Authors: Kevin Ashman
‘No,’ she gasped, ‘Please, don’t do this.’
‘Too late, lady,’ he said, ‘Your fate is sealed.’ He took a step towards her but stopped suddenly in confusion, looking down at the point of the blade protruding from his chest. A large red stain spread rapidly on his white tunic and he turned slowly to stare at Rose who was backing away from him in fear.
‘You,’ he gasped and took a step towards her, the hilt of a Gladius sticking out of his back.
Rose backed up against a wall and cringed in fear as the executioner staggered towards her. Halfway across the room he dropped the knife and fell to his knees.
‘You bitch,’ he said, ‘I will kill you for this,’ and crawled across the floor, his strength failing. Less than a metre away he fell onto his face coughing up blood onto the shining marble floor. Rose edged past him, and, placing her foot on his back, withdrew the Gladius. She placed the point of the sword on the back of his neck.
‘This is for every girl that’s ever suffered beneath your stinking body, Lembus,’ she said and thrust the blade down to sever his spine.
Rubria closed her eyes in disgust as the man died beneath the blade.
Rose stood above him, breathing hard. Eventually she regained her senses and turned towards Rubria, sword in hand. She ran forward and using the blade, started to saw the binds around her wrists.
‘Don’t worry, Miss,’ she said, ‘I’ll get you out of here.’
‘Who was he?’ asked Rubria.
‘His name was Lembus,’ said Rose, ‘He used to be a slave but won freedom and the trust of the emperor many years ago.’
‘How?’
‘He and some other slaves were paid to assassinate the emperor by one of his enemies, but he betrayed his comrades and told Nero of the plan. The plotters were crucified and Lembus was given a role within the palace as slave overseer. He also became Nero’s chief executioner, and held sway over many of the household staff. He raped freely, and, if any resisted, they conveniently disappeared.’
The corded rope fell apart from the attentions of the blade and Rubria stood up, rubbing her wrists to improve the circulation.
‘Are you okay, Miss?’ asked Rose.
‘Worry not for me, Rose, there are those who are in greater danger. Come on, there is little time.’
‘Wait,' said Rose, ‘We can’t go through the palace.’
‘Why not?’
‘Nero surrounds himself with loyal guards and they would stop you leaving. It is no secret that you are here and he has been boasting amongst his bodyguards about, well, you know, what he has been doing to you. If they see you attempting to leave you would be held until his return.’
‘Is there another way?’ asked Rubria.
‘Yes,’ said Rose after a moment’s thought, ‘Though it is beneath someone as holy as you.’
‘My holiness has long gone, Rose, I just need to get out of here before it is too late.’
‘Then come with me,’ said Rose, ‘I will get you back to your Temple. She led Rubria out of the cell and down a side passage. At each doorway or junction in a passage she signalled Rubria to wait until the coast was clear before hurrying on into the lower levels where the servants and slaves were quartered. Finally they ended up in an empty room, lined on each side with a wooden topped stone bench. Along each wooden seat were several round holes.
‘This is it, Miss,’ said Rose.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘This is a latrine, there is no way out.’
‘There are many ways out of the palace, Miss, but all will be guarded by Nero’s personal guard. There is only one exit that is not manned, and that is here.’
‘Where?’
‘Through the sewers,’ said Rose.
Rubria’s face dropped as she realised the implications.
‘Is there no other way?’ she asked.
‘No, Miss. The palace is heavily guarded and you would be caught in minutes. This sewer leads under the palace walls and to the base of the Palatine.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘If this is such a good escape route, surely it would be guarded against the escape of slaves.’
Rose looked at her in silence.
‘Sorry, Rose, I didn’t mean…’
‘It’s okay, Miss,’ she replied, ‘I know what I am, and you are right. It would seem that this is indeed a good escape route. But most slaves see no need to run from the palace. It is warm, we are fed, and apart from the attentions of some of the soldiers and the overseer, it is relatively good life. Tens of thousands of slaves across Rome have it far worse than us, and anyway, even if we escaped, where would we run to. As soon as the alarm was raised we would be caught before we reached the city walls. It has been attempted, but all have been caught and are crucified in front of the rest. We are forced to watch until the victim breathes their last breath and sometimes that takes days. No, overall, the fate of those who stay is like heaven compared to the alternative.’
‘So why are you helping me?’ asked Rubria. ‘Surely if you are found out, your fate also lies on the cross.’
‘As a little girl back in my homeland, my mother used to take me to the Temple of the Goddess to worship,’ answered Rose, ‘But my father ran up huge debts and had to sell me into slavery to pay his way. I was brought here and grew up with only this as a reminder of my family.’ She pulled out a necklace from beneath her tunic and held up a tiny wooden carving.
‘You are a worshiper?’ said Rubria.
‘Yes, Miss, and as I got older and realised the Vestal Temple lay at the foot of the palace, I became the perfect servant in order to gain favour. Soon I was being allowed out on errands and whenever possible, I would seek blessing at the gates of the Temple. So you see, I could not stand by and watch a Priestess die at the hands of a monster. I only wish I could have come sooner.’
‘Oh, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘You have done more than enough. I will take the tunnels you speak of, no matter how despicable. You must come with me and seek the protection of the temple.’
‘I can’t do that, Miss,’ said Rose sullenly.
‘Why not?’
Rose hesitated.
‘The Phasma,’ she said eventually.
‘Phasma?’ queried Rubria.
‘It is said the tunnels are haunted, Miss,’ said the slave, ‘And I know I am probably very stupid but I can’t help what I believe. The spirits of many people walk the tunnels and I would rather die myself than meet them in the darkness. Besides, I need to do something out here.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘Why don’t you just come with me? I will look after you, Rose, and when we get out of here the Order of Vesta will ensure you are given a good life.’
‘I would gladly come, Miss, she said, but at the end of the sewer is an iron grill blocking the path. It is locked from the outside. I can leave the palace without raising suspicion and will open it for you to pass.’
‘Do you have the key?’ asked Rubria.
‘No, but I know where to get it.’
‘Where?’
‘On Lembus’s belt!’
Rubria stared at the slave girl in horror.
‘Rose, you can’t go back up there,’ she said, ‘His body may have already been found.’
‘I have no choice,’ she said. ‘It did not occur to me to get the key at the time. The only thing is, if you go into the sewers, and I am caught, then you will be stuck down there with no chance of escape.’
‘It is a chance I have to take,’ said Rubria. ‘I will go through the sewer and welcome it as a penance for my sins. If it is the Great Mother’s will that I die in filth then I will go to my death knowing I have failed her.’
‘But you are not sinful,’ said Rose, ‘You are a Vestal Virgin, the very essence of purity.’
‘Not any more, Rose,’ said Rubria. ‘Perhaps my sin is of self importance and vanity. Perhaps it was I who led our Emperor on. If it was not for the safety of my fellow Sisters, then I would gladly have met Lembus’s blade with head held high.’
‘Don’t say that, Miss. You are not responsible for the lusts of men.’
‘We shall see, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘It is in the hands of the Goddess. Now, where is this tunnel?’
Rose pulled the rug away and revealed a trapdoor beneath. They both pulled on the recessed metal ring and the trapdoor rose, lifting with it the stench of the filth beneath. Rubria raised her finger to beneath her nose while Rose turned her head away to take a clean breath. Below them, the maintenance shaft dropped away into a stone lined tunnel leading from the latrine. The flow of water at the bottom was evidence of the importance of the sewer and it was obviously fed by a water supply somewhere upstream as a means of flushing away the filth.
‘Okay,’ said Rubria eventually, ‘No point in waiting any longer.’ She sat on the edge and lowered herself into the tunnel. The ceiling was a few inches above her head and made from concrete lintels and she could reach both walls of baked clay bricks if she outstretched her arms. Rubria stood ankle deep in slow moving sewage as Rose risked the stench to lean into the opening above.
‘Follow the flow downstream, Miss,’ she said. ‘I will make all haste to meet you the other end.’
‘Thank you, Rose,’ said Rubria.
‘May the Gods be with you, Miss,’ said Rose and lowered the trapdoor to seal the sewer.
Rubria heard the rug being drawn over the access trap and stood for a few moments in abject fear as she tried to summon the courage to move. The blackness was absolute and she couldn’t see as far as a hand in front of her face. Finally she took a single step forwards, followed by a nervous second. Her outstretched hand dragged against one wall, a slim comfort in the total darkness, and soon she was walking as fast as she dared, without the risk of slipping on the slime and disgusting mess beneath her feet.
----
Soon she felt the floor of the sewer start to slope downwards and Rubria realised that it must be starting to descend towards the base of the hill. The sound of the trickling water became louder and she realised it must be flowing over an obstacle of some sort. Treading carefully she tested the ground before her with her feet, and was soon rewarded with the first potential hazard. Instead of solid ground, her foot dangled in space and she carefully lowered it down until it again met the sewer floor. It was obviously the first of many steps down to the base of the hill. Over and over again she took a step downwards until she lost all track of how many steps she had taken.
Suddenly a breath of fresh air wafted past he nostrils and her head lifted automatically to gulp in the welcome relief from the stench of the sewer. For a moment she thought she was at her journey’s end but was soon disappointed to see a small circle of light far above her head at the top of a narrow air shaft designed to release the build up of gases. Rubria stood for a long time beneath the shaft, gulping in the air and gazing longingly at the inaccessible light above. For an age she couldn’t bring herself to continue her journey and she sat on pile of collapsed masonry, staring upwards and crying quietly in despair.
Suddenly something ran over her foot and she screamed in fright as the biggest rat she had ever seen was momentarily caught in the circle of light shining down from above. She caught her breath and continued her journey down the subterranean stairway.
Rubria lost all track of time but eventually realised that something was changing. The sound of trickling water had always been with her but now it was getting louder the further she walked. Finally it had become quite loud indeed and Rubria realised it sounded like a waterfall.
‘Oh no,’ she groaned as she realised the implications and though the tunnel was still in total darkness she soon realised her worst fears when she couldn’t find the next step down with her feet.
The steady flow of water that had accompanied her for the last hour or so, now fell from beneath her into a pool below. She had no way of knowing how far below the pool was, or how deep it was. Rubria stopped in despair. She didn’t want to take the last step into the unknown as she had no idea what awaited her below but it was pointless going back as there was no way out that way. She removed one sandal, and, holding it over the edge, dropped it into the darkness, counting as it fell.
‘One, Two, Thr…’ She heard a splash above the sound of the falling water and repeated the exercise with the other sandal.
One, Two, Thr…’
Splash!
There it was again. There was no other option, and Rubria realised she had to go on. Already filthy, she sat on the edge of the drop, dangling her legs into the darkness.
‘Holy Mother protect me,’ she prayed and pushed herself forward into the unknown.
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Samothrace 2010
India and Brandon walked from the quay side and up onto the main road running through the island’s one port, Kariamiotisa. Behind them, rows of blue fishing boats bobbed on the swell in the manmade harbour. They waited for the light traffic to pass before crossing and made their way towards the rows of red tiled houses. Brandon consulted a sketched diagram he had been given by the Captain before leading the way up a side street. He stopped before a small tavern with a couple of wooden benches outside.
‘Looks like this is the place,’ he said and knocked on the door before entering the cool darkness within. ‘Hello,’ he called, ‘Anyone home?’