"She is called Rhea Silvia. She brings a message."
"Stop!"
All turned to the Chief Vestal, who gestured to Ulrika. "Come forward." When Ulrika stood before her, the priestess said, "You dare to claim to be in contact with Rome's first Chief Vestal?"
"She is in contact with me, honored lady. And she has a message."
"Tell it to me," the priestess said. "Whisper it so that no one else can hear."
She leaned forward and, drawing back her veil to expose her ear, listened as Ulrika whispered the message. The Chief Vestal went pale.
Sitting back on her throne, the priestess folded her hands in her lap and said softly, "What you have just told me is known only to the Vestals. It is recorded in our sacred chronicle, the Book of Prophecies, handed down to us through the ages. We Vestals are the chosen keepers of Rome's secrets. Do you understand?"
"I do."
"And you do know that what you have just learned, if you were to broadcast it, calamity would come to Rome. The city would plunge into chaos. Do you understand this?"
Ulrika nodded solemnly.
"Then you must swear to me now, upon that which is most sacred to you, that you will never utter a word of this to another soul."
"But, honored lady, I must prove my powers to the emperor so that he will set my husband free."
"I will see to your husband's freedom, and that of your friends and the Barbarian."
Ulrika knew that the Chief Vestal possessed such power. Ulrika looked at Sebastianus and, swearing upon her love for him, said, "You have my promise. Rome's secret is safe."
The Vestal turned to Nero. "Caesar, you must release these people and let them go in peace." She then turned to Ulrika and added quietly, "Once you leave this palace, you will no longer be safe. My protection goes only so far. You must leave Rome and never return."
"Yes—" Ulrika began.
But Nero, rising from his throne, said, "I will not release these people. They are guilty of treason. And this Barbarian," he said, pointing to Wulf, "is a known enemy of the empire."
"You cannot defy the wishes of Vesta," the priestess said, a mortified look on her face. "If you do, Caesar, you risk bringing calamity upon your people. Vesta will withdraw her protection if you offend her."
"I am more powerful than Vesta," Nero declared, and a collective gasp rose from the crowd. Those at the rear and nearest the doors began to back away and seek hasty exit. "Take the prisoners away!" he said to the chief of his Praetorian Guard, sweeping his arm over Ulrika and Sebastianus and Timonides, Rachel and the kneeling Primo, and Wulf. "I have tried them and found them guilty. They will be executed in the Great Circus!"
The crowd shifted and murmured, exchanged glances. There was no mistaking the horrified look on the Chief Vestal's face. Bad luck was going to strike Rome.
And then suddenly—a distant rumble, as if thunder had clapped over Rome's seven hills. The floor of the audience chamber began to shake, and then the walls, and the air was filled with the sound of a dull roar. Statues swayed and toppled, crashing down. People screamed. Nero sprang from his throne and flung himself behind a giant marble statue of Minerva, wedging himself between the heavy, immovable effigy and the walls, throwing his arms protectively over his head. When an onyx bust wobbled in an overhead niche, threatening to topple, General Vatinius ran to protect his emperor, pulling Nero out of the way as the bust crashed to the floor.
Rachel fell to her knees to wrap her arms around the cedar chest. Primo dropped beside her and covered her with his thick torso, shielding her from falling debris.
As people ran to and fro, looking for exits, escaping from being crushed by falling statues, as they pushed and shoved and trampled those who fell, Wulf dashed away from his guards and fled to the outer balcony, where potted trees swayed and water splashed out of the fountain. His wrists still shackled, he climbed upon the balustrade, he poised to jump, but then stopped and looked back. His eyes went to Ulrika. He hesitated. Then he jumped back down onto the balcony. As he ran inside the chamber, he held onto the walls but the floor shook. He was thrown off balance and had to cling to a pillar for support.
And then the silver and gold mosaic tiles began to drop from the domed ceiling.
Looking up, Sebastianus saw sparkling bits come drifting down, like silver rain. He pulled Ulrika to him, draping his toga over her to protect her. She held tightly to him and pressed her face into his chest as she imagined the massive palace crashing down about them. Sebastianus stared up at the domed ceiling, unable to take his eyes away. The constellations were breaking up. He watched in amazement as, fragment by fragment, the gold and silver mosaic pieces came loose from the dome and drifted down. More and more fell, exposing gray plaster behind, the zodiacal signs disintegrating as the throned Nero in the center began to break up and drop away in small shining bits of tile.
"Ulrika!" Sebastianus said. "Look!"
She brought her head out from the protection of his cloak and lifted her face. "Why ... it is a star-shower!"
"Just like the one the night Lucius died," Sebastianus said as he watched the stars rain down from the domed ceiling.
Nero Caesar began screaming: "Get out! You are free! All of you! And take the wretched Barbarian with you."
"Caesar!" General Vatinius shouted. "You cannot do this!"
"Vesta preserve us!" Nero screamed, and grabbed for the General, clinging to him like a man drowning.
"This way!" the Chief Vestal called out. She stood against a wall, holding aside a heavy hanging to reveal a door.
The earthquake subsided and finally stopped, but tiles and dust continued to rain down on the few who remained in the massive hall. Sebastianus raced over and freed Wulf's hands while Primo scooped up the cedar chest. The six ran to the door where the Chief Vestal said, "This will take you to the Holy of Holies in the temple of Vesta. Go quickly."
They were covered in sparkling little tiles, their hair and clothes glittering as they hurried through. As they ran along the corridor, where torches flickered in sconces, and busts and statues stood in marble niches, Ulrika saw that the earthquake had not struck here. And when they reached the end, where the corridor opened into a quiet sanctuary, they saw ahead, through an open colonnade, that the city had not been affected by the earthquake at all. Rome was quiet and all was as usual.
"This way!" Sebastianus said.
They ran through the colonnaded temple, where priestesses looked at them in surprise, and down the steps to mingle with the crowds in the Forum. At the far end, where steps led up the Palatine Hill to the Imperial Palace, Sebastianus saw Praetorian Guards coming down. "Vatinius has sent them after us," he said.
"Follow me," Primo said, and the five hurried after the military veteran, who loped through the marketplace with the cedar chest in his arms. Sebastianus saw to it that Rachel kept up, while Wulf watched after Ulrika and the elderly Timonides.
Located in the center of Rome, between the Palatine and Capitoline Hills, the Roman Forum was a rectangle surrounded by temples and government buildings. The site of triumphal processions and government elections, venue for public speeches and nucleus of commercial affairs, the Forum was the beating heart of the empire. Here statues and monuments commemorated the city's great men, gods, and goddesses. It was also a marketplace, where stalls were crammed between marble buildings, and everything from books to carpets was sold.
Primo led his companions along the busy Sacred Way, past the Curia, Rome's Senate House, and around the side of the Temple of Castor and Pollux, where they found a small grotto carved into the hillside, with a trickling fountain and vines cascading down. A marble altar had been built into the rock long ago, and a terracotta plaque above the altar showed a young man riding a bull, and underneath was written: Sol Invictus Mithras. It was a shrine to Mithras, and from here they could remain hidden while watching the progress of the Praetorians.
"Selene," came a deep voice. Ulrika turned to look up into blue eyes filled with ques
tions. "And yet not ... You resemble her."
It had been a long time since she had spoken German, but it came back easily to her lips. "Selene is my mother, and you are my father." He was so handsome, so strong and heroic looking, as if he normally lived with Thor and Odin. She could see why her mother had fallen in love with him.
Frank surprise stood on his face. "I am your father?" His eyes roamed her hair, her features. He smiled. "You are Selene's daughter, yes, but now I see my mother in your eyes, your chin. I did not know ..."
He drew her into his arms and clasped her in a strong embrace. He held her for a long moment, while Ulrika heard the steady thumping of his warrior's heart. Then he drew back and said, "Your mother is well? Our time together was short, but it was memorable."
"Mother is in Ephesus. And I believe she is well. How did Vatinius catch you?"
He smiled. "I am not as swift as I once was."
"This is Sebastianus," she said. "My husband." Ulrika then introduced her father to Timonides, Primo, and Rachel, and as she explained how they had all come to be standing before Emperor Nero, she thought: What an odd mix we are—a wealthy Spanish trader; a veteran of the Roman army; a Greek astrologer; a Jewish widow; a hero of the German revolt; and myself, a girl once lost but who has found her way.
"Where do you go from here?" Wulf asked in halting Latin, and Sebastianus said, "We go to Galicia."
Primo muttered, "We won't be going anywhere if we don't find a better hiding place. The Praetorians are getting close."
Wulf's look darkened. "It is me they want, not you and your friends. Vatinius will not rest until I am recaptured. If I go, they will come after me, and you will be free to go your way."
"No!"
"Ulrika, I must return to the Rhineland, and you must go with this man who is your husband."
"Wulf, my friend," Sebastianus said, "travel with us to the port of Ostia, for there I can see that you are disguised and well provisioned, and placed with a safe and trusted caravan leader. They are all known to me, and many owe me a favor."
Wulf nodded in agreement, and then he went to stand guard with Primo, who was keeping an eye on the throngs filling the Forum, and the Praetorian guards searching among them.
Ulrika first made sure that Rachel was all right, and found that she was already being taken care of by Timonides, who had cleared the marble bench of autumn leaves to make Jacob's widow comfortable. The cedar chest with its precious contents was tucked securely against the altar of Mithras.
Ulrika then turned to Sebastianus, who was also keenly watching the crowds among the temples and government buildings. "Why do we go to Galicia?" she asked.
In the intimacy of the small and ancient grotto, Sebastianus took Ulrika by the shoulders and looked long and deep into her eyes before saying, "Ulrika, someone might say it was the coincidence of an earthquake and shoddy craftsmanship that brought those mosaic tiles down. But I call it a miracle, for the tiles came down in a shower of stars that looked just like the star-shower over my homeland the night Lucius died. It not only saved all our lives, Ulrika, but pointed the way as well. I believe it was a sign that I am meant to return home after years of roaming. It is also the answer to where we are to take Jacob's relics. To Gaia's altar, which is a sacred place."
Ulrika turned to Rachel and said, "You will not be safe in Rome."
Rachel nodded. "We will take Jacob to that sacred place."
"Master," Primo said, "we must be going. We cannot stay here any longer. The Praetorians are searching around the Treasury building. This is a good time to make a quick escape."
"But where do we go?" Timonides asked, rising from the marble bench. "Nero confiscated your estate and caravan. He left you penniless."
"Do not fear, I have many friends who will help."
"I, too," Primo said.
"And there are members of my faith," Rachel added, "who will help."
Ulrika opened her hand and discovered, to her amazement, that she was still clutching the emerald. Timonides whistled. "That will be worth a good price!"
"But not with Nero searching for us," Primo said darkly. "He will eventually regret letting us and the Barbarian go. He will send legions after us."
But Ulrika, gazing into the green heart of the gemstone, shook her head and said, "Nero will not search for us. After today, his popularity will rapidly decline. When word spreads of how he treated General Vatinius, robbing him of a victory parade with his prisoner in chains, the army will turn against the emperor. In four years he will become so unpopular that the Senate declares him a public enemy and orders his execution. Nero will die by his own hand, with a dagger in his throat."
"It is time to go," Sebastianus said, gesturing to his small party. "The Praetorians will not see us. There is a man who lives north of the city. He will take us in for a while. I did him a favor once ..."
41
W
E HAVE ARRIVED!" SEBASTIANUS cried as he urged his horse into a quick gallop, while Ulrika rode in his arms.
They had sailed from Ostia and crossed the Great Green to land at the Roman colony of Barcino, on the northeast coast of Hispania. From there the caravan of horses, mules, wagons, and people had struck westward, to follow newly laid Roman roads and ancient trails carved long ago by forgotten ancestors. They trekked past tiny hamlets and scattered farms, isolated Roman villas, and the occasional military outpost. The terrain was variously flat, mountainous, green, and rocky, with a deep blue sky traversed by enormous billowing clouds. The capricious winds blew at their backs and in their faces, while nights sparkled frostily and days glowed with warmth. In the far distance to the north they saw the towering mountain range named after the mythological princess, Pyrene, beyond which lay the land of the Gauls.
After weeks of travel, the weary caravan had finally crested the last hill of their journey, and they now saw below a verdant countryside of such deep and wondrous green that Ulrika thought it could not be real. Set amid steep, wooded hillsides were whitewashed buildings surrounded by pastures and orchards. The villas stood far apart, with footpaths connecting them, and beyond, a bustling marketplace with a blacksmith shop, small ateliers for metal and stone workers, and a wooden fortress housing Roman soldiers. A settlement on its way to becoming a town. More rolling green hills undulated to the horizon, dotted with dwellings, pastures, vegetable gardens.
Sebastianus's eyes filled with tears as he sat atop his horse, and he could not for the moment speak. Ulrika sat in silence as he steadied her in a tight hold.
"That is my family home," he finally said, pointing to a sprawling villa with several buildings and gardens and penned animals. And that way," he said, pointing westward, "is the end of the world, which Romans call Finisterre. It is a day's journey by foot. You can stand on the rocky promontory and look out over an ocean that goes on forever. There is no more land after that."
Ulrika gave him a radiant smile. "From Luoyang to Finisterre, you have spanned the world."
Before Sebastianus could give the signal for the caravan to move on, the afternoon air was pierced by a high, keening sound. "Look, master!" Timonides said, pointing. He sat astride a donkey, while behind him Rachel rode in a cart drawn by oxen. "Someone is coming!"
"My little sister," Sebastianus said, dismounting, and then helping Ulrika down. "I see she has been making tarts. I hope you like cherries, Ulrika," he added with a grin. "My brother-in-law is rather proud of his orchards."
Ulrika stared in astonishment, for rushing up the hill toward them, holding her skirts as she sprinted over the grass, was the plump young woman of her vision long ago. Ulrika saw now that she was not running from anything but toward something, and the open mouth was screaming with joy, not fear. The "blood" on her hands was the juice of red fruit.
Ulrika watched as brother and sister met in an emotional embrace, laughing and crying at the same time.
"We received your message days ago and have been preparing for your return ever since!" Lucia declared breath
lessly.
When they landed at Barcino, Sebastianus had sent a swift rider accompanied by an armed guard with greetings to his family, announcing his homecoming. Ulrika knew the names and histories of all the family members, who were numerous, as his three sisters lived in that sprawling villa with husbands, children, and a variety of in-laws.
Lucia looked prosperous, Ulrika thought, and she saw the resemblance to her brother, saw the copper highlights in her long hair. She turned to Ulrika with shining eyes. Her Latin was thickly accented, and so Ulrika knew she must learn the dialect of this region. The sisters-in-law embraced as more people came running from the villa, men in short tunics, women in long dresses, children and dogs, all calling out to their returned brother and uncle.
The caravan continued on and arrived at the villa in a noisy affair of welcomes and introductions, and everyone talking at once. A lively feast followed, lasting late into the night—a celebration with music and dancing, much wine, and generous offerings of steamed clams, boiled octopus, fried squid, and an endless array of cherry tarts.
Afterwards, as Ulrika lay in Sebastianus's arms, in the room he had shared with his brother Lucius years ago, she thought of the letter she had sent to her mother from Ostia, placing it in the care of a sea captain bound for Ephesus who promised to deliver it personally. Ulrika had filled the missive with all the remarkable news of her life, and ended it with an invitation, praying that Selene would come to this northwest corner of Hispania for a long visit.
And now Ulrika's family was complete. She had traveled from Rome to Ostia with her father, during which time they had spoken of their lives, and Ulrika had gotten to know the great Wulf at last.
A tour of the villa was mandatory the next morning, with the children skipping and running in excitement, and then the noon meal, after which Sebastianus announced it was time to visit the ancient altar.
They went alone to the hill that rose in a gentle wooded crest, following an ancient path together, through poplar trees, oaks, and firs—a sylvan paradise that reminded Ulrika of the place where she had seen the Crystal Pools of Shalamandar. One would not have known that the jumble of stones and seashells at the end of the path was Gaia's altar, for it looked haphazard and untended. But Ulrika closed her eyes and sent her spirit out into this protected glade, and she knew they stood on sacred ground.
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