I clutched my palla around me as I looked over the vegetables at the stalls, Cassius clinging to my side. The elderly merchant offered him a fig which he took eagerly. I bought some beets, mushrooms, and dates. I insisted on paying for the fig, despite the old man reassuring me that is was a gift. We walked the marketplace, the array of sights and sounds traveled through the wind that was picking up. The smell of fresh bread wafted in the air. Several stalls advertise sausages and puddings. There were shouts coming from all the stalls. We stopped to look at art when two men almost crashed into us. They pushed through the crowd, carrying buckets of water. I readjusted the satchel and decided it was time to make our way home. Cassius noticed a juggler. He tugged at my sleeve, “Can I go watch,” he begged. I couldn’t resist those cerulean eyes. “Yes, but hurry. I believe a storm is coming.”
I first heard the screams. “The Circus! The Circus is on fire,” a man bellowed and for a moment the entire crowd was silent. I eyed Cassius, still on the other side next to the juggler and the distance felt insurmountable. As people rushed to get away from the flames, I clawed through them and grabbed Cassius. It seemed it was only moments ago we heard of it, but the flames raced towards us, consuming everything in its way. People were trying to make their way to the hills. Some spoke of going to neighboring districts. Amongst the screams and roar of flames, I heard some begging to the gods. If they were listening, I don’t believe they cared. What had we done to anger them so?
It was a sea of fear as people collided into each other to escape. Some tried to help those who couldn’t make their way out themselves. The thick smoke was unbearable. I used my shawl to cover my face and ushered my son to do the same. I guided Cassius through the desperate mob. Soldiers ran toward the flames only to flee from the overbearing heat. Despicable men bearing torches taunted us before setting more fires. “We’re under orders by the bastard himself, “they cackled. Many clamored to get out of the way of the madmen.
The street became so packed, we barely moved. I searched the faces to see if there was anyone I knew. I forced us into an alley to get our bearings. We had to find another way. Following the path, I watched as people trampled over a poor girl who had gotten knocked down in the rush. I shielded Cassius and ushered him forward. He mustn’t see what the fear of death was making people do. Her mother begged everyone to go around but no one listened. We continue taking backstreets and alleyways, moving upwards out of the district into the country. I felt as though we were surrounded by heat. My son’s steps began to drag but I pulled him along. The air thickened with ash, but the at least the crowd had thinned. We passed many people who had given up. They crouched in spaces between buildings. A woman sat with her feeble father as the waited for their demise. I saw families still in their homes holding each other. I was distracted by the harsh coughs coming from Cassius. I picked him up despite the burning in my chest. I couldn’t stop. I refused to wait for death.
I clutched my boy to me. We made it. In the crowd, people cried as we watched our home be overtaken by a vengeful fire. Women and men cursed. Children cried out for the families. Cassius grew heavy in my arms, “Rest, my son, we do not know what perils lay before us.” As we all gained our bearings a man who’s burning fury rivaled that of the great fire stood addressed us.
“He did this,” he spat, “That-that tyrant!”
A woman stood from where she was nursing the wounded. “Didn’t you hear, he was playing his lyre and singing as we burned!”
The crowd murmured. “He’s a mad man, Nero,” the man continued, “he has doomed Rome to this fate.”
“He wanted this to happen. I heard soldier say they were ‘following orders,’’ a voice from the crowd shouted.
Rumors passed as fervently as the flames. By nightfall, all believed one thing: that the emperor, Nero was to blame. The glory that was our mighty Rome was drenched in blood long before our streets were flooded with fire. It makes sense. What better way for a madman to break new ground than to scorch the earth. Build the moments that truly show what kind of king he was. A rich, bloodthirsty man who’d gladly use his the bodies of his people as the foundation. Why would gods show mercy?
As we watched the district collapse and disappear into the morning, the fire rampaged on. We decided to make our way to the furthest districts. Some people stayed behind to rather be taken by the flames than be a burden or bare the grief of not finding their families. I watched Cassius make friends with a group of children. I smiled. He was safe and that was what mattered. Perhaps some semblance of the Rome from before can rise again from the ashes.
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