The Raven and the Rose (32 page)

Larthia shot him a grateful glance. “When does the trial begin?” she asked.

“The notice of the hearing is posted in the forum,” Verrix said. “As soon as the apparitor announces that it’s noon they’ll bring her in from the priest’s house.”

Larthia put her head against his shoulder and he drew her closer, kissing her hair.

“Is all of this my doing?” she whispered. “Should I have discouraged her, prevented her from meeting him here?”

“Shh, don’t blame yourself. You could not have stopped them, no more than you could have stopped what happened between us. Some things are just meant to be.”

“
Destinata
,” Larthia said.

“Yes.”

“It seems strange to hear a Gaul talking about fate,” she added, smiling sadly.

“Why? Did you think it was a Latin concept?”

“Give Margo the poison,” Larthia said suddenly, stepping back from him. “She’s Julia’s slave, she’ll be with her until the end. Margo will smuggle it to her.”

“Are you sure she will help?” Verrix asked.

Larthia nodded. She was sure.

“Do you think you should get ready to go now?” Verrix said gently.Larthia put her hand to her mouth again. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” she said. “I wish none of this were happening.”

“You must go. It’s your last chance to see your sister,” he replied. “Be brave for her.”

“I’m not brave.”

“Yes, you are. Nobody knows that better than I do. Now go.” He pushed her toward her bedroom and, with a final glance over her shoulder at him, she left.

Verrix looked after her, his blue gaze somber.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

The spring sun shone brightly as Julia was led from the fanum down to the rostrum erected that morning to serve her hearing. On either side of her strode the Spanish guards who had stood outside her cell at the priest’s house. Completing the little procession were Sura, the pontifex, and Livia Versalia, in the full ceremonial robes of the
virgo vestalis maxima
. Waiting for them on the rostrum was Mark Antony, who as Consul would make the final decision regarding Julia’s fate.

The crowd of civilians in the forum was restive, waiting for the show to begin. To a population which thrived on the bloody spectacle of gladiators fighting to the death and captured enemies being torn apart by wild beasts, the prospect of a virgin sacrifice was similarly enticing. And the fact that the virginity was the issue only added spice to the mix.

The rest of the Vestals, in their saffron robes, sat near the rostrum, about to watch their sister undergo a trial which could come to any one of them.
 

The spectators began to murmur as they saw Julia’s slight figure getting larger, coming toward them. But a curious thing happened as she arrived and they got a better view.

They fell silent. They had come to jeer but when they saw her, hands bound before her with a length of rope, golden red hair streaming over her slim shoulders, stripped of her robes and dressed in a simple white shift, they found the catcalls dying in their throats.

This was no scarlet woman, and they knew it. This was an innocent young girl who had made a choice, and she was going to die for it.

Mark Antony waited until Julia was positioned with her guards before the rostrum. Then he convened the hearing, using the ceremonial language indicated in the Lex Papia. He was about to begin questioning Julia when he heard a shout from the other end of the forum. All heads turned to see who was disrupting the first trial of a Vestal to be held in Rome since the days of the Gracchi.

Striding toward the rostrum was Marcus Corvus Demeter, the hero of Gaul and Spain, in full uniform and wearing all his medals, their gold plate glinting in the full sun.

Mark Antony stared at him. What in Hades was Demeter doing here?

Septimus saw his friend and closed his eyes.
 

Whatever Marcus was doing, it was bound to be foolish as well as dangerous.

Larthia felt a fierce surge of hope when she saw him. Maybe all was not lost yet. She reached out for Verrix at her side and squeezed his hand.

And Julia, who had thought he was dead, swayed on her feet and would have fallen to the ground had not one of guards caught her arm.

“What is your business here, centurion?” Antony demanded, his expression glacial.

“This woman is innocent of the charges brought against her,” Marcus said.

“How so?” Antony said, beginning to get the drift of what might be happening. And what had happened in the past.

“She is accused of breaking her vow of chastity, and the proof of that crime is her pregnancy, correct?” Marcus said.

Antony nodded briefly, making a gesture which indicated, go on.

“She did not break her vow, to do so requires consent. She is pregnant because I raped her, and is therefore absolved of guilt, according to the Lex Papia.”

A cumulative gasp, like a rush of wind, rose from the crowd. Their celebrated soldier, Caesar’s favorite, had forced himself on this slip of a girl, this icon of the state? It was too scandalous, too odious, to be true.

Julia watched Marcus, tears running down her face, so full of love for him that she felt as if they were alone in the midst of this crowd. She understood his intent immediately; he was attempting to sacrifice himself for her. The penalty for cohabitus for a man of his stature might be exile to Illyria or a sentence to the galleys or the North African mines.
 

But the penalty for raping a Vestal was always death.

If the tribunal believed him, she would live and Marcus would die.

Antony looked at Julia. “Is this true, Julia Rosalba Casca?” he asked.

The crowd was mesmerized; a falling leaf would have resounded in the forum like a gong.

“No,” she whispered, and then, in a louder, carrying voice, “No!”

“Julia, don’t do this!” Marcus shouted.

“Silence!” Mark Antony said to him. He looked back at Julia. “Continue,” he said.

Julia drew herself up to her full height and said in a ringing voice, “I take full responsibility for my condition. I went with Demeter willingly and would do so again.”

Marcus bowed his head in defeat.

“Seize him!” Sura shouted to Septimus and Drusus Vinicius, who were standing at the forum entrance.

Septimus looked at Antony, who sighed, then nodded reluctantly.

As the two tribunes marched toward Marcus he bolted and dashed to Julia, drawing his sword from its sheath and slashing her bonds.
 

“Run!” he shouted.

 
The Spanish guards reached for her but she eluded them, throwing herself into Marcus’ arms.

“I love you, I love you,” she sobbed, as he tried to push her away, urging her to flee.

The tribunes and the guards fell on them at the same time, separating them, Septimus and Vinicius restraining Marcus as the Spanish guards dragged Livia away from him.

“I will not have this proceeding turned into a circus!” Pontifex Sura called out indignantly, rising from his seat on the rostrum.

“Then change your outdated and punitive laws, old man,” Marcus fired back at him, as the tribunes held his arms. “If you didn’t keep healthy young girls penned up like castrati this proceeding would not be necessary.”

Everyone, including Sura, stared at Marcus, openmouthed with shock. No one had ever dared to speak to the high priest that way in all his years in office.

Livia looked on in horror. The last thing she wanted was to make these two miscreants sympathetic figures, and she could tell from the crowd reaction that the onlookers were feeling compassion for their plight.
 

Antony held up his hand for silence.

“Take the centurion to the Esquiline prison,” Mark Antony said. “He will be tried for his crime when the Senate has composed the warrant.”

Marcus was taken from the forum as Mark Antony said to Julia, “Julia Rosalba Casca, you stand convicted of the crime of unchastity in a Vestal, the penalty for which is death by live burial. This sentence will be carried out at dawn tomorrow at the Campus Sceleratus.” He waved his arm at the guards, who led her away.

She glanced over her shoulder once at Marcus, then submitted, walking between the two guards back to the fanum.

Larthia blinked back tears and said to Verrix, “She was magnificent, wasn’t she?”

He nodded soberly, watching the dispersing crowd, looking for Margo, whom he’d met when he took Larthia’s message to the Atrium for Julia.

“And so was he,” Larthia said.
 

“Julia’s centurion certainly doesn’t lack courage,” Verrix admitted.

“He should have killed her when he drew his sword,” Larthia said softly. “He could have spared her the agony of a slow, painful death.”

“I don’t think he’s given up,” Verrix said.

Larthia looked at him.

“She isn’t dead yet, is she?” Verrix asked.

Margo emerged from behind the train of departing Vestals, walking slowly after Danuta, her head bowed, her rounded shoulders slumped.

“There’s Margo,” Verrix said, and left Larthia, moving rapidly

through the chattering crowd until he was directly behind the Vestal slave.

“Give this to Julia Rosalba when you can,” he said, bending to speak directly into her ear.

Margo stopped short and turned to face him, her expression changing when she saw who it was.

“It’s poison,” Verrix added, as they both shuffled along with the throng. “It will kill her quickly and spare her suffering.”

Margo nodded, dropping her hand to her side, keeping it concealed in the folds of her gown. Verrix slid the vial into her palm and he felt her fingers close around it.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “My lady will be grateful.” She pushed ahead of him immediately, to put some distance between them, and Verrix dropped back, watching her disappear into the mass of humanity exiting the forum.

When you can’t do what you want, he thought, you do what you can.

* * *

Marcus lay against the dripping wall of the prison, which was carved out of living rock, and plotted his escape. Night was falling, he was disarmed and locked up, but Julia was still alive.
 

If he could break out of jail and get to the Campus Sceleratus before dawn, he might yet save her.

He sat up and looked around at his fellow prisoners. They were a collection of drunks, vagrants and petty criminals who had expressed mild surprise to find a centurion in their midst, and then gone back to sleep.

There would be no help from them. He would have to go it alone.

He glanced up as the heavily barred door fixed to the front of the cave swung open and the guard announced, “Consul Marcus Antonius to see the prisoner, Marcus Demeter.”

Marcus straightened as Antony bent to enter the cage and then crouched next to him as the gate clanged shut again.

“Well, Corvus,” Antony said, squatting on his haunches, looking around at the snoring rabble, “this was the last place I expected you to end up.”

“Can you do anything for Julia?” Marcus asked.

“I came here to help YOU,” Antony replied.

“Can you spare her?”

Antony sighed and shook his head. “That old hypocrite Sura and Livia Versalia are demanding the letter of the law. Rosalba admitted her guilt in front of the whole city, man, there’s nothing I can do.”

“I’d like to immolate that Chief Vestal on her own altar,” Marcus said darkly.

“Oh, Livia’s a bitch, always has been, but powerful. The people love those Vestals, don’t ask me why. Some mystique about virgin goddesses, Diana the huntress, who knows. I think it’s a barbaric practice, unhealthy, but I’m stuck with the Lex Papia and it says that your lady must die.”

Marcus said nothing.

“Is there anything you need?” Antony asked.

“To get out of here.”

“I can’t help you with that, but I can give you your choice of the Chaldaean galleys, the mines in Numidia, or the frozen wastes of Northern Illyria.”

Marcus looked away. He wasn’t going to any of those places; if he failed to save Julia he would kill himself.

“I’d choose Illyria,” Antony advised. “The galleys will give you one arm longer than the other, and you’ll die of heatstroke in the mines. Illyria is cold, but it has its compensations. The Yugoslav women are quite beautiful.”

Marcus looked back at him bleakly.

Antony put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

“I won’t make you feel worse by reminding you of the glorious career you threw away on this woman,” Antony said. “I was looking forward to your help in rebuilding Rome, and I will miss you, but I’m sure you know that.”

“I consider that my time with her was worth the cost,” Marcus said.

Antony smiled slightly. “Who would have thought that you of all people would turn out to be a romantic?”