Mortuus Virgo (15 page)
Authors: Kevin Ashman
‘Don’t say a word,’ she snarled as she passed.
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The following morning they returned to the airport and boarded a small plane to Athens. A few hours later they were stood on the quayside of the docks. India was reading a timetable on a chalkboard, written in Italian, Greek and English.
‘Next ferry is at one,’ she said. ‘Seems like we’ve got a bit of a wait.’
‘No we haven’t,’ said Brandon, ‘There’s our boat.’
She looked across and groaned as a battered fishing boat chugged alongside the harbour wall.
‘Don’t you guys ever travel in style?’ she asked.
‘Told you,’ he said, ‘Grey man.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she sighed, ‘Whatever!’ She lifted her holdall and walked down to the jetty, closely followed by Brandon with his rucksack.
‘It stinks,’ said India as she stepped off the boarding plank. ‘Why can’t we take one of those?’ She pointed at one of the several cruise liners moored in the dock, preparing to disgorge their tourists into the city.
‘This will do fine,’ he answered and passed the bags to the boat’s captain. As soon as they were in, the boat chugged out of the harbour and into the blue waters of the Aegean Sea. India and Brandon sat at the rear of the boat in the shade of a makeshift tarpaulin shelter.
The Captain came back towards them with a couple of cans of coke.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said in broken English, ‘The journey will take about three hours. Stay out of the sun.’ He turned and returned to the cabin.
They made small talk for an hour or so until the subject returned to Samothrace.
‘So, what do you expect to find on this island?’ asked India.
‘Don’t know,’ said Brandon, ‘But all the clues we have, point there. Sometimes the best way to get relevant information is to visit the scene itself. You saw that for yourself in Victoria.’
‘I suppose so,’ she said.
‘So, tell me about Troy,’ said Brandon, ‘If it was invincible, why doesn’t it exist today?’
‘Well,’ said India, warming to her favourite subject, ‘It was built about two and a half thousand BC and lasted until Greece sacked the city about twelve hundred BC.’
‘This, I know about,’ said Brandon. ‘The Greeks built a giant wooden horse and left it outside the gates of Troy. But inside, it contained armed Greek warriors, correct?’
‘That’s right,’ she said, ‘They waited until the city was asleep, and, after dropping from the wooden horse, opened the gates of the city from the inside, letting the Greek army in. What few people realise, is that several days earlier, Diomedes, a Greek warrior, crept into the city and stole the palladium. Don’t forget, the legend was, that as long as the Palladium was in the city, then it could not fall. With the theft of the Palladium, the city was vulnerable.’
‘Just because of a wooden statue?’
‘They believed in these things,’ said India. ‘Anyway, whatever the reason, the city fell a few days later and almost everyone was slaughtered. Some escaped but to all intents and purposes the city was wiped out. After a ten year siege, it was a great victory for the Greeks.’
‘Ten years? It wasn’t that long in the film!’
‘Don’t take the piss Brandon,’ she said, ‘These were real people and real events. Not a vehicle for Brad Pitt’s career, gorgeous as he is.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘Anyway, that’s all very interesting. What about Samothrace?’
‘The records are a bit hazy there,’ she said, ‘It seems the cult of the great mother on Samothrace continued to grow from strength to strength. Over the centuries it became a great place of worship and many famous people visited there to become initiated, and that’s where Phillip the Second of Macedonia met his bride to be in 356BC.’
‘Hence the link,’ said Brandon.
‘Hence the link,’ confirmed India. ‘Not much, I know, but a historical fact linking Samothrace with our murderer.’
‘Well,’ said Brandon, ‘We’ll be there soon enough, I’m going to get some kip.’ He lay down on the deck and tilted his sun hat over his eyes. Let me know when we arrive.’
‘Yes, sir,’ murmured India sarcastically and dipped into her bag to pull out the tourist guide to Samothrace she had picked up in Athens. Two and a half hours later she shook Brandon’s shoulders.
‘Brandon, wake up,’ she said, ‘You have got to see this.’
Brandon got up and sat on the bench alongside India, gazing at the amazing sight of the island rising majestically out of the blue Aegean sea. The volcanic shape dominated the horizon and even from this distance they could see it was lush with green vegetation. Halfway up, it carved through a white halo of mist, formed by its own microclimate and the whole place screamed mystery across the water.
‘Truly a place of the god’s,’ whispered India in awe.
‘More like Jurassic fucking park,’ answered Brandon and ducked to avoid the half hearted slap from his colleague.
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Rome 64 AD
The fires had been burning across Rome for two days and Rubria was still locked in the tower with Nero. The Emperor’s mood swung from lyrical to savage as he alternately serenaded Rubria with his lyre or violently raped her, depending on his mood. Her face was swollen from the beatings and the once pristine white robes were grubby and bloodstained. Her hair was unkempt and her face dirty from the long dried tears. She lay curled into a ball in the corner, her hands tied tightly around a heavy table leg.
‘Beautiful,’ said Nero staring out at the flames raging across Rome, ‘Won’t be long Priestess, and the rebuilding can begin. A new era of magnificence, the likes of which has never seen. It could have all been yours, Rubria. Why did you have to spoil it all?’
Rubria didn’t answer.
‘It matters not,’ said Nero. ‘There are countless who will gladly consent to be my Empress. I have my choice of women or boys, married or chaste.’ He glanced sideways at her ominously, ‘Willing or not!’
‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘Let me go. You have had your way; please allow me to return to the temple.’
‘Back to the Temple?’ he laughed, ‘Why? You know as well as I that you have no future there. The Priestesses must all be Virgins. As soon as the Pontifex maximus find out you have lain with a man, your only future lies beneath the paviers of the Campus Sceleratus.’
‘You raped me,’ she said, ‘They will understand.’
‘And who do you think they will believe,’ asked Nero. ‘A mere girl, who has been pestering me for months or their glorious Emperor. Sorry, Rubria, your future has become somewhat limited, and, to be honest…’ He grabbed her chin in his hand and forced her head up to look at him. ‘It’s not even as if you were any good.’
A knock came on the door and Nero answered without looking up.
‘Go away, I am busy.’
‘Sire,’ came a voice, ‘You are needed, there is a problem.’
‘What problem?’
‘The fire is getting out of control. It threatens the Palatine.’
Nero looked up in concern.
‘The palace?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Sire, the Vigils are fighting the flames as we speak.’
Nero walked over to the door and withdrew the bolt.
‘How has this happened,’ he asked.
‘The wind changed, Sire, the whole hill is threatened, Caligula’s palace, the Domus, even the Forum is at risk.’
Nero glanced at Rubria.
‘What about the Temple of Vesta?’ he asked, ‘Does it lie in the fire’s path?’
‘No Sire, it would seem the Temple is safe.’
‘Hmm,’ said Nero, ‘I am not sure that is a fair situation. Why do our humble citizens suffer yet the sisterhood escapes the fire? Look at the situation again, soldier,’ he said, ‘Next time you report it would be better for you if I heard the Temple had burnt to the ground. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Sire,’ said the soldier.
‘Good. Make sure you do. Now, gather the men and concentrate on saving the palaces.’
‘Yes, Sire,’ said the Centurion and Rubria heard him running back through the marble hallway.
‘Oh dear,’ said Nero, sitting back down next to her and peeling an apple with his knife, ‘It would seem that even if I were to let you go, there is nowhere for you to go. Or at least, there soon won’t be. However, that is irrelevant. You see, Rubria, unfortunately, I can’t let you leave here alive. Even though I am destined to be a God, there are some who would frown on your seduction, and, whilst I do not answer to them, it is an irritation I could do without. So, in a few hours, while I am becoming the saviour of the city and spend untold fortunes on saving my people, you, my dear Priestess, will be having a meeting with an assassins blade.’ He stood up to leave. ‘Listen to that, Rubria,’ he said, indicating the noise from the city below. ‘The sound of my people, begging for my help, and who am I to deny them. Goodbye, Priestess, Don’t bother screaming, no one can hear you up here. But worry not, you won’t be alone for long. The next person you see, will also be the last.’ He paused before finally adding. ‘When you greet your Goddess, Rubria, give her my love.’ He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Rubria stared after him in horror, struggling to make sense of the last few minutes. It was not the fact that she was to be killed that worried her but the fact that the Temple was at risk. Her imagination worked overtime as she imagined her fellow Priestesses, unaware of the danger they were about to face. She had to warn them and started to struggle against her bonds.
For half an hour she pulled and strained against the bindings on her wrists, even chewing on them to try to bite through. Finally, realising that she was fighting a losing battle, she realised she had no other option, and, though Nero had said it would be futile, she started to scream for help.
For an age no one came and finally her cries became weaker as her strength failed, until she fell silent once more. The sounds of the panic in the streets filtered into her room, and Rubria realised her life had come crashing down around her. Her chastity had been torn from her in a brutal assault by the Emperor, the Priestesses of Vesta were in danger, and more than that, the holy relics of the Temple were at risk. She sobbed quietly as she contemplated the tragedy that was befalling Rome.
A noise from the door made her look up, and she gasped, as she realised that it was being unlocked. She stared as it eased inward, expecting to see the looming figure of the executioner, come to deal Nero’s judgement. It had only opened a few inches when a tiny hand gripped the edge, pushing it further in and a tiny feminine face peered nervously into the room.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘Miss, are you in here?’
Rubria caught her breath as she recognised the slave girl she had blessed a few days earlier.
‘Rose?’ she asked, ‘Is that you?’
‘Oh, Miss,’ said the girl as she noticed her in the gloom, ‘What has he done to you?’
‘Rose, quick, come here. You have to get me out of here, there is little time.’
The slave ran to Rubria’s side and struggled with her bonds.
‘Quickly,’ insisted Rubria
‘They are too tight, Miss,’ she said, ‘I will get a knife.’ She ran from the room and Rubria waited in fear.
Eventually she heard footsteps approaching once more but her initial relief was cut short as she realised the footsteps were slower, heavier, and more considered. The door flung open and Rubria looked into the face of a giant black man dressed in a white toga.
‘Who are you?’ she asked nervously.
‘You know who I am,’ sneered the man.
‘The executioner,’ she said simply.
He nodded and walked slowly towards her, drawing a blade from a sheath beneath his robes.
‘Wait,’ she said, ‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘Oh but I do,’ he said, ‘My Master has decreed it.’
‘But, you don’t understand,’ she said desperately, ‘I can make it worth your while. If you release me I can get you money.’
‘I have no need of money lady, ‘My Master ensures I want for nothing.’
‘Please, you have to listen,’ she said, as he drew near, ‘There is more at stake here than just my life. The Temple of Vesta is at risk.’
He stared at her, unmoved.
‘Your Gods hold no sway over my life lady, and my Gods forsook me a long time ago. Nothing you say will change your fate. The only question is, do I enjoy your body before my blade cuts your undoubtedly beautiful neck?’
Rubria’s eyes welled with tears.
‘Please,' she begged, 'I care not for myself. Have your way if you must, but please, you must release me. I have to get to the temple.’
The executioner grinned an evil smile.
‘Enough talk,’ he said, ‘This is what is going to happen. First, of all I will cut those robes from your back, the better to see this beautiful body I have heard so much about. Then I will show you what you have been missing all these years as a Virgin. Your death is inevitable, lady, but the manner of dying is in your hands. Respond warmly and I promise your death will be painless and quick. If you are cold, then you will die in a way you cannot even imagine. Trust me, lady; I know a thousand ways to kill you.’