The others filed out, carrying their tapers. Foslia, the last to leave, glanced back at Pinaria with a guilty look on her face before she shut the door behind her.
For a long time, Postumia stared at the flame and said nothing. At last she took a deep breath. “You may find this hard to imagine, Pinaria, but once upon a time, I was your age. I was not as beautiful as you-oh, no, not nearly as beautiful! For better or worse, Pinaria, with your auburn hair and your bright green eyes, you are an exceptionally lovely girl. But I was young, and passably pretty, and very, very vain, as only a young girl can be. I took my vow of chastity very seriously, but nonetheless, I saw no harm in adorning myself. I wore bracelets made of silver, and sometimes a necklace of carnelian that had belonged to my grandmother; I told people that I thought the red stone went very well with the red and white fillet we wear around our heads, but in fact, I thought it set off the pink glow of my cheeks. I anointed my hands and face with a scented oil that came all the way from Egypt-or so claimed the merchant who came once a month to the House of the Vestals to offer us such things.”
“The Virgo Maxima allowed this?” said Pinaria. Postumia never permitted any of the Vestals to wear jewelry or to use any sort of perfume or unguent, and while men were allowed to enter the House of the Vestals during daylight hours-never after dark-they could do so only if they had official or family business with one of the virgins. A seller of scented oils would never be permitted inside!
“The Virgo Maxima in those days was very permissive. She doted on the younger Vestals. She doted particularly on me; I was her favorite. She encouraged me. ‘How pretty that necklace looks on you, Postumia,’ she would say, or, ‘My, what lovely skin you have, so flawless and smooth!’ I can’t blame her for my vanity, but she certainly did nothing to discourage it. Nor did she discourage my flirtatious nature. Vanity leads to flirtation, you see. What good is being pretty if no one notices? And how can a girl know that she’s noticed unless she looks others in the eye? First, she accepts their admiring gazes, and after that, she accepts their spoken compliments, and after that…” Postumia shook her head. “Such behavior is dangerous for a Vestal. Very dangerous! And it all begins with the eyes. A man gazes at us, and we accept his gaze with pleasure, and that pleasure, which seems so innocent, leads us to desire other pleasures.”
Pinaria frowned. “Virgo Maxima, I don’t understand why you’re telling me this. I never wear jewelry; you don’t allow it, and even if you did, I have no desire-”
“Camillus looked at you today.”
Pinaria blinked. “Perhaps.”
“He looked at you with pleasure.”
Pinaria shrugged. “Did he? I couldn’t say whether-”
“And it gave you pleasure, did it not? That such a great man, the hero of the hour, so strong and handsome, should desire to look at you.”
Pinaria’s face grew hot. “I did nothing wrong, Virgo Maxima.”
“You returned his gaze.”
“Perhaps, but only for an instant!” Pinaria furrowed her brow. For a brief, irreverent moment, she imagined that the Virgo Maxima was jealous of the look Camillus had given her. “Virgo Maxima, surely Camillus is a pious man. No Roman is more respectful of the gods, or more beloved by them. Before the final siege of Veii, he pledged to build a grand new temple for Juno Regina, and in return, the goddess allowed him to capture the city. As well, he pledged a tenth portion of all the booty to the god Apollo-”
“I don’t question the piety of Camillus. But a pious man is a man, nonetheless. Pinaria, Pinaria! I don’t mean that Camillus himself poses a threat to you-unless you were to lead him on. The threat comes from within yourself.”
“But, Virgo Maxima-”
“Silence!” Postumia’s bosom rose and fell in a sudden access of emotion. She watched the flames until she grew calmer. “Listen to me, Pinaria. As I told you, when I was your age, I was very vain. I adorned myself. I accepted the gazes of men-and returned them. I laughed when they said amusing things. I tried to be witty in return, and when men laughed, I felt a flush of excitement. I did nothing wrong-certainly nothing that betrayed my vow to Vesta. But my behavior attracted attention.
“The year that I was elevated from novice to full-fledged priestess, a series of bad omens occurred. A goat was born with two heads. A summer hailstorm rained tiny frogs. Worst of all, one augury after another indicated misfortune on the battlefield. The people were alarmed. They wanted to know the cause. Had the military commanders failed to make proper sacrifices to the gods? Was the Pontifex Maximus at fault-had the highest authority of the state religion been derelict in his duties? Or had the priests who keep the Sibylline Books misread the prophecies and led the people astray? All these possibilities were investigated, yet no fault could be found with the performance of any of the sacred rites, and no impurity was detected in those charged with carrying out those rites. And then…the investigation turned to me.”
Again, Postumia fell silent for a long time, staring at the flame. “Do you know the penalty imposed on a Vestal who is found to have lost her virginity?”
Pinaria was barely able to speak about a whisper. “Of course I do, Virgo Maxima.”
“Then tell me.”
Pinaria swallowed hard. “If a Vestal is charged with breaking her vow of chastity, the Pontifex Maximus himself investigates the matter. A board of priests renders judgment. If they find her guilty…”
“Go on.”
“The priests strip her of her vestments. The man with whom she broke her vows is brought before her in chains, and beaten to death before her eyes. Then the priests turn their fury on the Vestal. They scourge her with whips until she can no longer stand. They dress her like a corpse, all in black, and tie her with leather straps to a funeral bier, so tightly that she can’t cry out. They place the bier upon a funeral wagon, draped in black, and the wagon is paraded through the city for all to see, just as if the Vestal were already dead and being taken to her funeral…”
“Go on.”
“They take her to a place where a crypt has been dug beneath the city wall. They remove her from the wagon, and lower her into the crypt. They seal the entrance and cover it with a mound of earth. No funeral rites are conducted for her. She is never spoken of again.” Pinaria’s mouth was so dry that she could hardly speak. “No man kills her. No man sees her die. What happens to her in the tomb is known only to Vesta.”
Postumia nodded gravely. “Who was the last Vestal to receive this punishment?”
Pinaria furrowed her brow.
“Come, come, Pinaria! Foslia would answer in a heartbeat.”
“I remember now. It was almost a hundred years ago-”
“It was exactly seventy-nine years ago,” said Postumia harshly, “in the days of my grandmother.”
“As you say, Virgo Maxima.”
“What were the circumstances? What was the Vestal’s name?”
“She was called Urbinia. The women of Roma had fallen prey to a pestilence, especially women who were pregnant; there was one miscarriage after another. The Pontifex Maximus suspected impurity. It was found that Urbinia had given herself not to one man, but two, and yet she still dared to tend the sacred flame. Urbinia was tried and found guilty. After she was punished, the pestilence ceased, and the women once again bore healthy babies.”
Postumia nodded. “Urbinia was the most recent Vestal to be found guilty of impurity and punished. But she was not the first. You come from a very old family, do you not, Pinaria?”
“Yes, Virgo Maxima.”
“A family older than the republic, older than the kings; a family that has given Roma many consuls and magistrates, many warriors and priests, and not a few Vestals. But even the most respectable families have stains on their history. It was King Tarquinius the Elder who initiated the method by which Vestals are punished. And what was the name of the very first Vestal to be punished according to that practice?”
“Her name…” Pinaria’s heart skipped a beat.
“Come, child! You know the answer.”
“Her name was the same as my own: Pinaria. An ancestress of mine was the first Vestal to be…”
“Buried alive!” whispered Postumia. She drew a deep breath. “Buried alive-that’s what they did to Pinaria, and to Urbinia. That’s what they wanted to do to me. Even now, I can’t speak of it with a steady voice.”
“But surely you were innocent.”
