Authors: Kevin Ashman
‘Don’t be silly, Rose,’ answered Rubria, ‘There is no need for you to get involved, No one knows about the overseer except you and me, If I am caught, I swear I will take our secret to the grave. With all this confusion about the fires and with the blessing of the Goddess, you may just get back without anyone even noticing you have even been away.’
‘It’s too late for that, Miss,’ said Rose, glumly.
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘I was seen removing the keys from the overseer’s body,’ she said. ‘The girl enjoyed his favour and when she saw me crouched over him swore she would report me to the guard. I couldn’t let her do that.’
‘Rose, you didn’t…’
‘Oh, she’s not hurt, Miss. Well, not much, though I have locked her in the cell. I don’t know how long it will be before she comes around but with her mouth it will be only minutes before she summons the guard. So you see, I cannot go back, and I have nowhere to go. If I can come with you, at least my last few hours of this life will be in the service of the Goddess. Please don’t deny me this.’
Rubria stared at Rose for a long time before answering.
‘Rose, by the time this night is over I will probably be dead. At the very least I will be in custody and facing death at the hands of Nero. If you are caught in my company then you will face the same fate. You should take advantage of the fires and head for the outskirts of the city. If you can get outside the walls unnoticed they may think you perished in the fires. Take this chance, slim as it is, and try to gain your freedom. With the help of the Goddess you may just get lucky and escape this life of servitude.’
‘I appreciate your concern, Miss,’ she said, ‘But I want this more than anything. All my life I have been worshipping the Goddess secretly. This is my chance to openly embrace her glory. I have a chance to serve her and those who serve her, and, if I should die in the process than I would die the happiest person in the world. I knew there was a reason why the Goddess saw fit to make me live a life as a slave. This is it, Miss. This is my fate.’
‘If I smelled any sweeter, I would embrace you,’ said Rubria.
Rose stepped forward and threw her arms around the priestess.
‘I smell nothing, Miss,’ she said, ‘All my senses are blinded by your holiness.’ They embraced for a few seconds before disengaging.
‘Okay,’ said Rubria. ‘We have to go. It’s just as well you are coming for I have no idea where we are.’
‘No problem,’ said Rose. ‘Just follow me. Oh, one more thing, Miss,’ she said lifting the hood over Rubria’s head. ‘When you walk, could you crouch a bit? Try not to look so regal’.
Rubria bent over and walked up and down a few paces.
‘Like this?’ she asked.
Rose’s hand flew to her mouth and stifled a giggle.
‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘Just stay in the shadows and hope all prying eyes are focussed on the fires.’
Rubria smiled and the two made their way out of the side alley, a murdering slave leading a Priestess smelling of sewage on a journey that would probably end in both their deaths.
----
The streets were more crowded the nearer they got to the Forum and human chains passed water buckets from hand to hand as they fought in vain to fight the fires. The sounds of shouting filled the air as people searched for their loved ones, and tempers became frayed in the confusion. Squads of soldiers tried to calm the situation though were often the brunt of the anger due to their reluctance to get involved in the fire fighting. Rubria kept her head down and followed Rose through the throng towards the Temple. They stopped in a dark corner to catch their breath, coughing the smoke from their lungs.
‘How far now?’ asked Rubria.
‘Five minutes,’ said Rose, ‘The maintenance shaft in the sewer was on the opposite side of the Palatine. We have had to come the long way around to avoid the patrols going back and fore to the Palace. Miss, can I ask you a question?’
‘Of course,’ said Rubria.
‘Why are you risking your life going back to the Temple?' Even if you are successful, there can be no future for you there. If what you say is correct, then the Pontifex Maximus will have no option but to denounce you. Whether he forced you or not, just the fact that the Emperor had sex with you, condemns you to a horrible death. The Senate will always support the Emperor, whether they believe him or not.’
‘Do you believe me?’ asked Rubria.
Rose hesitated.
‘It is not my place to judge,’ Miss,’ she said. You are a Priestess of the great mother, and, as far as I am concerned, no matter what he has done to you, you will always be of Vesta.’
‘And that,’ said Rubria, ‘Is exactly why I am going back. When he was doing those things to me I thought only of the Great Mother. When I was down amongst the Phasmas, her spirit outshone those of the dead. My fate was sealed in the tower of the palace, but the aura of Vesta remained, sustaining me so I could carry out one more task. The Pontifex Maximus may reject me. The people may doubt my purity. Even my Sisters can forsake me. But not the Great Mother. No matter what happens, Vesta will always be there. Even to the end.’
Suddenly, a woman’s voice rang out above the noise of the crowd.
‘
Mother help us,’
it screamed, ‘
The Temple is on fire!’
----
The two young women ran through the smoke filled streets and within minutes, stood amongst a huge crowd before the Forum. Rubria forced her way to the front and could see flames through the shutters of one of the rooms at the far end of the courtyard. Two of the Eunuch guards stood at the entrance, fidgeting nervously.
‘
Where are the Priestesses?
’ shouted Rubria.
‘Still in there. I think,’ answered one of the guards.
‘Why aren’t you helping them?’ she screamed, ‘Somebody, in the name of all that is holy, we have to help!
For hundreds of years, access to the Vestal Temple had been denied to the common man on pain of death, and, despite the urgency of the situation, the risk of being condemned to death was too deeply ingrained into the psyche of the people. No one moved.
‘
They may be trapped!’
screamed Rose.
‘Who are we to interfere with the will of the Gods?’ asked the eunuch.
‘It is not the Gods who have caused this,’ snarled Rubria, ‘But the hand of a madman.’
Rubria indicated for Rose to step to one side so they could talk without being heard.
‘How on earth did it start in there?’ asked Rose, ‘There are no flames anywhere near.’
‘I think I know,’ said Rubria, ‘I’ll explain later. I have to get in there, Rose, and I need you to do something.’
‘Anything,’ she answered.
‘I need to get passed the guards,’ she said, ‘Do you have any ideas?’
‘Leave it to me,’ she said,’ Just be ready.’ They returned to the archway and made their way to the front of the growing crowd.
‘Ready?’ asked Rose.
‘Yes,’ said Rubria.
Without another word, Rose ran forward and drove her shoulder into one of the guard’s midriffs, driving him to the floor. Immediately, the second guard ran over to grab her, and, in the confusion, Rubria ran through the smoke filled courtyard and into the Temple.
The smoke filled her lungs and she tried to call out but her attempts only ended up in coughing fits. She looked around frantically, desperate to find any sign of her fellow priestesses. Up on the surrounding balcony she could see all the doors to the cells swinging outwards, the glow of flames visible even from the floor below and Rubria feared the worst. Suddenly her eyes returned to the one cell that was not open. In fact, the door was wedged closed by a table leaning against it. Rubria ran up the stairs and towards the cell.
‘
Hello
!’ she screamed, over the noise of the flames,
Is there anyone in there?’
‘Rubria?’ came a muffled reply, ‘Is that you?’
Rubria grabbed the table leg and heaved with all her strength until it moved slightly. She pushed again, until, finally the table fell away and the door sprang open. Over twenty people came stumbling out of the cells, including several terrified young girls. The high Priestess was amongst them. She threw her arms around Rubria.
‘Oh thank the gods,’ she said, ‘Where have you been?’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Rubria, ‘We have to get the Sisters out of here.’ The two of them ushered the Priestesses along the balcony and down the stairs. They managed to cross the courtyard towards the archway. The chief Priestess stopped short gathering her breath.
‘You go on,’ she said, ‘There is something I must do.’
‘What?’ asked Rubria. ‘All the Sisters are safe.’
‘The treasures!’ said the high Priestess, ‘I can’t stand by and watch the artefacts of the great mother destroyed.’
‘But it is too late,’ shouted Rubria, ‘The flames are out of control.’
‘My life has been dedicated to the Goddess,’ said the head Priestess, ‘She has given me my whole reason for living. I cannot forsake her now.’
Rubria stared at her.
‘You are right,’ she said. ‘I am ashamed.’ She reached out and took the hand of the high Priestess before adding, ‘We will go together.’
Despite the pleading of everyone around them, they turned around and ran back into the temple.
----
Flames were roaring from the windows on the upper levels of the Temple and forcing their way out between the red clay tiles of the roof. People shielded their faces from the heat as they peered into the inferno for any sign of the two Priestesses. Suddenly a figure forced himself to the front of the crowd.
‘What’s happened?’ he shouted above the noise.
‘Two of our Sisters ran back in to save the treasures,’ said a coughing Priestess.
‘Who? asked Dragus, ‘Who went back in?’
‘The High Priestess and Rubria,’ she said.
‘How long ago?’ he demanded.
‘No more than a few moments,’ she said.
He looked around and focussed on a bystander holding a redundant bucket of water, his mind racing furiously.
‘Give me that,’ he said and started to remove his cloak.
‘It’s no good,’ said the onlooker, ‘This is the last. One bucket won’t make any difference to that lot.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said the Centurion, ‘I won’t be wasting it on the flames.’ He shoved the cape into the bucket until most of the water had been soaked up into the fabric, and poured what was left over his head. He wrapped the cape around him, and after taking a few deep breaths, held one edge to cover his face before running through the smoke and into the courtyard.
----
Samothrace 2010
Half an hour after the phone call, Brandon was ushered through a weather worn door and up a side stairwell. When the car had arrived back at his hotel, he had been thoroughly searched and bundled into the back seat of a small car. Two moody, but casually dressed men sat with him in the back, one either side of him and they had driven for half an hour before pulling up outside a shabby looking hotel somewhere in the mountains. One of them knocked on a door, and, after a few moments, a voice called out for them to enter.
‘Mr Walker,’ said a man, sat at a side table, ‘Come on in.’ He stood up and shook Brandon’s hand. ‘I am a representative from the ministry of citizen protection.’
‘Hello,’ said Brandon, warily, ‘Why am I here and where is India?’
‘She is fine,’ said the official, ‘But all in good time. Please, take a seat.’
Brandon sat down, and looked around the room. It was typical of any three star hotel anywhere in the world. Typical, that is, except for the armed bodyguard standing just inside the doorway, blocking any escape route.
‘Mr Walker,’ said the official, ‘I will get straight to the point. I understand you have been asking questions about a certain individual by the name of Venezelos.’
Brandon thought furiously. If this man was indeed an official then the chances were that he had access to governmental resources and probably already knew a lot about him. However, If he was some sort of criminal, he may just be lying to extract information. He decided not to risk it and stuck to their cover story.
‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘Peter Venezelos. Don’t know him that well but we met in England and he asked me to call in on his mother.’
‘Where exactly did you meet him?’ asked the official.
‘In some pub near Victoria Station,’ lied Brandon before adding, ‘I’m sorry, who exactly are you and why am I here?’
‘You are here, because I too am interested in Mr Venezelos, and, as a representative of the law, I expect you to answer all my questions accurately,’ said the officer, his voice taking on a harder edge.
‘I don’t know what this is all about,’ said Brandon, ‘We are simply a couple of tourists who have been asked to deliver some flowers. If we have done anything wrong…’
‘Mr Walker,’ interrupted the man, ‘We are both professionals and I don’t want to waste time playing silly games. Let’s just get straight to the point. We know you are a serving British officer and strongly suspect you of being in the SAS.’
Brandon was horrified, but tried to keep up the pretence.
‘This is absurd,’ he said, I’m leaving. He stood up and turned to the door, only to see the guard’s hand reach to an inside jacket pocket, indicating a weapon.