Chapter 14

Voldi shrugged and scowled but did as he was told, feeling like a warmly spanked little boy who had better swallow his indignation if he knew what was good for him. As he ambled toward the street, with the Guards trailing him at a respectful distance, he had to admit to himself that Sergius had not dealt too severely with him, considering the circumstances. It had been very indiscreet of him to come here, and he cursed himself for his imprudence. Quickening his steps, he proceeded to the tavern and went at once to his suite. A few minutes afterward, a servant appeared and took his order for dinner.

‘I understand you are to be served in your rooms, sir,’ he said. ‘Is that correct, sir?…’ Voldi said it was correct. There were three whole days of this polite and luxurious incarceration. Felix did not appear; though whether he had been ordered to stay away or was disgusted by his friend’s impertinence could not be cleared up at the moment. On the morning of the fourth day, the dining-room servant who had been bringing his meals said, as he put down the breakfast tray, ‘I understand, sir, that you are dining downstairs at noon.’

‘Yes,’ said Voldi, as if he had been notified.

He was still eating his breakfast when Felix came in, glumly nodded, and flung himself into an easy chair.

‘You certainly played hell with yourself by going down to the docks,’ he growled. ‘Now every move you make will be watched. And the Prefect will be annoyed if I am seen in your company. That’s the worst part of it, as far as I am concerned.’

Voldi flushed a little at this rebuke and was on the point of retorting angrily; but, aware that he had no case, replied, ‘It was a mistake, Felix. For your own protection, perhaps you’d do well to ignore me; at least until your father forgets about it.’

‘My father never forgets anything,’ said Felix. ‘He has the memory of an elephant…I’ll go now. And if I don’t show up for a few days, you’ll know why.’ He rose, and at the door, turned to remark, ‘I hope you will be discreet now, Voldi. I’m going to miss you.’

Voldi nodded and smiled his understanding. After the door had closed slowly and reluctantly, he moodily contemplated the dismaying position into which he had so heedlessly placed himself. The companionship of young Felix had meant more to him than he had realized.

The fine spring days were interminably long and empty. Every morning early, sometimes at the break of dawn, Darik would be mounted for a fast ride on the coast highway to the south. By breakfast time Voldi would have returned to The Agrippa. He began to study maps of the surrounding country. In his desperation to ease Fara’s mind about him and his interest in her, he began to consider a swift ride to Bethsaida. By getting away early, and urging Darik to his best speed, he might be able to make the round trip in three days. They would be out looking for him, no doubt, but he would be back at The Agrippa before they found him—he hoped!

With the plan for his reckless adventure well organized, he slipped past the sleepy night-watch while it was still dark, rode at a leisurely trot until he had passed through the southern outskirts of the city, pressed Darik to a gallop, and found an unfrequented road that angled easterly to Antipatris where he turned north on a weedy old donkey-trail. The day was hot and Darik was not conditioned for such a journey, but Voldi did not spare him. So far, so good. He had not been followed.

Late that night he applied for lodging at a filthy inn which befitted the remembered squalor of Megiddo. After giving the exhausted Darik a rub-down and a ration of grain, he tumbled down fully clothed in the straw, and slept.

In the morning, two mounted patrols arrested him as he was leaving the inn and conducted him back to Caesarea by the shortest route and put him in prison to await trial for violating the Prefect’s orders. He was not manacled and his quarters were not too uncomfortable. The food was coarse but edible. The stoutly barred window was too high for him to see out. He had nothing to read.

When he inquired of the rotund jailor how long it might be before he was brought to trial, the latter replied, ‘You picked a bad time to get yourself into trouble with the Prefect. He sailed for Rome this morning, on The Augusta. However,’ he added wittily, ‘you’re still young; and, besides, you may be better off where you are than where you might be later. Prefect Sergius, my boy, is not a man to be trifled with! He has had men beheaded for less than you did!’