Chapter 2

CHAPTER 12 AUGUST 23, AD 79 THE AFTERNOON BEFORE MAIN STREET, POMPEII Marcus walked along the dusty main street of Pompeii, carrying a smelly sack stuffed with his master's dirty laundry. It was early afternoon, and the street was packed with people — shoppers sifting through bins of pomegranates and melons, weary slaves collecting water from the fountains, beggars holding out their grimy hands. A snake charmer dozed while his cobra peeked out of its basket, tasting the air with its flicking tongue.

公元79年8月23日庞贝大街前的下午马库斯背着一个塞满主人脏衣服的臭口袋，走在庞贝尘土飞扬的大街上。 那是下午早些时候，街上挤满了人——购物者在箱子里筛选石榴和瓜，疲惫的奴隶从喷泉里取水，乞丐伸出他们肮脏的手。 一个耍蛇人在打瞌睡，他的眼镜蛇从篮子里探出头来，用它颤动的舌头品尝着空气。

"Salve," Marcus said, a friendly Latin hello for the deadly reptile. If only he had a basket to hide in right now. There were no good days for Marcus lately, but this day was sure to be more miserable than usual. It was broiling hot and his ragged tunic was soaked in sweat. Even worse, his master, Festus Julius, was expecting important guests from Rome this evening, friends of the emperor. This meant even more backbreaking work than usual for Marcus and the other slaves. For days they'd been scrubbing the villa so that the mosaic floors shined like diamonds, so that every silver bowl and goblet gleamed. The guests would arrive by chariot — men in flowing white togas, women in silk robes and with painted red lips, jewels flashing from every finger. Tonight there would be a great feast of roasted flamingo and wild boar, honey-baked mice stuffed with raisins and dates, and lobsters as big as cats. The guests would lounge on silken couches and gorge themselves until they threw up… and then, their stomachs empty, they would eat more.

“药膏，”马库斯说，这是对这种致命爬行动物友好的拉丁语问候。 要是他现在有个篮子就好了。 最近马库斯没有好日子过，但这一天肯定比平时更悲惨。 天热得要命，他那破旧的外衣被汗水浸透了。 更糟糕的是，他的主人，非斯都·朱利叶斯，今晚正在等待来自罗马的重要客人，皇帝的朋友。 这对马库斯和其他奴隶来说意味着比平时更繁重的工作。 几天来，他们一直在擦洗别墅，让马赛克地板像钻石一样闪闪发光，让每个银碗和高脚杯都闪闪发光。 客人们坐着马车来——男人穿着飘逸的白色长袍，女人穿着丝绸长袍，涂着红唇，每个手指上都闪烁着珠宝。 今晚将有一场盛大的宴会，有烤火烈鸟和野猪，蜂蜜烤老鼠，里面塞满葡萄干和枣子，还有像猫一样大的龙虾。 客人们懒洋洋地躺在丝绸沙发上，狼吞虎咽，直到吐出来，然后，他们的胃空了，他们会吃得更多。

Tomorrow, Festus would take them all to the gladiator fight at Pompeii's amphitheater. From front-row seats, they would cheer as the warriors tried to stab one another to death with swords, spears, and daggers. People were coming from all over to see the spectacle, which featured Pompeii's champion fighter. He was a giant of a man, who had lost an eye in one of his early battles. The injury had earned him the fighting name of Cyclops, after the one-eyed monster from the old Greek tales. Like almost all gladiators, Cyclops was a slave who was forced to fight. But he was one of the lucky few — still alive after many battles. Just thinking about these brutal tournaments horrified Marcus. Suddenly his whole body was shaking. But wait, it wasn't Marcus who was trembling. It was the earth beneath his feet! Marcus dropped his sack and braced himself against a stone fountain. A huge marble statue of the warrior Achilles looked down on him. Marcus wished he felt as brave as Achilles!

明天，费斯都要带他们去庞贝的圆形剧场看角斗士比赛。 在前排的座位上，当战士们用剑、矛和匕首互相刺死时，他们会欢呼雀跃。 人们从四面八方赶来观看庞贝拳王的表演。 他是一个巨人，在早期的一次战斗中失去了一只眼睛。 这次受伤为他赢得了“独眼巨人”的绰号，这是古希腊故事中独眼怪物的名字。 像几乎所有的角斗士一样，独眼巨人是一个被迫战斗的奴隶。 但他是为数不多的幸运儿之一，在经历了多次战斗后还活着。 一想到这些残酷的比赛，马库斯就感到害怕。 突然，他整个身体都在颤抖。 但是等等，颤抖的不是马库斯。 是他脚下的大地!马库斯放下麻袋，靠在一个石头喷泉上。 一座巨大的战士阿喀琉斯大理石雕像俯视着他。 马库斯希望自己能像阿喀琉斯一样勇敢!

But these tremors spooked him. For weeks they'd been shaking the city, putting cracks in the walls of Festus's villa, sending his spoiled dogs into fits of howling. Usually the quakes were quick, ending in just a few seconds. Most people seemed to barely notice them. But this quake was more powerful than most. The ground shuddered and shook, harder and harder. Up and down the street, the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood and crumbling stone pounded Marcus's ears. Crash! Crack! Bang! Vendors cursed as their baskets of fruit and vegetables toppled. A bamboo birdcage fell and burst open, scattering a flock of tiny white birds into the dusty air. Barrels rolled wildly through the streets, gushing wine as red as blood. Marcus held tight to the fountain as the water inside it sloshed, splashing over the rim and soaking his tunic.

但这些震动吓坏了他。 几个星期以来，他们一直在震动这座城市，把非斯都别墅的墙壁弄裂，把他那些被宠坏的狗弄得嚎叫不止。 地震通常发生得很快，几秒钟就结束了。 大多数人似乎都没有注意到他们。 但这次地震比大多数地震都要强烈。 大地颤抖着，摇晃着，越来越厉害。 街道上到处都是玻璃碎裂、木头碎裂、石头碎裂的声音，回荡在马库斯的耳边。 崩溃!裂缝!砰!小贩们的水果和蔬菜篮子倒了，他们咒骂着。 一个竹制鸟笼掉了下来，撞开了，一群白色的小鸟散落在尘土飞扬的空中。 酒桶在街上疯狂地滚来滚去，涌出像血一样红的酒。 马库斯紧紧抓住喷泉，喷泉里的水晃动着，溅过了边缘，浸湿了他的外衣。

And then he heard it, a creaking just over his head. Marcus looked up just as the massive marble statue of Achilles came crashing down on top of him.

就在这时，他听到了声音，就在他头顶上传来了嘎吱嘎吱的声音。 马库斯抬起头，硕大的阿喀琉斯大理石雕像在他头顶上轰然倒塌。