wore the decorative breastplate and Hercules knot of a senior officer in the Roman army, his crimson cloak settling as he came to a halt.
“Gaius Attius Severinus at your service, Prince Vaballathus. I must say, the Imperator Aurelian is very much looking forward to meeting you.”
He smiled.
“You are looking well, highness. Let’s see if we can change that.”
Temple Trouble
(A short story set ten years before the events of Marius’ Mules)
Marcus Falerius Fronto rolled over to stare into the eyes of the girl next to him. Vibia smiled back at him, her voluptuous lips framing her perfect teeth. She languished in the bed next to him, half-wrapped in light, wispy garments that did little to hide her shape and…
Fronto swallowed and his eyes bulged dangerously.
“You’re a what?”
Vibia smiled in an astoundingly relaxed way to Fronto’s mind.
“Relax, Marcus. I’m not actually a vestal virgin.”
Fronto, still staring, allowed himself to heave a deep sigh of relief. Last night’s debauchery among the taverns in the subura had left him with a dull thumping in his head, a number of gaps in his memory of the night before and an otherwise entirely unfamiliar young lady at his side. He’d been out to celebrate his assigning to Spain, where he’d join the new quaestor, taking ship from Ostia in a few days’ time. And things had become a little blurred. He distinctly remembered losing a number of wagers and chasing a number of young women along the street with Geganius. The end of the night was still shrouded in mystery, though.
“Shit, girl! You can’t go round saying you’re a vestal. You’ll get in serious trouble, and you nearly gave me a bloody heart attack.”
He saw the amusement flickering in her eyes and growled.
“Where the hell are we, anyway? Last thing I remember was that little bar below the Tabularium.”
Vibia’s mouth split into a wide grin.
“We’re in the house of the vestals, Marcus.”
“What?”
Fronto shook his head. Was the girl deliberately trying to break his brain, or was he just plainly beyond simple understanding this morning?
Vibia sighed lightly.
“I’m the most unusual girl you’ll ever sleep with, Marcus. I was chosen late to be one of the vestals. I’m not a girl any more, despite what they all think, but I haven’t taken the vow as yet.”
Fronto frowned.
“I wasn’t aware there was a delay?”
“There usually isn’t but they had trouble finding someone quick to replace one of the priestesses who just passed on, and I was what you might call a ‘last-minute find’ by the pontifex maximus. Normally they would deliberate for a lot longer, but the public opening of the temple for the festival is in two days and they need a full complement of novices and priestesses.”
She grinned.
“I was on the way to the temple last night when you and your friend found me. I will be taking the vows in…” she frowned and tried to judge the light outside the window, “… about two hours.”
Fronto shook his head madly.
“That’s insane! Why would you do such a thing? You might not be official yet, but you might as well be. If they catch us they’ll bury you alive anyway, and they’ll whip me to death in the forum!”
He bit his lip and pulled the covers up to just below his eyes as though people could see him already. Grumbling, he pointed a finger accusingly at the girl beside him.
“You had no right to go marching around the backstreets of the city unescorted at night. You might as well have been inviting it. It’s your father that should be whipped!”
Vibia laughed a light laugh.
“For Vesta’s sake, Marcus…”
“Don’t say that!” interrupted Fronto, a panicked look in his eyes.
“Marcus, I wasn’t alone. Your friends sort of ambushed my escort and you promised to walk me on. You’re a patrician with a good name, Marcus. And as for ‘why would I do such a thing?’: well, you were fairly insistent, Marcus. I hardly think all the blame can be laid at my door, now can it?”
Fronto’s eyes were darting back and forth nervously.
“Oh shut up!”
Again Vibia laughed. Her lightness was really starting to grate on him.
“How the hell do I get out of here?”
“Do you remember how we got in?”
“Vibia,” Fronto growled, “the state I was in last night I’m lucky I woke up in Latium with two legs and not chained to some Cilician slaver and rowing for my life!”
Again that gratingly happy laugh. Fronto growled once more and slowly slid sideways out of the bed, closing his eyes and wincing until his feet fell to the cold marble with a ‘plop’.
“Where are my clothes?”
“The way you flung them off last night, they could be anywhere.”
Fronto grunted, once again vastly unhappy with his own inability to think past the present. His sister had always said that wine would be the death of him. He’d always assumed she meant through ill health rather than stupidity and girls.
“Never mind… I think I can smell them!”
Vibia laughed quietly as her erstwhile lover hunted around the small room in the shadows, the only light from the high window that he daren’t get too close to. The only noise was the gentle background hum of the forum not too distant, interrupted by the slapping of bare feet on marble.
The quiet was split sharply as Vibia snorted at the sight of Fronto standing, holding his tunic in one hand as though it might wriggle to escape while he gave a tentative sniff to the breeches in the other. He squinted and shook his head at the offensive odours that issued from the garments.
“What in the name of Bacchus did I do last night? My clothes smell like the shit-shovellers at the circus!”
Without expecting a reply and with a look of mixed disgust and fear, Fronto climbed into his breeches and pulled on the tunic. The white linen was a mottled grey and yellow colour.
“Aren’t you forgetting your underwear, Marcus?”
Fronto stared down at the floor and prodded something she couldn’t see with his foot. As she collapsed into a fresh bout of laughter, Fronto growled.
“If you would be so kind as to get rid of them for me. Perhaps you could burn them in the sacred fire? I’ve probably pissed Vesta off as much as I can anyway. I’m certainly not putting the bloody things back on. I think something’s spent the night living in them!”
He sighed as he began fastening his caligae around his ankles.
“No. I think I’ll go ‘gladiator’ until I get home and then bathe and change and hope the Gods don’t know where I live.”
Another nervous flick of his eyes.
“If I can get out of here, that is!”
Vibia smiled.
“Think of it as training. They say that Julius Caesar’s a war hero. He’s been kidnapped by pirates and caught them after. He’s won decorations. You’ll need to be on your toes if you want to keep up with him in Spain.”
