Dream Master

‘MY FATHER’S CHARIOT!’ cried Linus. ‘It is kept with the innkeeper in the next street.’

‘I will collect a few things for the journey,’ said Rhea Silvia. She made to re-enter the house.

Cy tugged at her sleeve. ‘There is not enough time and we must carry nothing. Soak some cloths in water from the fountain in the courtyard while Linus and I get the chariot ready.’

When they returned, Rhea Silvia, who had spoken to some women passing in the street, said, ‘There is word that the admiral of the fleet himself is coming to rescue us.’

Cy recalled his Internet search and the print-out of Pliny the Younger’s letter. ‘They will not be able to land,’ said Cy. ‘The wind is too strong and it is blowing offshore.’

‘Towards the sea,’ said Cy, hoping that he sounded as though he knew what he was doing. ‘That’s our best chance.’

Standing in the chariot with Linus by his side, Cy shortened the reins on the two horses. He tried to recall the map of Pompeii. In which direction lay the sea?

Beside him Linus was trembling in fear. Behind him Rhea Silvia, protected by the Dream Master, was crouched low in the chariot, trying to avoid the masonry and roof tiles which were cascading from the buildings.

As Cy hesitated, the horses made the decision for him. Spooked by the noise and the atmosphere, they began to trot nervously down the road. Cy could see the map of Pompeii in his mind’s eye – the long straight lines of the roads laid out in the typical manner of a Roman town. And around it was the city wall with gates . . . of course! The ports! He remembered his dictionary search. The Porta Marina was the way to the sea!

‘We will go to the gate that leads to the sea,’ Cy told Linus. He gave the younger boy an encouraging smile. ‘You hold the whip,’ he said. He hoped that giving Linus something to do might take his mind away from the situation a little.

Hot cinders and fine ash were collecting in drifts against the doors of the shops and houses. Some of the rocks which the volcano had thrown out were so large and heavy that several buildings had collapsed. Ahead of them the road was blocked.

‘We could try the road to the Forum Baths,’ said Linus. ‘We can follow it west and then cut through past the Forum and that way reach the gate to the sea.’

With great difficulty Cy turned the chariot round. The wheels churned in the thick layer of ash. The ground shook under them and with a great heave Vesuvius again belched flame and molten rock.

Looting had begun. Smashed amphorae littered the road. A group of rough men stood outside a wine shop and eyed the approaching chariot. As Cy drew even, one of the thieves who had been injured on the side of his face and was bleeding from the mouth tried to grab the horses’ reins. The horses reared and plunged, hooves flailing the air.

Linus raised his whip and hit the man across the head. ‘We should travel faster,’ he told Cy. He leaned across and brought the lash down on the backs of the horses.

With terrified whinnies the horses leaped forwards and began to gallop at a furious pace. Cy clung on, trying to control the chariot as the wheels bounced off the cobbles and struck sparks from the road below.

Through the streets of Pompeii Cy raced for his life. Past the Temple of Jupiter and the north side of the Forum, horses and chariot clattered. Cy wrenched on the reins to swing them to the left. He could see the roof of the Temple of Apollo. Another twist in the road brought him close by the Basilica and now the Porta Marina was in sight!

The Porta Marina was one of the narrowest exits of the city. The two vaulted passageways, one for pedestrians and one for vehicles, were both clogged with traffic. Some people were trying to leave, others trying to gain entrance to the city.

In the crush of wagons and carts the horses shook their heads and began to stamp and kick wildly. Linus jumped out and soothed them as Cy guided them through. Then they were off down the slope and onto the main Roman highway.

The animals’ fear drove them on. Linus gripped the sides of the chariot with both hands and Cy held grimly onto the reins. ‘Do you know any way to reach the sea where there might be a boat?’ he called to Rhea Silvia.

‘Yes!’ Rhea Silvia called back. ‘When Linus and I were small the house slave took us to a little cove where the fishermen beached their boats. It is reached by a cliff top . . . South! Take the road south, and I will watch out for the turn-off.’

On a rise beyond the town they turned to look at the scene behind them. The cone of Vesuvius was almost hidden by a dense mass of gas and pulverized rock. A blizzard of grey ash was falling on Pompeii and a great darkness was moving across the land.

Cy saw an unpaved road branching to the right and dragged the horses to a standstill. With Linus’s help he managed to turn their heads and they set off down the lane at a fast trot. Soon the road disappeared into rough hilly terrain and he realized that they would have to get out and walk.

A hot sulphurous wind was howling through the olive trees scattered about the hillside. Wrapped in their cloaks with the wet cloths against their mouths, the refugees were almost doubled up against it.

‘No,’ said Cy. ‘It will get worse. In a few hours there will be a hurricane which will destroy everything before it.’

In the distance, through the murk they could see the mountain of Vesuvius. From the centre of an enormous red and black cloud lightning arced, flashing silver and blinding white. The appearance of the boiling column of smoke was changing. It was condensing, beginning to drop . . .

‘Hurry! Hurry!’ cried Cy. ‘You must get into a boat. Then the wind will blow you to safety.’

Cy took a few deep breaths and went to help the Dream Master. He grabbed the little man by both arms, hauled him to his feet and began to push him up the hill ahead of him. As he did so Cy looked up. Against the skyline he could just make out two figures. They were there! With her arm around her brother, Rhea Silvia had reached the top of the cliffs!