DAVID 134
DAVID IN ROME — Chapter NINE
The Conclusion
David tied the bag of gold to his belt, stepped into the chariot, and took hold of the reins.
“Wait,” said Fahad. He placed his hand on David’s forearm. “If someday you can come back,” he said, “please.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Come back to me.”
David took the reins in his hands and looked deep into Fahad’s sad eyes. “Fahad,” he said, “I will always remember you.” And then he raised his forearm and kissed Fahad’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
Titus extended his hand and took David’s wrist. “I would have liked to have been your friend,” he said.
David smiled and pushed his head, playfully. “You already are." His smile faded, and he sighed. "Say goodbye to the others for me.” And then all three of them heard a commotion in the house.
Titus ran to open the gate. “One last thing,” he said. “Forget this man Sostratus. As long as you swear vengeance, you are truly and forever his slave.” And then there was more noise in the house. “Caesar’s soldiers!” Titus whispered. He stepped aside to clear the way for the horses. “Go! Go, go, go, go!”
• • • • •
The horses thundered down the Via Ostiensis. He gave them no rest, and their eyes were wide and wild. When he asked people on the way, they could see the fury in his eyes, and they gave answer to him without questions. They could sense the rage, and they could sense the self-loathing; the anger directed at his quarry, and the anger directed at himself.
He had called upon the stablehouse and found that Sostratus had fled in the night. He was not bound for Portus on the evening tide, but for a ship sailing earlier from Ostia. He had tricked everyone. He had taken all his slaves with him. All that was left in the cell adjoining the stablehouse was the cane his mother had used and a child’s doll.
David drove the horses to the very end of the docks, glaring into peoples’ eyes on the way and demanding to be shown the slave ship of Sostratus. In fear, they simply pointed. The crowd was thin on this early morning, and he finally made his way to the last pier. Staircases led down to a series of docks, each one guarded by a statue of a Roman god perched atop a wooden pillar. Apollo and Jupiter looked out upon empty docks, but the statue of Neptune, poised as though ready to throw his trident, looked out upon a ship in full sail, with oars readied. The captain and a sailor waited at the gangplank, ready to pull it up and make a quick getaway.
David stood at the railing and looked down at the dock. There stood Sostratus, waiting patiently.
“Ho, my pet!” he called out. “Did you miss me?”
David’s fists gripped the railing so hard, his knuckles turned white. “I will crush your neck!” he called out to the slaver. “I will crush it and leave only enough breath for you to tell me where she is!”
Sostratus held a flaming torch in his left hand. He raised both hands ceremoniously, as though he cast light on the bright morning. “But lo!” he cried out. “Look behind you!”
David turned and scanned the pier. There was no one. Only the distant murmur of the crowd beyond, the sound of a child crying, and the creaking of timbers as the sea lapped beneath the pier.
And then suddenly, softly: “David! Help us.”
He looked up, and his heart withered.
There she was, crouched in a cage so small she could not stand. There were six children with her, five little boys and a tiny little girl. The little boys gripped the bars of the cage to save their sanity, to give their minds focus and to keep their eyes, which were huge with horror, from looking down at the open grate on which they stood, and at the swirling waters beneath them. The little girl clung to Rebecca, wailing and unable to take her eyes off her waiting, watery grave beneath her. Rebecca bounced the little girl absentmindedly, and she looked at her son and sighed guiltily.
He knew exactly what had happened. She had always taken in strays. She had tried to save them, to escape with them, or just to be ready for rescue with them in tow. And now they were all in a cage, suspended from the boom of a crane, with nothing but air and water to catch them.
David turned back to Sostratus.
Sostratus smiled. “They seem in a dire predicament!”
David did not answer, he bolted towards the crane, but had not gone two steps before he froze. The capstan handles, which would have been turned by a team of men or animals, had been chopped off. There was no way to turn the crane and swing the cage over to the pier. With dread, he looked up, and saw that the cage was not suspended by any of the ropes that were fastened to the pier. He followed the rope that held the cage with his eyes. It stretched in a tight arc well beyond his reach and was fastened to the railing on the dock below him, where Sostratus waited with his torch.
David pounced on the railing. “No!” he yelled. “Let them go!”
“I intend to!” shouted Sostratus. “And you will see their rescue from the hold of my ship, or see them plummet into the sea from where you stand. That choice is up to you.”
“No!”
“I am a businessman!” shouted Sostratus. “And this is my price! You, for them.”
David burned with rage.
“You see?” Sostratus shouted. “Your strength is no match. I am your master. I always will be your master because I know how to torture you. I know what hurts you.”
The memory of helplessness, the feeling of being jerked and led as though he wore the iron ring around his cock even now, infuriated him.
“Sometimes the best way to torture someone, is to torture those they love.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he would crawl. Beg. Anything to save them. If anything could save them.
“Know this, my pet!” He raised the torch again. “Have no noble dreams of hoisting this rope. It is covered with pitch, and one touch from this torch and it will be a line of fire, immune from any breeze or bucket of water. You could grasp it at any point, and all you’d accomplish would be to burn your hands and be left holding it while it snapped from some other point out of reach. Or,” he continued, “you could strip off all your clothes…slowly… for you know how I love to watch you undress, and you could show the world what an obedient and stupid bull you are. And after that, you could chain yourself in the hold of my ship.”
David hung his head. “Oh no,” he whispered. The pain of defeat stabbed him in the heart. He felt as though he was in chains already.
Sostratus shouted: “I have fashioned a new cock ring for you, and remember my promise given to you when you spat in my eye on the steps of the temple of Mars. I owe that broad back a whipping, and it is fortunate that the man who awaits you cares not if you have scars, for he is fond of whipping his men.” Sostratus chuckled. “And you have so much to whip!”
David looked up at the cage. Grabbing the rope was useless, even if it wasn’t on fire. The rope needed to be pulled from behind the crane, not from the dock below. The only way to assure their safety was to turn the crane, to swing the boom over the pier, but even if the capstan was whole, he wasn’t sure that even his great strength would be enough. There was nothing but empty space all around him. The dock was littered with old ropes used for tying the ships to the docks. He covered his face with his hands, and pictured himself again, in chains, with the cockring locked tightly around his balls, and Sostratus’ nimble hands caressing his chest and his buttocks.
“You’ve lost!” shouted Sostratus. “Come here, boy!”
He would have to be a slave again. Led around by the cock. Laughed at. Played with.
“Or do you want scarred hands to go with your scarred back?”
That was the only answer. He would have to find a way to escape later.
“And at night, will you look at your hands, and remember the rope? Burning?” Slipping? Breaking?”
Someday he might find them again. At least, that’s what he told himself.
“Your heart breaking forevermore.”
He felt a torrent of tears well up. Because in his heart, he knew.
“And you’d better hurry, for I dare say Caesar wants you back too. You were followed, weren’t you?”
He knew two things.
“You don’t want your last memory to be of them…falling.”
There was a chance.
“Their screams.”
Just one chance.
“The splash.”
One desperate chance.
“Your failure.”
But it meant giving up his dream of vengeance. It meant letting go. It meant burning for the rest of his life with the knowledge that the monster was still alive. Somewhere.
“Their drowning...in that cold, cold water.”
He looked at the pillar. He looked at the statue. He looked at the cage.
“You’ve lost!”
And he knew.
“You’ve LOST!”
He knew also...
“Obey me!”
He knew that even if he obeyed, Sostratus would kill them. He had no choice now. The only question in his mind was whether, if his plan failed, he would try to live with the grief, or follow them into the sea. He raised his head, to gaze down at Sostratus on the dock below him, and he yelled, “GO TO HELL!!!” And then he bolted for the crane, scooping up a coil of rope as he went.
“So be it!” shouted Sostratus angrily, and he set fire to the rope.
David ran to the edge of the pier. He glanced back at the dock below and saw Sostratus toss the torch over the side of the dock and run for the ship. A moment later, the rope from which the cage was suspended burst into flame, and the fire crawled up its length. The little boys in the cage began to cry. David glanced up at them and then back down at Sostratus, and Fahad’s words echoed in his mind:
“…hit him over the head with the bag if that’s what it takes to stop him…”
He fingered the bag of gold, and then untied it from his belt. He calculated distance, speed, and weight, took a few steps back, and then launched it into the air, never taking his eyes from Sostratus’ head. It sailed high overhead, in a great arc, and burst open just behind Sostratus’ feet, spilling gold coins onto the dock in a great, glittering spray.
David cursed, and thought: Go. Go! Go and never let me see you again.
Sostratus froze. He looked at the rolling coins around him, dazzled.
David climbed the railing and took a wide stance. He held the coil of rope and aimed at the cage.
Sostratus looked up, and saw the young man perched high above him, busy with a coil of rope. The slaver surmised that he had a few moments of safety now that the young man was busy, and so he stooped to gather up some coins.
David held on to one end of the rope and threw the rest to the top of the cage. He missed. Hurriedly, he gathered it in coiling loops and it flew trough the air again. The other end landed on the top of the cage, and Rebecca reached for it, but it was too late. The weight of the rope pulled it down. Again, David gathered it in, and he called out, “Tie it to the boom!”
Rebecca pulled one of the little boys away from the bars of the cage and handed the little girl to him. She looked out at her son.
David threw the rope again. “Tie it to the boom! Not the cage!”
The rope fell across the top of the cage, and this time Rebecca thrust her hands through the rusty bars and grabbed it. She maneuvered it to the pulley above the cage and wrapped the end of the rope around the boom above the pulley.
David leapt from the railing to the pier, just in time to see the burning rope begin to unravel.. One of the strands had snapped halfway down to the dock, and the rope did a slow twist as it came apart.
Rebecca had only a precious few feet of rope to work with. As best she could, she secured her end with a knot, and then she tugged on the end with all her might, sending the cage swinging. The children wailed and looked to her. She crouched down and gathered them in. “Close your eyes,” she said. “Close your eyes and hold on to me. I won’t let go of you.” And then she watched her son.
David pulled the rope. The boom would not move. He raced along the pier, behind the crane, and pulled with all his might.. He pulled until his hands burned and his shoulders trembled. Sweat streamed from his forehead. He pulled harder, until he felt like his shoulders would dislocate, but his sandals slipped and slid along the smooth wood of the pier. He turned, draping the rope over his shoulder and he leaned hard into his pull. The rope creaked and groaned, but the crane stood still. It needed to be pulled from the side, and he was pulling it from behind.
Another strand snapped, and this time the rope stretched an inch and the cage jerked. The children screamed.
David’s breath caught in his throat. He looked down at the dock. Sostratus was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t care anymore. All he cared about was moving the cage…moving it so that it hung over the pier and not over the water.
Another strand snapped, and the rope stretched taut and spun as it undid itself. Now there was only one thin strand left. It had not caught fire yet, since it had been the innermost strand, but a gust of wind blew, and the fire crept along its length and began to eat away at it.
He needed more weight. He needed more help. He needed something to pull hard.
Directly below him, Sostratus cackled with glee as he heard the big man running on the pier above him. He glanced back at the ship. The captain and the sailor still stood, waiting. The ship tugged at the ropes that held it, jerking with the ebbing tide. The captain and the sailor were waving at him now, urging him to board. Sostratus muttered to himself, “All in good time, my friends.” He stooped to gather a few more coins. “All in good time.”
David climbed the railing again. He had only a few feet of slack, and he looped the rope around the neck of the statue of Neptune and tried to tie a knot, but the rope was not long enough.
The last strand of the rope holding the cage was now ablaze. It charred and crisped beneath an orange flame.
David wrapped his end of the rope around the arm of Neptune. He made a knot, and tugged it tight.
The burning rope began to crackle. The flame flared higher as it engulfed the dry fibers.
David stepped over the railing, placed his hands on Neptune’s back, and pushed. The statue did not move. He grabbed the rope, ready to untie it and tie it again to the railing, but he knew that the sudden drop of the heavy, iron cage might be too much for the rope, and the railing was flimsy and brittle. The jerk of the falling cage would easily break it in two.
Sostratus crawled farther out onto the dock, gathering up the coins. His fists were full, so he threw coins into the folds of his sleeves.
David wedged himself between the pier and the statue, holding himself up by putting his hands by his hips and grabbing onto the wooden pier. He raised his legs and walked his feet along the back of the statue’s legs. The pushing point would have to be just right. Too high and the statue would merely tilt forward. Too low and the weight of the statue and the pillar would prove too much to move. He prayed that the pillar was not bolted to the dock. He prayed the statue was hollow. He prayed he had the strength. And then he pushed with his legs.
Nothing happened.
The burning rope began to vibrate, as though plucked.
He pushed harder.
Rebecca lowered her head, and readied herself.
Sostratus crawled for another coin.
David pushed harder.
The fibers in the burning rope blackened.
One little boy opened his eyes and looked up. The fire had reached the pulley.
David pushed harder. He held his breath. The veins stood out in his neck.
Sostratus glanced back. The young man was nowhere in sight.
Rebecca told herself that she would not scream. She didn’t want a scream to be the last memory she gave the children, and her son.
David pushed. He felt the huge weight shift.
Sostratus laughed. The young man was a fool to try to hit him with a bag of gold. And what music this was, the wails of children mixed with the creaking of wood from somewhere and the splash of waves.
David’s knees screamed in pain. His hips burned. His head felt as though it was going to burst. He lowered his feet, and pushed on the top of the pillar. He heard the creak of old, dried wood, and then the pillar tilted forward an inch.
David relaxed. The statue rocked back, and when it rocked forward, he thrust his legs outward, and felt them extend farther than before…just a bit.
Sostratus cackled. Here the boy was trying to do who knows what, while he gathered gold!
David let the statue fall back again, enduring the pain as it crushed him slightly against the pier, and then, taking advantage of its forward momentum as it rocked back, he pushed. He pushed with all his might.
The captain and the sailor called out something to Sostratus.
David rocked the statue back and then forward again. This time, he was able to extend his legs out almost all the way, and the pillar and the statue teetered at the point of no return for what seemed like an eternity. The muscles in his thighs quivered. His lungs burned, desperate for air. Inexorably, the pillar came back towards him. He swung his legs and hips to one side to avoid being crushed.
The captain and the sailor called out to Sostratus again.
David pushed. He let loose an animal howl of rage and desperation and he pushed. His face was red. His arms trembled.
In quick succession, the fibers of the burning rope began to snap, pulling back into black curls.. The rope twirled and spun crazily.
The pillar and its statue leaned forward, slowed, and stayed there. And in that moment...that moment when he realized that he might not be able to push the statue past the point of no return, the base of the wooden pillar reached its limit. With the full weight of the pillar and statue on its forward, bottom edge, the wood split, and the front sheared off.
And unknowingly, Sostratus had indeed been hit…not in his head, but in his black and greedy heart. He thought it strange that the children had stopped crying suddenly, and there had been the faintest vibration in the dock beneath him.
David felt the weight leave his legs. And the statue and the pillar went forward.
The rope attached to the boom went taut, and then there was the groan of tortured wood as the crane was twisted, pulled by the weight of the falling statue. The boom swung around. The children screamed.
The captain and the sailor both yelled at once: “Sostratus! Sostratus look out!”
And Sostratus looked up at them to see them pointing. He twisted around and looked up. He dropped the coins he held, and held his hands up. He shrieked at the sight. He lost his balance and fell onto his back.
And like a fork stabbing a fly on a table, so the trident of Neptune nailed Sostratus’ belly to the dock. The impact shook the pier. With eyes wide, and mouth agape, the slaver grasped the staff of the trident and looked up at the baleful eyes of Neptune.
The burning rope snapped. The cage plunged to the pier with a chorus of screams and then a crash.
David tore his eyes from the gruesome sight below him and pulled himself to the pier. He ran to the remains of the cage to find the occupants injured, but alive.
For a moment, the statue and the pillar teetered, propped up on the end of the trident, and then, with most of its weight in the body and right arm, it fell to its side. There was the thunderous thud of solid wood on solid wood, and the dull ring of hollow metal. The pillar, being cylindrical, rolled like a millstone, turning the statue with it. It swung Sostratus’ impaled, twitching body high into the air, and went through the wooden railing with the clattering of splintering wood, and then the statue and the pillar rolled as one off the dock, and entered the water with a tremendous splash, and took Sostratus to the bottom of the sea.
• • • • •
And so my friend, to answer your question, that is the man I saw, the man that the sculptor Ancaeus remembered when he sculpted the pediment you see at this temple of Herakles, for, like Herakles, David was a hero. With patience and strength, he battled a monster, and won.
As to what happened then, no one truly knows, save that the tales of his further exploits abound. Perhaps one day I will tell you more of them.
But what is truly known is, as I said, that on that very day, he disappeared from the world of men. How a man like that could be unnoticed is a wonder, and yet…shall I tell you?
I think I know.
For it was one night in a tavern that I heard a man so drunk that he talked and laughed loudly to himself. He was a ship’s captain, and he spoke of the biggest man he’d ever seen as he sailed from Halicarnassus to Ephesus. I asked him what the man’s name was. He could not remember. I asked him where the man had come from. He could not remember. He was so drunk, he could not stand, and could barely speak. But he remembered a woman of age that was with him, and that she was quite devoted to him. I asked if her name was Rebecca, and he said he did not remember, but that the children that were with them loved her as a mother. I asked how many children. He could not remember. I asked if there was but one girl. He could not remember. I asked if the man was fair of face, and he said no one knew for the man was a leper.
My heart sank when I heard this, but then he looked at me slyly and said that the woman’s story, which he pretended to believe, was that they were journeying to Jerusalem, for the man she accompanied was now clean, and had only to be deemed so by a priest. And once at sea they also asked of passage onward, to Alexandria. I asked if the man was strong, with huge muscles, and the man said that no one knew for he was covered from head to toe in linen robes, and he wore a hooded cloak and always kept his head low. The captain said that the only reason his shipmates allowed this leper on board was because he showed his hands, and they were whole and clean, and this captain ate with him each night to put the fear in his men away. And then I asked if he had seen any other part of this big man, and he said that the only other part that showed was through a small, narrow slit in the cloth that covered the man’s face so that his eyes could see out. I asked if his eyes were pale and weepy, like a leper’s.
And the man said, “Oh no. No, that I shall never forget. For they were the bluest eyes I have ever seen.”
— The End —
2004