Vestal

Page 2

Now I’m staring at the stone floor. I was embarrassed for him. I was embarrassed of him. I was also humiliated and ashamed knowing that I, myself, was one of the men responsible for this spoiled, demented child’s safety. I have spent the last thirty years (since I was fifteen) branded and bonded to the service of Caesar. We all thought that Tiberius was volatile, and we had high expectations from Caligula. We hoped he would live up to his father’s legacy and crush Tiberius for having him murdered. Instead, the young one found solace and apprenticeship with his parent’s murderer. Tiberius died before Caligula could exert his vengeance.

Now, the people of Rome are the target of his tantrum rage.

“So, you see, my dear, your virtue belongs to me. You have sworn so with your own breath.”

The face of the young maiden turned slate and refuting. A single, lone protest escaped her in the form of a frightened, defiant whisper.

“Never.”

The dictator’s overconfident snarl-smile began to fade leaving only the snarl.

“You would refuse a god? Especially one whose eminence and beauty rivals that of Venus herself? If you refuse, you are ,in a sense, breaking your vows. Therefore, your holiness will be revoked, and your virtue worthless. Then you might as well give it to me anyway.”

He’s playing with her now. He wishes to degrade her and Vesta’s renowned temple and flame before taking her. Blasphemy over blasphemy. If he had not been in such a playful mood, her head would have been separated from her neck before the word ‘Never’ was gone from her lips.

The merciless bastard.

Her fear became defiant.

“Not with you or any other man” the last word dripped wile guile.

I looked up from the floor. I just had to see the one from which this courage and commitment flowed. Never before have I seen one so young that stood so strong. Neither have I ever seen anyone stand up to this flagrant excuse for an absolute ruler. I drank of her innocence and fire deeply. I admired her, and I knew that soon, I would mourn for her.

Out of respect for my station, I will mourn in silence.

Emperor Caligula Gaius Caesar began to pace to and fro like an angry, caged tiger. His piercing green eyes searched her with disbelief. He looked as if he was staring into her soul.

“Foritus bojum covistuk zaloin BAKKARE!!!”

The enraged ruler snapped his face toward me.

“Thelonius! I shall propose my blessings and attentions to this ungrateful little trollop only once more. If she refuses, take your blade and spill her entrails at my feet.”

The snarl began to smooth over. The tyrant stepped down from his platform pedestal and placed his lips close to the priestesses’ ear.

“One way or the other, my pure, sweet sacrifice, I will be inside you,” his voice was volcanic and final.

Like I said before, I am and have been a royal guardsman for as long as I can remember. My sworn duty is to the house of Augustus and his clan. However, I believe in the sanctity of the vows of faith more than the bonds of politics. If I spill Afinatia’s blood in this courtroom, I can look forward to damnation in Tartarus. Yet, if I disobey my liege, then I will be executed after a very long and excruciating torture process typically reserved for those caught stealing directly from the royal crypt.

‘Little Boots’ continues to pace like the vicious tiger he is.

The chaste, but frightened lady will not be persuaded to give in.

I am caught between hell and damnation. Which will it be?

The Lady, or The Tiger?