There was none. She threw herself into the arena entrance. She ran inside and up some steps that led out into the rows of seats. Luckily, the first race had finished so the crowd had quietened down. Hundreds of people were able to hear her scream: “Fire – the arena’s on fire!” The masses turned and saw the smoke rising. The arena was huge and there were lots of ways to escape. In the time it takes for a chariot race, the place was empty and the frightened horses had been led away. Mary followed the crowd that hurried through the streets. She looked back to see the arena was already a wall of flame. There hadn’t been any rain for weeks, and the blue, spark-spangled smoke rose into a clear sky. A breeze blew the smoke towards the city and showers of fiery soot fell on the houses and temples. The cloud of smoke travelled faster than Mary could run. By the time she’d reached the centre of the city, some of the roofs were already smoking and people were running to save their families and their homes.
