that line to extend across your eyelid without smudging in this heat?’

‘Kohl,’ said Rhea Silvia, ‘from Egypt. I mix it with a little soap and then use a fine brush. But the brush must be of genuine camel hair.’

She in her turn was studying Lauren’s clothes. ‘Your clothes are . . . unusual,’ she said. ‘May I try this?’ She pointed to the school tie draped around Lauren’s neck.

‘You can keep it as far as I’m concerned,’ said Lauren. She handed her striped tie over, and then, seeing that Rhea Silvia had no idea how to make the knot, she did it for her.

Rhea Silvia leaned over and looked at her reflection in the water of the fountain. ‘None of my friends will have anything like this. I cannot imagine how anyone thought to team these colours together.’

‘Believe me, neither can I,’ said Lauren. ‘But your clothes are gorgeous. That is the most fabby colour I’ve ever seen.’ She fingered the cloth of Rhea Silvia’s new skirt.

Rhea Silvia looked pleased. ‘The material is from a town in the Lebanon called Tyre. It is the only place that you can get such a shade. They have the secret of the purple dye. Here –’ she offered the skirt length to Lauren – ‘let us go inside to my room and see how it looks on you.’

‘I thought you liked short skirts,’ said Cy as Lauren wrapped the floor-length piece of material around herself.

‘When in Rome,’ said Lauren.

‘Pardon?’

‘It’s an expression,’ said Lauren. And, as Cy still looked bewildered, added, ‘It’s a thing people say, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” It means adopt the style and customs of the people that you are with at the moment,’ said Lauren, and she flounced after Rhea.

Cy didn’t like to point out that they weren’t in Rome, exactly. They were actually in Pompeii. Best not to, though, he thought as he trotted after the two girls; it might panic his sister and he felt that he could panic enough for both of them. Also he didn’t intend to stay here for very much longer. He would have to stop Lauren getting too friendly with Rhea Silvia and try to have a moment alone with his sister. Then hopefully he’d be able to use the dreamsilk and get Lauren back to his room quickly enough for her to believe that this was a dream.

Cy spoke politely to Rhea Silvia. ‘My sister cannot become your slave. She belongs to a household far beyond the town, and has only been allowed out for a few hours to deliver a message.’

‘No way!’ Lauren hissed. ‘I want to stay here.’

‘It’s my dream,’ said Cy in a low voice. ‘What I say goes.’

Lauren made a rude face at her brother and appealed to Rhea Silvia. ‘I’d like to be your slave.’

‘When my father returns from Rome, I will ask him to buy you from your present owner,’ said Rhea Silvia. ‘Meanwhile perhaps you would tell me how it is that you braid your hair in that manner?’

‘Sure,’ said Lauren. ‘Want me to do yours like it?’

‘Cyrus!’

Cy turned his head and saw that Rhea Silvia’s brother Linus had arrived by the fountain. Cy paused. He would have to let his sister go into the interior of the house. As a slave he could not ignore Linus’s call. He ran back hurriedly to the courtyard.

‘You must look at my new drawing.’ The boy thrust his sketch under Cy’s nose. ‘I took your advice and made it more active. It is one of the gladiators.’

‘Terrific,’ said Cy, hardly glancing at Linus’s parchment.

‘He is a new fighter,’ said Linus. ‘Such trouble he is causing. He claims he is a great lord but he has no lineage or family to speak up for him. He was captured thieving from a house on the mountain slopes outside Herculaneum. Tell me what you think. Have I captured his posture?’

‘It’s good,’ said Cy, his mind still on Lauren. How long could two girls spend talking about make-up? A very long time, if the length of the sessions in the bathroom at home when Lauren’s friends Baz and Cartwheel visited were anything to go by. Cy glanced again briefly at Linus’s drawing. ‘It’s very—’ He stopped and looked again.

‘Omigosh! Omigollygosh!’ Cy pointed a shaking finger at Linus’s drawing of a gladiator in full combat gear. It showed a small angry kilted figure partly encased in body armour, with leather greaves to protect his legs; holding a shield and wielding a short sword. From underneath the helmet glared the face of the Dream Master.

‘Where did you see this man?’ Cy stuttered.

‘At the barracks behind the Temple of Isis,’ said Linus. ‘He is a new gladiator. They call him Dominus Somniorum. He fights on the holiday in two days’ time.’

‘Fights? In two days?’ Cy’s voice came out in a strangulated yelp.

‘Yes,’ said Linus. ‘In the Amphitheatre. He fights to the death.’