Mortuus Virgo (42 page)

‘And my son?’

‘He has the choice of a hundred women. His attention will soon settle elsewhere.’

‘I have another way,’ said Blackthorn, ‘I could just kill you all and feed you to the pigs. No one would ever know of your time here.’

‘You could,’ said Dragus, ‘But what man would risk the wrath of a Goddess as powerful as Vesta. Kill one of her Priestesses and her fury would descend upon your people like the worst storm you have ever seen.’

‘Do you threaten me, Roman?’

‘No great chief, I only seek what is best for all of us.’

Blackthorn sat back in silence, staring at the foreigner. He was afraid of nothing, apart from the gods, but as a child he had also seen the power of the Romans, slaughtering everyone before them during their invasion. He knew that Dragus was telling the truth. Eventually he spoke again.

‘Tomorrow, when the child is born, we will decide,’ he said, ‘But tonight we will drink. He threw the wine skin over to Dragus. ‘Drink deep, Roman, there are plenty more skins to drain before the sun rises.’

Dragus unplugged the stopper with his teeth and lifted the neck up to his mouth. He had played the game, the die was cast. Their fates were now in the hands of the gods, and a certain unborn baby.

----

The following morning saw the entire village gathered in silence around the cave entrance. Word had been sent that the birth was imminent and a hung-over Dragus dragged himself from the quilt of furs where he had fallen several hours earlier. He left the hut and dipped his head in a horse trough to bring himself around. There was no sign of the Chief but he followed the crowd up to the cave and made his way to the front of the throng. Blackthorn and his son were already there, neither showing any sign of the heavy drinking session.

A commotion at the cave drew their attention. An old woman came out and talked in hushed whispers to the smaller group. Two of the women rushed into the cave while another came quickly down the slope to talk to the chief, talking in a dialect Dragus couldn’t understand. When she had finished, the chief dismissed her and she made her way quickly back up to the cave.

----

Inside the cave, Rose stood to one side of the cave, waiting for the midwives to finish their work. Rubria had already given birth, relatively easily, and the sound of the baby crying was a welcome relief to all present, however, now the attention of the old women was now totally focussed on the mother. Gradually, one by one they left the Priestesses side until eventually only one was left. She looked around and caught Rose’s eye, shaking her head slightly to confirm Rose’s worst fears. She beckoned her over to the pile of furs where Rubria lay. Rose waked forward, her heart sinking and the old woman moved out of the way, rubbing the ex slave’s shoulder in sympathy as they exchanged places at the bedside. Rose fell to her knees alongside Rubria, tears flowing like rivers down her face.

‘Rose,’ continued Rubria, ‘We have come a long way you and I, and you are a free woman, But there is something I would ask of you.’

‘Anything,’ whispered Rose, almost silently.

‘The child,’ said Rubria, I want you to care for her as if she was your own. Bring her up in the ways of the Goddess. Teach her the devotions and the rituals that have been part of me for as long as I can remember. Will you do that?’

Rose nodded, and wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her shawl.

‘Of course I will,’ she said.

‘Also,’ said Rubria, weakly, ‘The child will need a father to protect her. Make an honest man of Dragus and take him as your man.’

‘I am a slave, Miss, I am not sure he will see me as a suitable match.’

‘You are a free woman, Rose, and I have seen the way he looks at you,’ said Rubria, ‘But men are stupid in these matters, you will have to take the lead. Besides, the attraction seemed mutual in the darkest hours of the cold nights.’

‘You have heard us?’ asked Rose, feeling the blush starting on her cheeks.

‘Don’t fret, Rose,’ said, the Priestess, ‘You have your needs, and truth be told, there were times when I envied the protecting embrace of a man when I was afraid. Alas, it seems the mother has other plans for me.’

‘Oh, Miss,’ started Rose.

‘Wait,’ said Rubria, ‘There is one more thing you must do.’ She spent the next few minutes explaining the task to her friend before collapsing weakly back onto the firs.

Rose stood up and collected the baby from one of the women remaining in the cave. She placed her in the arms of the Priestess and pulled the linen cloth back from around the child’s head so Rubria could see her face.

Rose looked down, and though the imminent death of her Priestess was foremost in her mind, the astonishing depth of blue that stared back at her was like nothing she had ever seen.

‘She is truly blessed by the Goddess,’ said Rose.

‘Look after her, Rose.’

‘I will, Miss,’ cried Rose, ‘By all the God’s in the heavens, I promise you she will be brought up safe and in the ways of Vesta.’

‘Then I will die happy,’ said Rubria.

----

Outside the cave, the crowd had fallen silent, and Dragus sat with his back against a tree waiting to be told something. Finally, thirty minutes later, the morning air was shattered by a chorus of unearthly wails, echoing out of the cave and around the valley as all the women started their mourning.

Dragus jumped to his feet, and ran up the hill. This time, nobody tried to stop him. He burst passed the several women at the cave mouth and entered the cavern. Rose was knelt by the side of Rubria’s body, smoothing her sweat-soaked blonde hair back from her cold brow. Any colour had gone and Dragus knew the Priestess was dead. He knelt besides Rose and put his arms around her shoulders.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘The birth was too much for her,’ said Rose, not taking her eyes off the Priestess, ‘She gave everything she had but in the end was too weak.’

‘The child?’ asked Dragus, looking around.

‘She is fine,’ said Rose, ‘The midwives are seeing to her needs for now, but it is you and I who will raise her. Rubria wished it so.’ She looked up at him through glistening eyes. ‘Is that okay?’

‘She made me promise three things,’ said Rose, ‘The first two was to look after the child and you, but the third is a lifetimes work. She made me promise that I would build a Temple to Vesta, and bring up the child in the way of the goddess.’

‘What, here amongst the Celts?’

‘It is what she wanted,’ said Rose, ‘She reckons that the order of Vesta would be far more appropriate here than in any city. After all, do not even these simple people have hearths and families? 'Vesta judges not by material things but by the goodness in peoples hearts.’

‘We cannot build a Temple here,’ said Dragus, ‘It would draw the attention of the Romans and there would be too many questions. Especially while Nero lives.’

‘That is why we must build it in here,’ said Rose, looking around. ‘Right here in this cave. No one needs know except those who are devoted. All we need is enough room to establish a central hearth and space for those called to service to lay their heads. Do you think we can do that, Dragus?’

Dragus stared long and hard at the beautiful ex slave before looking around the gloomy space.

‘I have been told there is a second cavern behind this,’ said Dragus. ‘It has not been used for generations and is filled with rubble but if I can clear that, perhaps there will be enough room.’

Rose took his hands and kissed him gently.

‘Thank you, Dragus,’ she said, ‘Now, I have to leave you for a while. I need to pay my respects to her earthly remains and prepare her body for burial. You go and speak to the chief and see if it is okay that we stay here.’

‘Leave it to me,’ said Dragus and returned the kiss, ‘Henceforth my life will be devoted to you, the child and the Goddess.’

‘What about the memory of Rubria?’ asked Rose, in mild surprise.

‘As far as I am concerned,’ said Dragus, ‘There is no difference. In my eyes, Rubria embodied the very essence of Vesta herself. She was the Goddess.’

----

Dragus didn’t return to the cave and Rose spent a lonely sleepless night on his furs. Finally she must have fallen asleep for the sound of Dragus’s voice in the distance dragged her back to consciousness.

‘Rose,’ called Dragus’s voice, ‘Wake yourself. There is work to be done.’

Rose stood up, and, wrapping one of the furs around her shivering naked body, walked sleepily to the cave entrance. She squinted against the sunrise before looking down at Dragus on the clearing below.

‘About time,’ called Dragus, ‘The day is almost done.’

‘The day has just started,’ contradicted Rose. ‘Who are these people?’ She indicated the hundred strong crowd behind the ex-Centurion.

‘These,’ said Dragus, ‘Are our workforce, Rose. These are the people to build the shrine to Vesta.’

‘The chief has agreed it?’

‘Absolutely. He has seen the holiness in the eyes of the child and adopted Vesta as one of his own gods. He has given us fifty slaves for labour, Rose, the rest are volunteers. Stone workers for statues, miners to enlarge the cavern and foresters to provide the supports. He has even decreed that every villager will provide tribute of food to the Temple. I know it is not the Temple she craved Rose, but until the time of Nero is over, I will make this cave a tribute to the Goddess and Rubria herself. And, in years to come, when Nero is rotting in Hades, we will build that Temple, Rose. We will clear a hill of trees and build a Temple in the sunshine that Vesta herself would be proud of.’

Rose gasped in astonishment.

‘Is this really true’? she asked.

‘It is,’ said Dragus, ‘And the task will be led by Reynard himself. During all that time with Rubria, he became converted to the worship of Vesta.’

Dragus returned her smile and gave the signal. The huge workforce flowed past him and up the slope. For a few moments the Centurion and the slave stared at each other over the heads of a hundred workers before she had to move to allow them into the cave. The work on Britannia’s first Temple of Vesta had begun.

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