It is 414 A.D. and the once-powerful Roman Empire is in its death throes—split between East and West, menaced by barbarian hordes almost literally at its gates. The Emperor Honorious cowers in the marsh-bound city of Ravenna, where he has moved the government. There is the Prefect Hadrian, a powerful official and fanatical Christian convert; Marcus Anicius, the pagan aristocrat who is clinging to a dyping past, and the Jew Eliezar ben Elijah, hemmed in by his own traditions and burdened by his dark vision of the future.

Auszug. � Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Threshold of Fire

A Novel of Fifth Century Rome

By Hella S. Haasse, Anita Miller, Nini Blinstrub

Chicago Review Press Incorporated

Introduction, 
I. The Prefect, 
II. Claudius Claudianus, 
III. The Prefect, 
Glossary,

CHAPTER 1

THE PREFECT

The leather curtain closes behind the soldiers. Uneasily, the prisoners survey the judgment hall and find it changed: hazy early morning light filters through the curved windows cut into the masonry between the columns. All of those who have been brought in are familiar with the Prefect's tribunal from the period before the Gothic invasion: some of them had appeared here as witnesses, others as accusers — one of them, ten years before, as the accused. At that time there had been a view, through the open gallery, of an inner court and the walls of the former temple of Tellus. Now nothing of the outside world is visible except the light coming through the high window recesses.

The only person in the room who does not look about, but keeps his eyes fixed on the floor at his feet — black and white meandering mosaics — can tell from the change in sounds — until then subdued as usual — that the Prefect has entered. A chair is being moved.

In the foreground of the Prefect's field of vision (on occasions like this, the praetorians are nothing more to him than part of the furniture: self-evident, scarcely perceived) are six men, three of whom he knows personally; he will soon address them without hesitation by name and surname: he has expected them to be there, since their presence is the result of prolonged, meticulous maneuvering. He allows himself the luxury of ignoring them, of delaying the encounter with their impassive faces and cold eyes. Then — a long look at the other three.

None of them seems like a complete stranger to him. His eyes come to rest on the last man in the row, whose face is averted: a beard, a frayed toga — a strange bird among these patricians. Out of step with the others. But the Prefect has the feeling — for reasons he cannot immediately identify — that this person will play a crucial role in the proceedings. Quickly he searches his memory, scouring various strata of his official activities: a place, a time, an event? At this moment he knows that there is something more here than meets the eye — something that goes much deeper. His satisfaction at the arrest — finally! — of what he considers to be a subversive group, is no longer unclouded. There has been a subtle shift. This affair no longer holds the prospect of a careful savoring of victory, of pleasure at the demonstration of the power of authority. It has become hollow at the core.

He gestures toward his officials.

"Today, on the third day of Nones of July, in the fifth hour after sunset, I, Aulus Fronto, Commander of the third division of the praetorian guard, made, with my men, a raid on the dwelling of Marcus Anicius Rufus on Janiculus Hill. I found Marcus Anicius Rufus and his wife Sempronia in company with a few noblemen who upon request identified themselves to us: Marcellinus Maximus, Flaccus Vescularius, Gaius Agerius Flestus, Quintus Fulcinius Trio. They were being served by three slaves: Phoebus, Milo, Herman. Upon investigation, it developed that the rest of the staff had orders not to show themselves in that part of the villa after the third hour.

"When I entered the tablinum, the situation was as follows: the couches were pushed together so that they formed three sides of a square. Marcus Anicius Rufus, his wife Sempronia and their previously mentioned guests were lying with their backs to tables on which I saw the remains of a meal. In the space which had been formed were two persons, a man and a woman calling themselves Pylades and Urbanilla, mimes by profession, who were engaged — at the request of Marcus Anicius Rufus, according to their statements — in giving a performance of the love dance of the god Dionysus and his bride Ariadne, said performance being forbidden by decree of our august Emperor Honorius in the twelfth year of his reign.

"In the garden I discovered two more members of the artistic troupe: the weightlifter Balcho and Homullus, a dwarf, disguised as Priapus. A pagan altar was standing in readiness. Upon searching the house, I found, in one of the anterooms, some baskets of live cocks; there was also a case containing instruments and objects customarily used for sacrifice and the inspection of entrails. All three slaves had seen the baskets, but alleged that they did not know who put them there. The men who, on my orders, guarded the hilly terrain around the villa seized an individual hiding in the bushes: he calls himself Niliacus and has no fixed domicile.

"He denies having had any contact with Marcus Anicius Rufus and his household. When confronted with him, everyone present stated that they had never seen the man before; Marcus Anicius Rufus, however, said this only after long hesitation. The slave Milo, when we showed him the means of coercion last night in the prison, declared that the person named Niliacus had been in the villa once before, and that was on the day of the triumphant entry of our august Emperor Honorius, three weeks ago around the hour of sunset.

"Letters, books and other documents from the library of Marcus Anicius Rufus were confiscated by me and delivered under seal to the office of the Prefect."

With the exception of Marcus Anicius Rufus, all the prisoners have been taken back to the holding rooms. The interrogation can begin.

The Prefect does not speak immediately. Nor does he look at the accused, but contemplates his own right hand, spread flat against the arm of his chair. He raises one shoulder slightly; the folds of his mantle fall from his outstretched arm. His right foot, in its red shoe, is thrust far forward, reaching almost to the edge of the platform. Because of these arrests, he was awakened earlier than usual, before sunrise. He had been impatiently awaiting the news that Marcus Anicius Rufus and his friends had been brought to the prefecture for immediate trial, but even this welcome information could not erase the memory of his strange, early morning dream ...

He had found himself on a barren, desolate coast. A rocky precipice, without a trace of vegetation, descended perpendicularly to a narrow gravel beach. The sun did not shine, the sea was grey. The enclosed bay was shaped like a half-moon and deserted, despite signs of human presence: the rocks had been fashioned to resemble the fa�ade of a temple; a row of pillars, cut out of the stone, supported a triangular frieze crowded with vague figures — perhaps nothing but rock formations. Wide steps, crumbling in many places, descended to the sea. Between the columns stood disfigured sculpture, the most striking a relief representing a right hand, raised in oath. While he stood there in his dream, he thought he heard someone call his name ...

As he dressed, he decided that it must have been his secretary's voice that he had heard.

"Marcus Anicius Rufus, you are accused of having organized a gathering in your house for the secret practice of magic, the intention being the destruction of our august Emperor and the ruination of the Empire. Do you admit these facts?"

"I invited a few friends to dinner and to an artistic performance. I don't see anything unusual about that — much less...

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