Rewriting History
Pax Romanus: Part II
By: CountessMorgana

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"It was found in that year, the Vestal Virgin Murusia, who before fell under suspicion of the College of Priests for her rich dress, was then accused of the crime of fornication, and was remanded. They found her guilty, and this crime being most serious in nature, she was sentenced to her fate in the Campus Sceleratus...

"In this same year Postumia, who was also a Vestal, too had to answer a charge of misconduct. Like the former, she dressed well and talked rather more freely and wittily than a young girl should, that up to a point justified the suspicion against her. She was interrogated, and found innocent, with a warning from the College of Priests to stop making jokes and to dress in future with more regard to sanctity and less to elegance."

History of Rome (Ab Urbe Condita) by Lado Scribonianus
Book VI Chapter 54: Tribunicia Murusia et Postumia

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After Bruttius was dead, Bonita was taken to the Campus Sceleratus, an underground chamber near the city's Colline gate. There she was stripped of her Vestal's stola, and her veil, which were cast to the ground, soaked with oil and torched until they were burned to fine ash. Her tunic was torn at the back, and two men beat her with wooden rods until her back was not more than a bloody, oozing mass of torn flesh. Nearly unconscious from the pain, she was thrown into the Campus Sceleratus. The entrance quickly rebricked by masons, Bonita was entombed alive alongside the remains of disgraced Vestals before her with a few days of food and water to prolong the punishment.

The Emperor, who had watched it all, had smiled, sipped his wine and belched. When it was done he said he was a merciful man, for neither victim had been crucified after their scourging, which he heard was by far the worst of the penalties given under Roman law. And saying so, he and his wife and entourage had left for the Imperial palace, with faint weeping from the doomed Vestal trailing after them. None of the Imperial party paid the girl any heed.

The citizens who lived near the Colline gate at first reported loud wails from the chamber. A week later, the cries had finally subsided, and the Campus Sceleratus was silent once more.

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Dolorrex walked briskly, with an unusually taciturn Kaesa Postumia on one side, and the boy Ronicus on the other. There was little the virgin priestess and the slave-gladiator could say; perhaps the memory of the fate that had befallen the last such odd pairing was plaguing their thoughts.

It was Ronicus, with a small and hesitant glance at the imposing Dolorrex, who spoke first.

"I, I must thank you, integra," he stuttered. "For saving me."

"It was not my doing. Thank Dolorrex here," Kaesa said warmly. "If not for him, I would not have been at the forum today, and you would be in Elysium before your time."

"Fates willing, I may still enter Elysium early. But not just yet," Ronicus said. "Right, Dolorrex?"

The giant of a man gave a small smile. "It may be so, yet such thoughts are what send many to the boatman, and even more so in the arena. Do not tempt the Fates with your words, Ronicus. Their shears may cut your life-thread at the moment you least anticipate."

"I think they will," Ronicus replied. "I'm small, and not the strongest. When the games are renewed the others will slaughter me in a moment."

"Have you forgotten my words so soon, boy?" Dolorrex asked, giving Ronicus a friendly cuff that despite its gentle nature still sent the boy nearly reeling into a wall.

"Keep your feet there, Ronicus!" Kaesa called, a laugh in her voice.

Dolorrex smiled more broadly. "The Vestal speaks true, boy. My brother says you may yet be a great contender in the arena. You perceive as your faults what may be your best attributes to survive. We will see a change there, if I have a hand in it."

"Pollex Chalybis said that?" Ronicus exclaimed, astounded.

"He did," Dolerrex answered. "All you need is confidence."

"So this is how you know each other!" Kaesa said. "Well, Dolorrex, you may breathe easy – I shan't be pestering you now!"

Ronicus saw her laughing face and grinned. "Dolorrex here was the greatest of all gladiators! When he stepped in the arena, they said even the wild cats would turn tail and flee from his sight! And his brother, the lanista at the Ludus Magnus, could crush a man's head underfoot in one blow—"

"The Ludus Magnus? Right next to the Colosseum? How did you come to be a student there?" Kaesa asked with surprise.

Her query was innocent enough, but Ronicus immediately clamped his jaw shut and turned away, embarrassed. Of course – she was a Vestal, most likely chosen from the great patrician families of Rome to serve at the Temple. And the higher the rank they were, the greater the chances of them looking down upon a lowly sub-slave like himself.

Dolorrex took her expression differently, and spoke in jocular tones. "For one who I remember has no love for the blood sports, Lady, you suddenly show an interest?"

"Dolorrex—" Kaesa started, breaking off at the smirk her escort wore. "That's another debt you owe me."

"Surely not a full debt," Ronicus said, thankful for the more neutral ground. "For saving my life, yes. For an ill-timed jest, a half-debt."

"A half-debt? There is no such thing as a half-debt!" Kaesa argued.

"There isn't?" Ronicus was nonplussed. "I thought Caesar in his madness would surely have made such a thing." He smiled broadly, and flung out his arms. "If Caesar has not made one, and there should be one, then I hereby create the half-debt!"

Kaesa was speechless for a long moment. Then the corner of her mouth twitched upwards and laughter spilled forth. "Dolorrex, can we not take Ronicus with us to the Nubian wedding celebrations tonight? He is wasted as a gladiator – not half of Caesar's comedians are as amusing or witty!"

"Would that we could, Lady." Dolorrex replied, and Ronicus openly chortled.

"QUIDNAM ID REI ESSET?" a man roared.

Kaesa Postumia, Ronicus and Dolorrex all stopped in their tracks. Before them, rising to the heavens, were the walls of the Colosseum and the gates of the Ludus Magnus gladiator school. Between the gates and the trio, however, was an enormous man with an angry face.

"Pollex Chalybis," Ronicus whispered, the gigantic citizen in question striding towards them. "He's the gladiator trainer here. One of the best lanistae in the Empire, and I train under him."

"Hush," Kaesa whispered back as Pollex Chalybis came to a halt.

"What is going on here?" the lanista repeated, staring at Kaesa.

"Nothing, brother. Just escorting Ronicus and Kaesa here back home."

"Dolorrex!" Pollex Chalybis shouted. "I would think you had better sense! That senator Simius Orientus just left; can you imagine his reaction if he saw this? They nearly had me flogged alongside that Flaccus boy for lax discipline no thanks to that damned Vestal! And now you would have such folly repeated? Has your duty as a guardsman to those priestesses made you so complacent?"

Kaesa reddened in the face. Ronicus shuffled a few steps away from her, deeply perusing his sandals.

"Calm yourself, brother," Dolorrex said. "There was no indiscretion."

"Their actions would have me believe otherwise," Pollex Chalybis growled, before he relaxed. "One of my best students has crossed the Styx, and another I thought was with the boatman. Manius Simius Orientus of the Senate informed me of your judicious intervention today, Lady. You have my gratitude." He bowed to Kaesa, seized Ronicus by the shoulder, and wheeled the boy around to face the gates. "And WE will have a good talk about this, boy. Get your rest, your training starts at dawnbreak!"

"Vale, integra!" Ronicus called over his shoulder while Pollex Chalybis marched him to the gates.

Kaesa smiled. "Vale, Ronicus. Remember, Fortune favours the brave!"

Ronicus broke into a real grin, while Pollex Chalybis laughed loudly. "Truer words were never spoken, Vestalis! Vale!"

The gates of the Ludus Magnus closed with a thunderous clash, and Dolorrex turned to Kaesa.

"Lady Postumia, we must return to the Temple. If the Senate has sent a man here, then the College of Priests will surely be awaiting your arrival."

Kaesa gave a low groan. "Dolorrex, please! Must you speak to me of the Collegium now? I will have no peace of mind for the journey home!"

"My apologies, Lady," Dolorrex said. He kept his tone respectful but was unable to keep a tiny smirk from his face.

Good thing the resentful Vestal was trudging angrily ahead of him, so he managed to get away with it just this once.

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"Vesta, fave! Tibi nunc operata resolvimus ora, ad tua si nobis sacra venire licet. In prece totus eram: caelestia numina sensi, laetaque purpurea luce refulsit humus..."

They had just begun singing the twilight hymn by the time Kaesa arrived at the Temple. Leaving Dolorrex at the entryway, Kaesa darted up the steps into the sanctum where the others were, took her place in the circle, and joined in the song.

"... Ex Ope Iunonem memorant Cereremque creatas semine Saturni, tertia Vesta fuit. Utraque nupserunt, ambae peperisse feruntur, de tribus impatiens restitit una viri. Quid mirum, virgo si virgine laeta ministra admittit castas ad sua sacra manus?"

Lips and voice forming and chanting the now-familiar words of praise to the goddess, Kaesa allowed her eyes to go from face to face in the circle. She refused to look at the space where Bonita would have been.

Instead, she focused on the slim figure standing opposite Kaesa, across from the great marble basin that housed the eternally burning hearth fire. Her dark brown hair glowed under her veil, and a cloth patch covered an empty eye socket – souvenir of a foolish drunk who dared attack the Head Vestal, Virgo Vestalis Maxima, with his knife.

"...Nec tu aliud Vestam quam vivam intellege flammam: Nataque de flamma corpora nulla vides. Iure igitur virgo est, quae semina nulla remittit nec capit et comites virginitatis amat..."

Of course, it didn't matter that he remembered nothing of the assault upon his awakening in a dungeon cell. He had injured a Vestal, and so he perished. His plight received no sympathy from Didia Directa Betiliena – she had a missing eye thanks to him.

Though the circular room of the temple was quite warm, Kaesa could not suppress a shiver as Didia Directa's remaining eye bored into hers.

"...Esse diu stultus Vestae simulacra putavi, mox didici curvo nulla subesse tholo. Ignis inexstinctus templo celatur in illo, effigiem nullam Vesta nec ignis habet."

The hymn complete, Betiliena lowered her arms. Her eye flickered over the younger Vestal's form with something akin to disdain. Voice slightly hoarse from singing, she said coldly,

"Kaesa Antonia Postumia! Follow me."

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Justiana Silana Postumia worriedly paced around the twin rectangular pools that were the centrepiece of the open courtyard. She prayed to Vesta that Kaesa Antonia would be allowed to go free, that Bonita Petra Murusia was in peace, and that she would be a worthy replacement for Bonita.

Most of all, Justiana hoped she would be worthy enough for her cousin to be proud of her.

Tradition held that there be no more than six Vestals serving at the Temple at any one time, and so it had been for nearly 1000 years. Two were students, learning the ways of the Temple; two were servants, the true priestesses of Vesta; and two were elders, teaching the novices. The Vestals were expected to spend at least ten years in each role before they were allowed to leave the order, though some stayed longer of their own volition. Those who left the Temple early usually did not leave voluntarily.

However, it was rare that there were two Vestals so closely related serving at once, as great pains were taken to prevent such events. On occasion Vestals would find a distant kinswoman amongst their ranks, but Justiana, chosen by the Pontifex Maximus and inducted not a day after Bonita was buried alive, was Kaesa's first cousin. The oddity of the situation with the Vestales Postumae was not apparent until the other Pontifices pieced together their similar names and similar appearance. By then, it was too late to select another candidate, and the College of Priests didn't dare suggest to the Emperor he may have erred in his choice – respectful of the gods the College might be, but their respect for Caesar's dungeons was greater. As the newest of the Vestals, Justiana was often referred to as 'Postumia the Younger'. She didn't mind; the honour of simply being a Vestal was illustrious enough.

But now with Bonita dead, and Kaesa on trial, Justiana was terrified. Years before, her cousin had been her friend, and after Justiana was inducted she had latched on to Kaesa, who was kind enough to tolerate her. If the religious courts found Kaesa guilty, Justiana would be alone.

"And the others not even my age!" she said to herself. "Well, there'll be one if they replace Kaesa, but others are so much older than me! I'm sure they're nice enough, but they scare me, and Didia Directa is the worst..."

"Who would you be talking to, Justiana?" A voice said teasingly. "Would it be the birds, the dryads, or perhaps only the stones?"

Justiana jumped from fright, and then sagged in relief. "Kaesa!"

Grinning awkwardly, the taller Vestal received a strong embrace from her younger cousin.

"I thought they'd taken you to the Campus Sceleratus!" Justiana cried. "I kept walking and walking around the pools waiting – Marcella said I might wear away the stone beneath my feet before the night was over!"

Kaesa shuddered. "I can still hear Bonita's screams, even now."

Wide-eyed in horror, Justiana stumbled back. "They will execute you, then?"

"Gods, no!" Kaesa said with astonishment. "They told me to dress down, and stop going for so many walks, and leave off with my speech. And Betiliena said she'd be keeping me under observation for a fortnight. That's all."

Justiana looked at Kaesa's peacock-coloured silk robe, then over at Betiliena, who wore a far more extravagant midnight blue creation.

"She told you to dress down?" Justiana asked in surprise.

"Cousin!" Kaesa exclaimed. Justiana pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. It was to no avail, and when Didia Directa Betiliena struck the gong to asssemble the Vestals in the courtyard, she also had to shout for the two Postumias to please, for love of Vesta, be quiet!

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"Virgines!" Betiliena called from the steps, and the Vestals in the courtyard below her ceased their chattering. "As you know, we are to attend a most auspicious celebration this night. Prince Amanikhareqerem of Kush has taken to wife Monifa of the Nok Tribes, and with their union, bringing peace to trade routes and peoples on both sides of the Great Desert!"

Cheers sallied forth from the assembled ladies. Disputes over the safety and control of the trade routes in the Great Desert had long been a sore spot, leading to deteriorating relations and intermittent open warfare. The Nubian kingdom of Kush claimed the eastern end of the roads, with the western side held by the Nok, a loose confederation of interrelated tribes based in their city on the Jos Plateau. That each would extend their claim full through to the other end of the desert was inevitable.

Rome had intervened, and initiated the peace talks that resulted in a royal wedding. Prince Amanikhareqerem was expected to become the next ruler of Kush once his father's increasingly detoriating health wore out. Monifa was the only child of the chieftain of the Nok Tribes. The marriage was highly advantegous, uniting control of the trade routes under one house; the highly-anticipated wedding feast was the social highlight of the year.

"We will leave promptly for the Palatium. I expect all of you to uphold the honour of our proud and ancient Order!" Betiliena said sternly.

"Or Didius Directus Spurius will never let her hear the end of it," someone murmured, provoking a fresh round of tittering. But the Head Vestal had heard, and she was not laughing.

"Who said that?" Betiliena said sharply. "Who? Was it you, Marcella? Because if it was..."

"I did not say a thing, Vestalis Maxima," came the humble reply.

Betiliena ground her teeth together in a rare display of rage. "I refuse to lose face before that boor the gods cursed me to be my brother! The debacle with Bonita was shameful enough – I couldn't look him in the eye for days for all his gloating! If any of you makes even the slightest of indiscretions at tonight's gathering, I'll bring the lash down on your hides myself!"

She broke off, breathing heavily. Justinia pressed closer to Kaesa, staring at the Head Vestal in fear. Marcella was spared from having to answer when Dolorrex's voice echoed in from the Temple.

"Vestalis Maxima! The carpentum are ready for your use."

Taking deep breaths to regain her composure, Betiliena smiled (though it was really more of a grimace) and swept down the steps to the Temple. The other Vestals followed, but Justinia gripped Kaesa's arm.

"Cousin, I have never been to the revels. What do I do?"

"Smile, eat often, and drink sparingly. Best remember that; we go to many events a season. If your thirst is too great, drink water and stay away from the wine," Kaesa said. Pausing to recall any advice she might have omitted, Kaesa thought of the gold hair ornament the market woman had given her, still in her hand after all this time.

"Once you settle down, it will be just as it was at home. Here," Kaesa said impulsively, taking the comb and placing it in her cousin's hair. "You'll be fine, and you look wonderful. Now Didia Directa can lecture us both! Come, or they'll leave without us."

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Ronicus lay on his cot, staring at the wall in the dim light. The news that he'd been spared from execution by a Vestal had spread among the trainees, and for a brief time Ronicus was the most popular young man in the Ludus Magnus.

Then somebody had mentioned Bruttius and the last Vestal who had encountered one of Ludus Magnus's students. Even after a moon, the topic was a sore subject, and talk of Ronicus and Vestals rapidly died down afterwards.

He reached out, a finger tracing the letters carved into the wall by enterprising or bored students long gone from Ludus Magnus, having moved on to the Colosseum and the uncertain fates therein. It seemed like years since he had been in Judea – and he would persist in calling his home Judea, not that Syria Palaestina name the Romans insisted on using. Ronicus didn't know if he'd remember the language of his people if ever he should return home. The Romans, their customs, their Latin language, all were growing more familiar every day, a realisation that in his heart alarmed Ronicus greatly.

At least he was still allowed to pray to his god – those Christians had no such luck. With all the other long-established cultures and religions in Rome, Ronicus' faith would not make such an impact on the social order.

The scratches on the wall were a poor way to learn any language, but it was all Ronicus had to work with. Some were inspirational, such as 'Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim', or 'Be patient and tough; some day this pain will be useful to you', and 'Id imperfectum manet dum confectum erit', which meant 'It ain't over until it's over'.

Others were sobering. One said 'Forsan miseros meliora sequentur' (For those in misery perhaps better things will follow); another had written, 'Non mortem timemus, sed cogitationem mortis' (We do not fear death, but the thought of death).

And then there were the patently ridiculous, as in the case of the graffiti by the washing basin – 'In dentibus anticis frustrum magnum spiniciae habes'. One of Ronicus' fellows had once spent five minutes staring at his reflection before he was finally convinced that there was not, despite the writing on the wall, a large piece of spinach in his front teeth.

But Ronicus, with a start, found his finger was moving over the words of a very familiar phrase – 'Fortes fortuna juvat.'

"Fortune favours the brave." Ronicus whispered. Those were the same words the Vestal had spoken to him. Perhaps his god, or even her deities, was trying to tell him something?

Sighing, Ronicus let his hand fall, and tried to sleep, to forget everything that had happened to him that day.

Yet something told him that it would not be the last time he would meet Kaesa Postumia.

Far from it.

To be continued...

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Most major characters have returned from the previous chapter. Below are the new characters introduced this chapter, for anyone who hasn't figured it out, or already have and would like verification.

In Order of Appearance/Mention:

Pollex Chalybis, lanista of the Ludus Magnus (Steel Toe)

Didia Directa Betiliena, Virgo Vestalis Maxima (Dr. Betty Director)
Justiana Silana Postumia, virgo vestalis (Joseline 'Joss' Possible)

Monifa of the Nok Tribes (Monique)

Didio Directus Spurius (Sheldon Director, alias 'Gemini')

Author's Notes

In the first chapter I've changed the character of Zita Flores to Tara King, as re-watching Zita's episode made me realise that while Ron did notice Zita and went out with her, he remained oblivious to Tara.

Also, for anyone who has a background in Ancient Rome, please rest assured that I did do extensive research for this era, as well as all the rest of the historical eras I'll subsequently be visiting. I realise that Kim's name does not follow proper Roman naming conventions. (Nor does Bonnie's.) However, I had to take some small licenses with history, and I do hope you'll forgive me.

The Latin text for the Vestals' hymn seen in this chapter was taken from the poem by Ovidius. I have the English version for anyone who may be interested, and it provides insight into the creeds of the Vestals' order and why the punishment for unchaste priestesses (such as Bonnie's ancestress) was so severe.