Meanwhile, she’d learn everything Malcolm would teach her.
”Huh. So now what?”
”Now,” Malcolm grinned, “I think it’s time to scout out some lunch.”
”Now there’s a plan I like!”
Malcolm laughed and took her back down the sacred Palatine Hill in search of her first genuine Roman meal.
Grey light had barely touched the sky when Malcolm stepped out of the Time Tours inn. Wagons and carts, caught like vampires by the sunrise, had been unharnessed and abandoned where they stood. Slaves and yeoman farmers carted off the goods by hand.
”The next three days,” Malcolm told Margo as she joined him, “are going to be very much a repeat of yesterday.”
”More weird parades?”
He shook his head. “No. That’s reserved for the day of Attis’ sacrifice. But Attis is a popular cult, particularly amongst the poor in the slums and in the port cities. A lot of people will walk around in a festive state of mourning, if that makes any sense, flailing themselves same as the priests yesterday and weeping for the tragic fate of their god.”
She wrinkled her nose. Malcolm chuckled. “Get used to weird sights if you want to scout. Now, since the real fun doesn’t begin until the Hilaria, and since that doesn’t start for three days, I have a different plan of action in mind.”
”That being?”
”Ostia.”
”What’s that? Another sacred ritual where some poor schmuck gets to play king of the hour?”
”No,” Malcolm smiled “Ostia is the port city downriver from Rome.”
”Oh! Oh! That means a sightseeing trip outside Rome?”
Malcolm resisted the urge to tousle her hair. “Yes. Claudius has been building new harbor facilities. I want to see them. You should, too, just to get a grasp of Roman engineering.” He chuckled. “The engineers told the emperor the harbor would be ruinously expensive, but it had to be built because the main harbor is silting in. I can hardly wait to see it, even if it won’t be finished in Claudius’ lifetime. It’s said to be spectacular.”