Rewriting History
Pax Romanus: Part III
By: CountessMorgana

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"On the tray stood a donkey made of Corinthian bronze, bearing panniers containing olives, white in one and black in the other. Two platters flanked the figure, on the margins of which were engraved Trimalchio's name and the weight of the silver in each. Dormice sprinkled with poppy-seed and honey were served on little bridges soldered fast to the platter, and hot sausages on a silver gridiron, underneath which were damson plums and pomegranate seeds."

The Satyricon by Petronius Arbiter
Volume 2 – The Dinner of Trimalchio: Chapter 31

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The three carpentum containing the Vestals wheeled through the Roman streets. Dolorrex was at the head of the small procession, clearing the way as he usually did. Upon leaving the sanctum at the Temple prior to their departure, Kaesa and Justiana had assumed they would ride together in the last of the carpentum, as the most junior of the six priestesses.

Surprisingly enough, Betiliena had been waiting for them. It was at her insistence that Justiana be in the last of the two-wheeled carriages with Marcella, and Kaesa sit with the Head Vestal herself. The two Postumias could do nothing but obey, and now Kaesa twisted the hem of her stola in her hands as Betiliena glanced at her sideways from her one eye.

Finally Betiliena spoke. "Disciplica. You are, no doubt, wondering why I allowed you to come to the festivities when your conduct earlier merited your exclusion."

"The thought has crossed my mind, Didia Directa," Kaesa admitted.

"And what was your conclusion?" Betiliena asked. Both Vestals leaned back into their cushioned seats as their carpentum began to proceed up a steep slope while Kaesa pondered her answer.

"Based upon your words before our departure from the Temple, you did not wish to lose face before the High Priest of Apollo, Pontifex Apollonius. He would surely see the absence of any of our number as an ill reflection on your capacity as High Priestess of our sect, and act upon what he perceived."

A faint smile tugged at the older woman's mouth. "You would think so, Postumia, but my own reasons were but a small fraction of your pardon."

"What do you mean, Didia Directa?"

"Your presence at the celebrations tonight was demanded by the royal wedding party, the bride of which stated quite clearly that unless your soul was in the company of the gods and your mortal remains lying in rest, you were to attend on pain of their extreme displeasure. As well as the end of the peace between Kush and Rome, but that was merely an aside."

Kaesa bit back a laugh. "In brief, you say Monifa was most adamant?"

"She was. It would seem you have a good friend in the future Nubian queen, disciplica."

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After the washing of hands and feet as required by custom, the Vestals' entry into the dining hall did not go unnoticed. Loud voices hailed the priestesses as they proceeded to their private mensa. An adjourning table housing the members of the Collegium Pontificum was particularly vocal when Didia Directa arrived, leading the rest of the Vestals.

"Betiliena! We thought you might not be coming!" Stephanus Barrius greeted the Head Vestal warmly. A man with an eye patch snorted at Barrius' pronouncement, which Betiliena ignored.

"Why, old friend, did you really believe I would miss the greatest festivities Rome has seen this year?" Betiliena asked with a smile. "I think not! Good to see you again though, Barrius. This year's Mercuralia was a great success!"

"Of course they were!" Stephanus Barrius, High Priest of Mercury, said jokingly. "I organized them – how could they be anything but!"

"Betiliena," the eye-patch wearing man at the Collegium's table sneered.

"Spurius," the Head Vestal said equally coldly.

"In good health, I see. A bit over-dressed, wouldn't you say, sister?"

"No more than you are, brother," came the Head Vestal's answer, "since you seem well-set to outshine Caesar himself in your garb!"

Didio Directus Spurius Geminianus, High Priest of Apollo, scowled and sat taller in his purple and gold toga pulla. "At least none of my acolytes have been brought before the Collegium to answer for their actions."

"My Vestals know better than to flout the laws of our Order and Rome. I'm surprised more of your acolytes haven't realised so, with the poor example their High Priest is setting for them."

Spurius Geminianus immediately rose to his feet. "Do you mock me, sister?" he snarled. "Do you show me disrespect? I am your elder!"

"Always, brother," Betiliena hissed. "And as to respect, I do not give to those who demand what they have never earned!"

"Spurius! Betiliena!" Stephanus Barrius snapped. "Sit down! Is this the display of Roman power we give to the Nubians?"

"Of course not, Barrius," Betiliena replied, glaring at her brother. "This isn't over, Spurius."

"By all means," Spurius Geminianus answered icily as he resumed his seat.

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In the interim, Kaesa Antonia had watched the bickering Directii apprehensively when a loud call of her name broke in. The Vestal looked about her, eyes finally alighting on a table draped in white linen where a pair of dusky-skinned people sat, the woman waving vigorously to get her attention.

"Kaesa!" the woman shouted. "Kaesa, come sit over here!"

The man beside her was astonished. "My dear, is that allowed—?"

"She's a Vestal, of course she is! And if she isn't, who's going to reprimand us? Kaesa! Right here!"

"Monifa!" Kaesa finally reached the high table where Monifa and her new husband sat. "You look beautiful! Almost like Nefertiri herself!"

Monifa reached up to pat the traditional Nubian headpiece she wore. "Well, this certainly helps the resemblance. It seems like an age since that day at the Basilica's shops!"

"How could I forget?" Kaesa Postumia remembered well the day she met Monifa of the Nok Tribes. "The merchants at the Tabernae Novae must be rich!"

"Here we go – all talk about clothes and jewels!" Prince Amanikhareqerem grinned.

The two women laughed. "We were browsing the stalls at the Basilica Aemilia," Monifa explained to her husband, "when we both saw the same bolt of silk at a textile merchant. We reached out for it at the same time—"

"You were more than welcome to it," Kaesa broke in, blushing.

"Hush, girl, I'm telling the story! So there was the usual 'you go take it' 'no you go ahead' act from the both of us before I went for the scarlet over the peacock silk." Monifa took in Kaesa's ensemble at that point. "Of which you seem to have bought after all."

"I didn't buy it," Kaesa admitted.

Monifa looked up sharply at that. "Are you saying—?"

"I didn't steal it either! It was a gift from the merchant," Kaesa confessed. "Apparently I saved his nephew from being thrown off the cliff rocks five moons ago."

"You and your rescuing," Monifa shook her head. "Between those fortunate souls and their families, I would think half of Rome were indebted to you! I wish I were in your place, Kaesa; I'd never want for anything!"

"I wish that as well," Prince Amanikhareqerum said. When his new wife and her friend looked at him in surprise, he explained, "With the way you spend, I have the strangest feeling you'll be bankrupting the royal treasury in a sennight."

"I'll keep an eye on her, if you'd like," Kaesa offered, taking advantage of the moment to study Monifa's groom. Tall, young, not particularily lacking in looks, and the build of a soldier as befit the heir to the kingdom of Kush.

"A generous offer, Vestalis, but I'm afraid I must decline," the prince said. "Nothing save a lack of gold can stop Monifa in a vendor's forum. I am resigned to my fate."

Kaesa giggled – she liked this young man, and his dry wit. He seemed to suit Monifa well. Monifa herself winked at Kaesa before turning back to Amanikhareqerem. "We're still going to talk about clothes and jewels, husband," Monifa warned. "Over your protests, of course."

"That doesn't bode well. Shall I make an early bid to escape?"

"Hmm. Wait until they serve dessert."

"In other words, I'm stuck here?" Amanikhareqerem looked horrified. "For the entirety of the feast? With no reprieve? The gods are surely not so cruel!"

"Afraid so. Live with it." Monifa quipped, turning back to her friend.

"Women." The prince grumbled good-naturedly as slaves brought out the first dishes of the banquet. "Will you at least cease your conversation long enough to eat? Or do you have some strange and rare power to dine and talk all at once?"

An olive chucked harmlessly at his head was the only reply.

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"A toast!" the Emperor shouted. So far during the banquet he had toasted to gladiators, the Colosseum, Jupiter, Juno, Minerva, the whole Roman pantheon, the Jews, and his wife's handmaiden Addinia Linnia, which said wife found rather interesting.

She drummed her fingers on the polished table in an irate tattoo, hoping to convey her irritation with her husband's remark. "Addinia?"

The attendant in question could almost feel her face redden. Caesar had toasted her? Oh, this was not good. At the edge of her peripheral vision, the Augusta noticed the flushed visage, and resolved to investigate the matter once the Nubian royal couple had retired for the night.

"More wine!" Dracus Maximus bellowed, red-faced as he waved his cup in the air. "More wine, I say!"

Gordia Femina raised her eyebrow. More wine? With the rate he was going, she would have to call in the guards to drag his drunken carcass to his rooms by the night's end. A fine example Caesar was displaying of Roman customs and etiquette – the Nubian delegation was staring at the Emperor with expressions ranging from amusement to annoyance to outright disgust.

"More wine!" Her husband shouted yet again. A slave hurried over with a full pitcher and set it on the table deferentially. Gordia Femina knew what would come next, and sighed.

"Addinia!" she called to her attendant woman. "A word."

The golden-haired Addinia Linnia was quick to obey the command. "My lady?"

"Over here," Gordia Femina ordered, directing her maidservant so that the girl was leaning over the couch from behind it, and between her and Caesar.

Just in time. The Emperor, having refilled his cup, took a great swig and waved his cup again. Wine splattered on the table, in the dishes, and over Addinia's perfectly coiffed hair and immaculate stola.

"Oh!" The servant gave a cry of consternation. Gordia Femina smirked.

"Thank you, Addinia. You're dismissed," the Augusta said airily, waving her dismayed attendant off.

Addinia gave her a look that was half-rage, half-scorn and did as she was told. Gordia Femina frowned. If there was one thing she couldn't tolerate, it was dissension in the ranks.

"Scribe!" she called. "Where are you? Scribe!"

"I'm here, Augusta," came a voice.

"Oh, there you are. Take this down – that for displaying discontentment as a result of performing her duties, the attendant woman Addinia Linna is hereby granted ten lashes. By order of the Augusta, Furia Gordia Femina, ante diem Kalends Iunius."

"'... Gordia Femina, the day before the first of June,'" the scribe muttered aloud as he wrote on his ever-present diptych.

"And scribe, add a reminder to look into any of Addinia's subservient activities."

Nodding, he glanced at the lady. "Will there be anything else, Augusta?"

"Not at the moment. Dismissed," Gordia Femina told him, sipping from her own wine cup.

What wouldn't she give to rule the Empire openly, instead of using her damned husband as a puppet to further her goals...

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As dessert and drinks were served, and dancing began, a small huddle of Senators, patricians, Pontifices and others of high rank gathered by the veranda. They were not discussing the new Nubian alliance, nor were they speaking of the battles in Brittanica, nor the latest complaints from the plebeian ranks in their bid to gain more concessions the patricians had long restricted to their own class.

What they spoke of could very easily cost them their lives if word reached the wrong ears: Overthrowing Dracus Maximus for the good of Rome.

"It is absolutely necessary! He has all of the worst traits we feared may rise again – Nero's madness, Caligula's lust – but in one man!" Stephanus Barrius said. "We ought to have killed him years ago."

"Deposing Caesar is one thing," Manius Simius Orientus mused. "Replacing him will be an entirely more delicate matter."

Stephanus Barrius scoffed. "Because of the Augusta?"

"Not quite. Should Caesar fall, Gordia Femina will be powerless. Ever since her marriage there has been no sign of an heir."

"Perhaps Juno saw fit to strike her barren," Stephanus Barrius pondered.

Manius Simius shrugged eloquently. "Had the Augusta borne a son, our plan would be in ruins, for she would surely seize power again as a regent. Her control will only last as long as her husband is alive. Once he is dead, she will be ousted by the people – their dislike of her is palpable in some circles."

"Caesar's successor must be a legitimate relative in the male line, no matter how distant," a patrician stated. "The people will never accept anyone else."

"What about his cousin, Edlectus?" Another senator queried.

The others stared. "Who?" Manius Simius asked.

"Edlectus. You know, that tall man with the ridiculously long hair, poor speech, and penchant for racing in the Circus Maximus – and outside of it, if I remember. Nearly killed Lucius Flavius once with his speeding chariot."

"Ah, him," Manius Simius said in a tone of great disgust. "Yes, I recall him. He's dead."

"What? I had not heard of this!" said the patrician. "When?"

"Surely you didn't know," Manius Simius said coolly. "It only happened six months ago."

"I was in Iberia six months ago," the patrician retorted.

"And I was in Neapolis," the other senator put in. "So he is dead?"

"Killed by a speeding chariot," Stephanus Barrius affirmed.

"Well, when a man tempts the Fates like that..." The patrician paused to think. "Wasn't there another? His father died some time ago, but the son, he should nearly be of age now. Felix?"

Manius Simius' face lit up in recognition. "Ah! You mean Decius Julius Renatus Felix!"

"That's the one."

Stephanus Barrius scowled. "He's a cripple."

A man in a praetor's robe frowned. "I thought our custom was to drown deformed babes at birth."

"He wasn't born a cripple." Stephanus Barrius snapped. "Boy lost the use of his legs as a child in his sixth summer. He was in the Forum with his father when struck from behind by a speeding chariot. Killed Renatus Sulla, but Felix lived."

"Do the Fates insist on plaguing Caesar's kin with speeding chariots?" the praetor exclaimed in disbelief.

"It would seem so," Manius Simius said dryly.

"Must we kill him?" a consul asked. "Before he was Caesar, he was my friend. If there is a chance—"

"There is no chance of redemption from this man," Stephanus Barrius broke in. "I am sorry, Postumius, but we cannot allow him to live."

"Then I cannot take part in this," Iacomus Timothus Postumius Ventor said quietly. "I will not aid you, nor will I seek to stop you. Do what you will without me."

Manius Simius scoffed. "You will not do what is right? Caesar endangers Rome."

"You are not a father, Simius," Postumius Ventor said with conviction. "I will not do what will endanger my sons or wife, be it right or wrong."

"Now see here—" The praetor began angrily, but Stephanus Barrius broke in.

"The Vestal is truly your daughter, Postumius," he said. "Go."

Postumius Ventor nodded his thanks and left the group, disappearing into the crowd of revellers.

"Will he hold to his silence?" Manius Simius questioned Barrius.

"I have known Postumius Ventor for many years. He had never failed to keep his oaths. He will not betray us now."

"If I may speak, Manius, Pontifex?" It was the other senator from earlier. "I also do not wish to remain."

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" the praetor demanded. "You are wasted as a senator, Acarinus – go back to studying your insects!"

"I intend to. I do not believe I can proceed further down this path than I have already. I hold no love for Caesar, but I am a scholar, a man of peaceful interests, not of action. The less in your circle when the time draws nearer is better for us all."

Barrius eyed the small man with no small amount of distrust. "And you will—"

"Keep my silence? Yes. I have no wife or children to tell, and my servants are deaf-mutes all. I will retire to Neapolis until word of your success." Acarinus bowed to the others before he too was lost in the throng below.

"This won't work with only four of us, you realise that?" the praetor said after a moment.

"I could ask the Directii..." Stephanus Barrius mused. "If there are no objections. Manius? Rodeghan? Sennius?"

"I have none," Vallius Rodeghan said.

Servius Sennius the Elder was intrigued. "That just may work."

For a patrician, Manius gave a very plebeian-like snort as he glanced at the bickering siblings. "Oh, they'll work. If they don't kill each other first."

Stephanus Barrius shrugged, turning away to look out at the city below. "Fine. Who's going to ask them?"

Manius had a very pleasant smile on his face as he replied, "Thank you for volunteering, Stephanus. They are your fellows in the College of Priests, after all. Should you need us, I will be at the wine pitcher."

"And I with the musicians," Rodeghan said quickly.

"And I will be lecturing my son," Sennius the Elder said, strolling away. "Good luck!"

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Before a nonplussed Stephanus Barrius could make his move, a stranger appeared at the doorway, dressed in the travel-stained clothes of a tribunus laticlavius, the second-in-command of a legion. The wedding couple froze, and the guards stepped forward to stop the man, only relenting when Caesar raised a hand. With all heads turning to follow his progress the military officer made a beeline for the Imperial table, where he bent and muttered quietly in Dracus Maximus' ear.

The Emperor started, and stared at the newcomer. "You are sure of this?"

"I have just journeyed from there, Caesar, without rest, to ensure the news reached you before anyone else."

"You have Caesar's utmost thanks, Primus Gordio Herculius," the Emperor said, speech only slightly slurred as he staggered to his feet. By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the unfolding events. Dracus Maximus beamed and announced,

"Glad tidings from the East! Our armies have won a great victory over the cretins at Sparta!"

Primus Gordio Herculius shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, Caesar, it was the Spartans at Crete."

The Emperor glared. "That's what I said!" After a brief moment of lost equilibrium, where he almost toppled into the fruit platter, Dracus Maximus continued.

"Scribe! Make a note of this." When the diptych was opened and ready, Caesar shouted,

"It seems we in Rome have much to celebrate! We have had our most illustrious victories in Britannica, and our most recent victories over the Spartan cretins, and this most beneficial and auspicious marriage." Here Caesar sloshed his wine cup in the direction of the wedding party, drenching Gordio Herculius as a result. "Ah. Sorry, brother.

"In honour of these events, I hereby declare, effective immediately, ONE HUNDRED DAYS OF GAMES!"

To be continued...

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And so it begins. As usual, anyone returning will have been mentioned previously, and anyone who plays any sort of role in this narrative has finally been introduced and given page space. For the new characters this chapter – and there are quite a few more than usual:

In Order of Appearance/Mention:

Didio Directus Spurius Geminianus, Pontifex Apollonius, High Priest of Apollo (Sheldon Director, alias 'Gemini')
Stephanus Barrius Scipio, Pontifex Mercurius, High Priest of Mercury (Mr. Steve Barkin)

Monifa of Kush (Monique)
Addinia Linnia, attendant to Gordia Femina (Adrenna Lynn)

Manius Simius Orientus, senator (Monkey Fist)
Servius Sennius the Elder (Senor Senior Sr.)
Vallius Rodeghan (King Wallace of Rodeghan)

Iacomus Timothus Postumius Ventor (Dr. James Timothy Possible)
Aulus Aelius Acarinus, senator and insect scholar (Dr. Acari)
Primus Gordio Herculius, Caesar's brother-in-law, brother to Gordia Femina (Hego)

Edlectus, Caesar's late cousin (Motor Ed)
Decius Julius Renatus Felix (Felix Renton)