Stabiae

[akje]

Shanique knows she's lived before. Two thousand years ago she was a Vestal Virgin in ancient Rome, executed for breaking her vow. No one believes her, but she knows she was buried alive in the distant past. She has the post traumatic stress disorder to prove it.

All she needs is proof that she's lived before, and that proof is buried under meters of ash somewhere in Stabiae, the last place she was with her lover Trebius before he was killed in 79 CE when Vesuvius erupted.

Enter Gabriele Bianchi, board member of a charitable foundation that funds excavations in Italy. He doesn't believe in reincarnation, but he's the key to her sanity. If Shanique can't convince him to fund excavations in Castellammare di Stabia, she'll never be rid of the nightmares about her past, and she'll never be able to leave the Stabiae of 79 CE. She must lay her lover to rest.

But did Trebius really die? Or has he come back to reclaim the love he lost thousands of years ago? Sometimes love is too strong to end with death...

Read an excerpt:

"Where are you, Trebius? It's time to eat." Kaeso shook his head and returned to the shop. "There's a bread shortage, yet when I call him to eat he's never around." Blargh. I shouldn't complain or the gods will take him from me. He's the only son I have. The only child I have left. His wife Marcia had given birth six times, but the others had died before they were toddlers.

"I hate her! I hate her, Papà!" Trebius squealed, and ran into the shop rubbing his head. A giggling little girl followed, followed by another boy who tried to hide his laughter. "All she does is throw balls at me and follow me around like a puppy!"

Kaeso turned to find three small ruffians in his shop, and laughed. "She's only eight years old. What do you expect, moppet? The balls are just filled with reeds."

"They still hurt!"

Kaeso rubbed his boy's head and ruffled his hair. "You know what this means, don't you?" When Trebius shook his head, Kaeso grinned. "It means someday you'll marry her, for the gods have an odd sense of humor."

"What?"

"Yes. That's how it was for me. The one girl who cheated at games and drove me out of my mind was the one my father doomed me to marry. The gods have an odd sense of humor, so you're doomed."

He laughed, and Trebius turned to give Livia a dirty look, which only made her giggle more.

"Never fear, Trebius. You're only ten. There's plenty of time to get used to the idea." Kaeso laughed some more, until a commotion outside caught his attention. He gestured to the children to stay inside the shop but they followed him anyway. Livia's father, Decius the wine merchant, emerged from the shop next door, and Kaeso asked him what was going on.

"An execution," Decius said, taking Livia by the hand. "One of the Vestals. That's her lectica."

A crowd gathered and followed the lectica as to a funeral, and Kaeso put an arm around his son. "Why is she charged? Was she caught in the act?"

"No, but the portents are evil. There's civil war and rebellion all over the empire, the government is having trouble with the Jews, and some zealots have pirated ships to block the grain shipments, hence the bread shortage."

"How can a Vestal be blamed for the bread shortage?"

"It's politics: someone has to take the blame, so why not Vesta? The emperor can't admit he was outfoxed by Jews. The poor outnumber the wealthy and there's resentment for the Vestals in some quarters. Riding in carriages; best seats at the entertainments; that huge mansion they live in; salaries, pensions and villas all paid for out of the treasury while the people are taxed to death to fill the coffers."

"But the payment for all that is high. Thirty years of purity, which becomes a lifetime of purity, and not of her choice. It's evil that a young girl should be so wronged."

"Don't let the officials hear you say that," Decius warned, "or you might be killed too."

The two men followed the crowd through the forum, and Trebius kept his eyes on the strange lectica. At least twice he saw the fabric protrude, as if there was someone tied up and struggling within who hit the cloth coverings from inside.

The crowds ahead made way for the lectica, clearing a wide path so as not to fall in the shadow of such a dire omen. The lectica was carried by slaves as a funeral bier, followed immediately by the friends and family of the accused. They wept loudly, while the greater mob behind them made no sound at all.

The priests led the procession down the Long Street, Vicus Longus, and the High Street, Alta Semita, to the Colline Gate at the north end of the Servian Wall, where a mound of dirt hid a burial vault built into the ground. When the lectica arrived, the priests untied the coverings and dragged forth the Vestal, who was dressed in funeral attire.

"You must listen to me! I am innocent!" she wailed, but the priests blocked her escape and pushed her to the ladder leading down into the vault. One of the common executioners grabbed her and forced her onto the ladder, and Trebius wiped his face as he watched her disappear into the vault. Once the executioner returned to the surface he pulled up the ladder, while the Pontifex Maximus uttered prayers and stretched his hands toward the heavens. When the prayers ended, the priests turned their backs on the victim and the executioners slid the stone over the opening. The stone was then covered with shovelfuls of dirt until it was indistinguishable from the rest of the embankment.

While the slaves carried the empty lectica back to the Atrium Vestae, the mourners and spectators returned to their homes. Kaeso and Decius closed their shops for the day; all business was suspended while the city was in mourning.

Trebius dried his face and whispered to his father, "Why does no one save her?"

Kaeso lowered his head. "Because it isn't done."

"Not even if she's innocent?"

Kaeso sighed. "Not even then. It would be hard to find the vault now that it's been covered up."

"Hard, but not impossible."

"No, not impossible. There are stories of rescues in the past, although I know not whether they're true. But those caught trying to effect a rescue would themselves be executed, and in most awful fashion. By flogging to death, or having molten lead poured down the throat."

Trebius rubbed his throat and pondered it. He should've dropped something where he'd stood earlier; buried something in the dirt so he could find the place again. He'd have to remember that if there was ever a next time.

For days afterward, Trebius couldn't get the doomed Vestal out of his mind, and nightmares plagued his sleep. What was she doing now? Was she dead yet? Was she hungry? Was she lonely? Was she frightened? Was she still crying?

What would one do in a sunless underground vault to kill time? The lamp burned dim and surely wouldn't burn long, and if it did, the chamber would fill with smoke and choke her. Would the girl use the lamp to set fire to herself and die quicker?

I would, Trebius thought.

Whenever a lectica passed by he turned to stare at it, wondering if that was the one. It never was as far as he knew, but lecticas seemed like funeral biers to him now.

How could Vesta be so cruel?

Even if the girl had broken her vow, it hadn't brought an end to the empire like everyone said it would. Was the empire such a fragile thing that a single girl could cause its downfall? Why did it take so many legions to build it up, and only an impure maiden to bring it down?

That's stupid.

Why did Vesta require her Vestals to be punished twice for the same crime? Wasn't it enough that the girl had been beaten before they'd forced her into the vault? Trebius had seen evidence of a scourging. Vesta herself had at least been given a choice of abstention. The Vestals were given to the goddess as children, and had no say about the course of their lives.

Each day his father led the family in prayers to the guardian spirits of their home, but Trebius began to wonder whether the gods were worthy of worship if they were evil and cruel like humans. And if they were cruel, was it safe to house them in the lararium in the courtyard? Perhaps they performed mischief instead of protecting the family, and should be cast out for everyone's safety. It was true that the servants bribed them with offerings of food and incense every night, but was that enough to keep the gods holy?

He saw omens where there were none; that his father owned six slaves troubled him. By coincidence Livia brought him six marbles; six cranes flew overhead in the morning. His mother urged Leander to cheer him up, and the boy did his best to engage Trebius in games.

"But I don't feel like playing right now." No playing and no praying.

"Your mother ordered it."

Trebius sighed, and then realized how ridiculous this must look. He was complaining that his mother wanted him to play and have fun? I'm being stupid like a girl. Still, he didn't feel like playing at the moment. "Help me with my homework instead. Bring me my tablet and stylus."

Leander cringed at the command, but hurried to fetch the objects.

Trebius slammed his fist on the table. "Argh. I meant please bring me the tablet and stylus. Feel free to bring one for yourself if you wish to draw something. You make me feel guilty just for ordering you about. You are my slave, you know, and should jump cheerfully at every command."

"Why? By what right does one enslave another? I did nothing wrong to justify my enslavement. It could just as easily have been you in my place."

Trebius was about to say something spiteful, but apologized instead. "Well, how did you become a slave?"

Leander lowered his eyes and shook his head. "I can't remember. I must have been a baby. My mother never told me before she died."

He put his hands to his eyes and wept, and Trebius blanched. It must be awful to lose your mother. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his own, and Leander had lost both parents now; his father soon after his birth, and his mother only a few months ago.

"Come, sit beside me, Leander. I mean, please sit beside me."

Leander sat down on the bench, and Trebius draped an arm around him.

"I'm sorry I've been cruel. I really don't think of you as a slave, but a friend, and I'll try to be nicer from now on. I guess you're right; it's not fair that you should be a slave and I should be free. Or anyone a slave, except criminals maybe. Here, draw something on my tablet if you wish. I know it cheers you up to draw. Will you forgive me?"

The younger boy wiped his nose on the back of his hand, nodding.

"If it were up to me, I'd free you this very minute. But I don't know how to do that."

"Your father said we could buy our freedom, and he gives us a little money each week for it. But my mother... she died before we could."

He seemed ready to burst into tears again, and Trebius wished the boy wasn't so sensitive. Greeks must be more delicate than Romans. I wonder if they have blood sports in Greece? He himself didn't like watching people get eaten by animals or fight each other to the death, but Leander took nonaggression to extremes.

I guess that makes it worse for him to be a slave then, but he could've done a lot worse than my family. Maybe Trebius could find a way to give Leander more money. By what right was Leander a slave? He was kind and thoughtful and selfless and compassionate. Treb preferred his company to any of the other boys his age, free or not. Maybe an evil god had made Leander a slave.

And that brought Trebius back to his anger at the gods. Later that night he told his father in private that he wouldn't pray anymore, for the gods were cruel and sinful.

"By what right do they rule over us, Papà? Especially when they're worse than we are."

Kaeso lowered his head, and for a moment Trebius regretted upsetting his dad. Kaeso never questioned the gods or their existence, nor even their worthiness.

"Trebius, I won't force you to pray against your will, but I myself will continue to pray, and will beg them to forgive you for your disbelief. For you wouldn't be here at all if not for the mercy of Vesta. You owe your life to a god."

"What?"

Kaeso cupped the back of his son's neck and drew him closer. "You see, we thought we'd never have a child. Your mother carried baby after baby, sometimes losing them in the womb and sometimes in infancy. We did everything the doctors and sages recommended to keep them healthy and safe, but every child grew ill and died. We made offerings to every deity from Juno to Cunina, but they all failed us."

"There. You see, Papà? That's what I mean."

"Finally, we turned to the virgin mother. During Vestalia your mamma walked barefoot, with hair unbound, to the sanctuary and made a large offering of money and food. The Virgo Vestalis Maxima assured us we had Vesta's blessing and that the Vestals would pray on our behalf. Your mother brought home some of the sacred fire, and we used it to make a small sacrifice at home that night. We slaughtered a chicken and burned it in the hearth for Vesta. Every day we tossed bread in the fire and prayed for you to come to us, so you see? You were a miracle. You were the first child to live beyond a few years, and so we've babied and pampered you. You've had the best of everything, your own slave, the best schooling, the fanciest clothes and toys. We denied you nothing, for we were so grateful to have you and didn't want Vesta to think we didn't appreciate her gift."

Trebius looked down at his shoes. Argh. I'm such a heel. "I'm sorry, Papà. I didn't mean to be ungrateful."

"It's all right, moppet. But to turn against Vesta now after all she's given us would bring disaster to this household. Is it wrong for the gods to have feelings like ours? No one likes an ungrateful wretch who takes all the blessings but gives nothing back in the way of service. It makes the gods angry."

"But Papà, why do the gods do evil things when no one's been evil to them? Why did they let those priests bury that Vestal if she did nothing wrong? Why did they make Leander a slave and kill his parents? Why do the gods punish good people for no reason?"

Kaeso pressed his forehead to Trebi's and closed his eyes a moment. "That wasn't the gods. Those things were done by wicked men. When you're older I'll tell you about it, but for now you must promise me you won't speak of this again. Not to Leander, not to anyone. If the wicked men took you from me I wouldn't be able to live any longer. It would kill me, Trebius."

Trebius nodded, and his father ruffled his son's hair before heading to the tablinum, his office, where he did his books.

Trebius sat a moment, thinking, and then went to the shrine in the courtyard. After a short prayer begging the gods for forgiveness he offered them some wine, and it seemed the pax deorum, the harmony between humans and gods, was restored. In a few days he forgot he'd ever been angry.

And then Vesta took Livia away from him.

☙ ❧