when you gaze upon Sister Rubria I see a look in your eyes that extends beyond the love of the Goddess.’
Dragus looked down in shame.
‘You are truly wise, Mother,’ he said, ‘It is true that I am entranced by Rubria’s beauty and elegance, but I assure you I respect the Goddess and all who serve her. My intentions are honourable and I seek only to ensure her safety.’
‘I know,’ said the high Priestess kindly ‘And your patronage is greatly welcomed, but beware the tendrils of lust, Dragus. This is an affection that can never be returned.’
‘I am aware of this Holy Mother,’ he said, ‘And accept that this is a lifetime’s burden that I have to bear.’
‘The Goddess will support you, Dragus,’ she said, ‘Will you join with me in a glass of warm wine while we wait?’
Forty five minutes later, Rubria’s litter once again rested inside the outer courtyard of the Emperor’s palace. She stood for a moment straightening out her attire before walking towards the doors. Dragus caught up with her and walked at her side.
‘If you feel threatened at any time, Rubria, you must leave immediately. Do not hesitate or take any chances. I will be waiting outside these doors for you.’
‘I don’t know how long I will be.’
‘It matters not. I will be here.’
She stopped and took his hand in hers, setting his pulse racing as she pierced his soul with her gaze.
‘I am touched, Dragus,’ she said, ‘But worry not for my safety, the Goddess is with me.’
‘I hope you are right, Rubria,’ he said and watched her disappear for the second time that night.
Rubria knew at once something was wrong. The whole atmosphere of the palace was different and as she walked through its marble halls, the lack of servants was disturbing. She made her way through the audience chamber and into the corridor that led to the Emperor’s private quarters. Eventually she stood before the double doors flanked by two Praetorian Guards.
‘I am Rubria of the Temple of Vesta,’ she said.
‘You are expected,’ responded one of the guards and opened the door. She walked into Nero’s reception area and waited for the doors to close behind her. As soon as they slammed shut she made her way nervously towards his quarters. Suddenly a female slave burst out through a door and ran past her sobbing as she went. Her clothes were torn and her face bloody.
‘Wait!’ shouted Rubria, suddenly self conscious that she had raised her voice to someone less fortunate than herself.
The girl collapsed to the floor and waited for the admonition that would surely follow. Rubria approached and squatted next to her, gently brushing the girl’s hair back revealing her bruised face. ‘Please,’ she added quietly, ‘You seem to be hurt, let me help you.’
The girl looked up nervously, surprised yet dubious at the sound of a kind voice in a world of harshness.
‘Are you a Goddess,’ she murmured staring into Rubria’s beautiful face.
‘No,’ smiled Rubria, ‘Though I do indeed serve one. I too am a servant, though the Mistress I serve is Vesta.’
‘You are a Holy Virgin?’ gasped the girl in astonishment
‘I am!’ confirmed Rubria, ‘And I need to bathe your injuries.’
The girl threw her arms around the priestess.
‘Mistress, Holy Virgin of the great Goddess,’ she pleaded, ‘Please honour me with your blessing.’
Rubria glanced around. She knew that the blessing of slaves was frowned upon in the higher levels of Roman society.
‘What is your name, child?’ she asked.
‘I am known as Rose, Mistress,’ she said and altered her position to kneel in front of the Priestess, clasping her hands together in the universal gesture of prayer.
Rubria made the dedication to Vesta and marked the sign of the Goddess on the slave’s forehead. Suddenly a voice echoed across the chamber causing Rubria to jump back in fright.
‘
The slave scrambled to her feet and ran from the chamber in terror while Rubria gathered her wits and prostrated herself before the Emperor.
‘Imperial Majesty,’ she intoned, ‘Forgive me my impudence, I seek only to spread peace and harmony throughout your household.’
‘I decide when there will be peace and harmony,’ he raged, ‘And today is not such a day.
Rubria stood and looked up at her Emperor. He was draped in his Imperial purple robes and wore a golden laurel wreath on his head, albeit tilted to one side. In one hand he clutched an amphora of wine and in the other, he brandished a cane.
‘Guard,’ he shouted, ‘Bring that slave to my quarters.’ He slammed the cane down onto the marble balustrade with a force that made Rubria flinch, ‘She will learn that no-one denies the whim of the Emperor.’
‘If I can be so bold, Your Majesty, it would seem you are a little vexed today,’ ventured Rubria.
‘Hold your council, Priestess,’ he shouted, ‘I am in no mood for your oiled tongue. You will meet me in my chambers immediately and bring a fresh Amphora with you.’ He disappeared out of sight and Rubria made her way to the door that led to his private quarters.
A few minutes she stood before the drapes to his bed chamber, alongside a pair of slaves.
‘Enter!’ roared a voice and one slave pulled back a curtain while the other handed her the obligatory container of wine.
She walked into the inner chamber and stared at the dishevelled figure of the Emperor sat on his couch, staring at the floor.
‘You are late,’ he snarled.
‘I came as soon as I could, Sire,’ she said.
‘Not soon enough!’ he snapped, ‘Am I not your Emperor? All tasks should be cast aside to meet my demands.’
‘My apologies Sire,’ she said and approached the couch, stopping to collect a stool on the way. She placed herself before him, waiting for him to look up. Eventually he met her gaze.
‘Your eyes pierce me like an assassin’s blade Priestess,’ he said.
‘You have said as much on many occasions, Sire,’ she said.
‘Yet still I catch my breath every time you attend.’
‘If my appearance offends then I can only apologise.’
‘Cut the false modesty, Priestess,’ he snapped, ‘You know your gaze is like a drug to me.’ He stood up and walked slowly around the room, expanding on his comparison, ‘Intoxicating to partake,’ he said as he passed besides her, ‘Poisonous in its effect,’ he continued from somewhere behind.
She tensed at the silence that followed before jumping suddenly as his head suddenly appeared on her shoulder.
‘Yet
Rubria stood up nervously and took a few paces away from him.
‘Priestess,’ he said, throwing his arms wide, ‘It is I, your glorious Emperor. Surely you do not fear me?’
‘I only worry for you Sire,’ she said nervously, ‘I have not seen you like this before.’
‘Like what Priestess?’ he asked, ‘Intoxicated?’ Lyrical?’ he paused and leaned forward as he sneered, ‘Scary?’
‘All three, Sire,’ she said.
He stared at her again before seeming to come back to his senses.
‘Fear not, Priestess,’ he sighed, ‘My reasons for summoning you here are entirely honourable.’
‘I did not fear otherwise,’ Sire.
