Ben Kane - The Forgotten Legion

Rome, 70 BC

It was hora undecima, the eleventh hour, and the sprawling city wasbathed by the red glow of sunset. A rare breeze moved air betweenthe densely packed buildings, passing relief from the stifling summerheat. Men emerged from their houses and flats to finish the day's business,chat outside shops and stand drinking at open-fronted street taverns. Theeager cries of merchants competed for the attention of passers-by whilechildren played on doorsteps under the watchful eyes of their mothers.From somewhere in the centre, near the Forum, came the rhythmic soundof chanting in a temple.

This was a sociable and safe hour, but shade was already lengtheningin the alleyways and small courtyards. Sunlight fell away from the tall stonecolumns and statues of the gods, returning the streets to a darker and lessfriendly grey colour. The seven hills that formed Rome's heart would bethe last parts to remain lit, until darkness claimed the capital once more.

Despite the time, the Forum Romanum was still thronged with people.Flanked by temples and the Senate, the basilicae, the huge covered markets,were filled with shopkeepers, soothsayers, lawyers and scribes plying theirtrade from little stalls. It was late in the day, but someone might want a willdrawn up, a prophecy made, a writ issued against an enemy. Mobile vendorsmade circuits of the area, trying to sell fruit juices that had been warm forhours. Politicians who had been working late in the Senate hurried outside,only stopping to talk if an ally's eyes could not be avoided. Seeing theirmasters, groups of slaves jumped up from board games scratched on to thesteps. Trying to avoid the blisters on their sunburnt shoulders, they swiftlylifted their litters and moved off.

A handful of determined beggars remained on the temple steps, hopingfor alms. Several were crippled but proud veterans of the legions, the invinciblearmy which had provided the Republic's wealth and status. They woretattered remnants of uniform mail shirts more rust than rings of iron,brown tunics held together by patches. For a copper coin they would recounttheir martial stories the blood shed, limbs lost, comrades buried in foreignlands.

All for the glory of Rome.

Despite dwindling light, the Forum Boarium, where beasts were traded,was also full of citizens. Unsold cattle bellowed with thirst after a day inconstant sunshine. Sheep and goats huddled together, terrified by the smellof blood from the butchers' blocks only a few steps away. Their owners,small farmers from the surrounding countryside, prepared to drive themto night pasture beyond the walls. On the Forum Olitorium too, stallsselling foodstuffs were bustling with customers. Ripe melons, peaches andplums added their aromas to spices from the Orient, fresh fish and whatremained of the day's bread. Keen to sell all their fruit and vegetables,vendors offered bargains to anyone who caught their eye. Plebeian womengossiped as they finished their shopping and went into shrines to offer aswift prayer. Slaves who had been sent to buy ingredients for last-minutefeasts cursed as the light disappeared from the sky.

But away from these open spaces, anyone who was still out scuttledfaster to reach the safety of their houses. No decent Roman wanted to beoutside after sunset, especially in the dismal alleyways between the insulae,the cramped blocks of flats in which most citizens lived. By night the unlitstreets were populated by thieves and murderers.