The Broken Souls

by Rivka Spicer

  “I suck at this.” She laughed and the teacher smiled.

  “What have you written about the owner of this particular bracelet?” She asked and Jen read what she’d put on her piece of paper. The teacher laughed out loud when she’d finished and handed the bracelet back to her.

  “You’re more accurate than you’d think.” She told Jen. “Where do you think it came from?” Jen shrugged and the teacher tutted. “Just say the first thing that comes into your head.” She advised.

  “Turkey.” Jen blurted out before she knew what she was thinking, and the teacher laughed with delight.

  “Spot on. The bracelet actually belongs to me.” She had the grace to blush. “I bought it in a souk as a memento of a week I spent there with some witchy friends of mine. You may think that you could tell most of that from looking at it, but how did you know it was bought as a reminder?”

  “I don’t know.” Jen was utterly bemused by her newfound powers and the teacher left her to it with another item to get on with.

  When she and Nkara left in search of Kim that afternoon there were still hordes of women in the halls.

  “Do any of these people go home for the weekend?” Jen asked curiously and Nkara face-palmed.

  “Ordinarily they would but this weekend is special.” She explained. “I was supposed to tell you guys about it and then totally forgot. Sunday is one of our biggest pagan festivals of the year – Beltane. It’s a huge celebration. Our brother school brings all the students over and we have a big ritual out in the meadow at night. Everyone in the school takes part. You guys don’t have to but you’ll be alone in the building.”

  “I think I’d like to join in actually.” Jen smiled shyly. “I’m learning so much here. It’s totally not what I expected. Does it matter if I don’t know what the hell I’m doing?” Nkara burst out laughing.

  “Not in the slightest.” She reassured her. “It’s actually a lot of fun. We get to spend the whole day doing special pampering treatments and all sorts. Kim’s going to have a ball!” They fell about laughing and it was a while before they collected themselves enough to continue their search for Kim.

  Chapter seven

  On Saturday morning, Jen and Nkara awoke early and snuck down the hall to Kim’s bedroom where they jumped on her bed yelling ‘Happy Birthday!’ to wake her up. Kim winced, peeling one eyelid open to glare balefully at them.

  “What time is it?” she grumbled and Nkara grinned down at her.

  “It’s at least half past eight.” She announced cheerfully. “Wake up sleepy, we’ve got presents!” Kim groaned.

  “Can’t you take them away and come back in an hour?” She muttered and the others fell about laughing.

  “Don’t be such a grump!” Jen prodded her in the side. “Get up, it’s your birthday!” Sighing, Kim finally gave up on sleep and dragged herself upright. Even she had to admit to being surprised at how many presents her two friends had managed to stuff into their bags. There was a whole heap of brightly wrapped gifts waiting for her to open and as she began to start on them she found herself awakened by enthusiasm.

  They were so engrossed in the presents they were almost late for breakfast and rushed down looking like they’d slept in their clothes. Mara eyed them with amusement when they entered, but didn’t say anything, watching instead as they drank fresh tea and commented on what a beautiful day it was outside. Having been in the spa the whole of the previous day, Kim had organised them all some extra-special treatments for the afternoon, which she was really excited about but none of them wanted to talk about what lay in store in the morning.

  Jen dragged out breakfast as long as she could before she realised she was being stupid. The sooner she told Mara what she wanted to know, the sooner it could be over and done with and they could get onto celebrating Kim’s birthday. Firmly putting down her spoon, she looked up the table at Mara.

  “I’m ready.” She announced and they all looked a little sadly back at her. Everyone else had finished and were watching her attempt to prolong breakfast with something akin to pity.

  “Are you sure about this?” Kim asked gently. “You can still change your mind.” Jen smiled and squeezed Kim’s hand.

  “I need to know.” She replied softly. “I can take it.” She didn’t feel as confident as she sounded but she put on a brave face for the others and reminded herself that it would be over soon.

  “Let’s go then.” Mara gathered the three of them up and they went to the same room as before. The instant Jen saw the couch, involuntary panic began to rise up in her throat and she began to hyperventilate.

  “Jen, breathe! It’s okay.” Nkara placed a cool hand on the back of Jen’s neck and Jennifer’s breathing suddenly slowed as a warm tingling sensation filled her. Nodding palely, too shaken to verbally express her gratitude, Jen smiled at them all and went to lie down as before.

  “Before we start, you mentioned you had some questions.” Mara began, and Jen frowned.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m still trying to believe all of this. I’m in some sort of denial… anyway I suppose these are questions you’ve heard a hundred times before so forgive my scepticism. Why is it that everyone who remembers past lives was someone important? You don’t ever see programs on sky about people that remember being a Victorian prostitute or early street sweeper. And I can’t quite come to terms with being the daughter-wife of the greatest pharaoh in history.”

  “Fair point, and not one there’s an obvious answer to.” Mara conceded. “As I explained to you before, I don’t believe in hypnotism. The sort of people that go to hypnotherapists because they are convinced they have some past life experience are usually the type that are seeking confirmation of their own greatness to some extent. The reason they have ‘memories’ that support this is because the effect of the hypnotism is to drag out of their subconscious exactly what they wish to be. In your case, and in the cases of those who truly do have past life memories, the reason they always tend to be important people is because it’s the important ones that shape history to such an extent that they can change the balance. Put it this way if I was married to my gardener and, while he loved me, he’d long ago promised his heart to the lady that owned the next hedge along; if he had decided to marry her all those years ago instead of me then it would mean no great shakes right? No earth-shattering after-effects. However, change the people and you’ve got Charles, Diana and Camilla. Now what would have happened if all those years ago Charles had married Camilla instead of Diana? The face of the royal family would be very different. William, the future King of England, would never have been born and there would be someone else in his place. You see what I’m getting at here?” Jen nodded slowly.

  “You’re saying that if I’d been a commoner it wouldn’t have mattered if my father had married me because it wasn’t a big enough historical event to shatter my soul, but because it affected things on a national level it tipped the balance and I got stuck in the past.”

  “Exactly.” Mara smiled, pleased that Jen understood.

  “So how does that translate into today?” Jen frowned. “I’m not exactly royalty.”

  “No, but you do affect hundreds of thousands of people on a daily basis.” Nkara pointed out, cottoning onto the concept. “Every woman on earth wants to be in your clothes. You can pretty much dictate fashion to the world.”

  “And, if you don’t mind me saying, you are a member of one of the richest families in Britain.” Mara reminded her. “Money is power, after all.”

  “Oh.” Jen didn’t have an argument for that. “I haven’t got any more questions right now.”

  “Ok. Well let’s get started then.” Mara began as she had the day before, putting Jen into a state of deep relaxation as the others watched in silence.

  When she judged Jen was calm enough, Mara asked about a more recent memory, one of the ones that Jen had dreamed about and Jen flew back in her mind to a time far, far away.

  “It started at the parade…” She bega
n. “I saw the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life, and instantly I knew that I was in love.” A gentle smile lit her face as she described to them the scene – a day filled with cheering crowds as the gladiators had entered town. She had stood on the royal balcony with her husband and watched as they strode past, so strong and confident in themselves, her eyes on one man alone – the dark-haired gladiator at the rear. She felt her heart flutter with anticipation as he had looked up at her and saluted with a cheeky smile on his lips as flower petals strewn from the balconies kissed the air all around him. She knew that she had to meet him.

  Luckily for her they had been arriving for the Great Games that were due to last one hundred days and her husband Marcus Aurelius, Emperor of Rome was expected to attend as many as he could, given matters of state.

  She had been forced to wait four days before she could meet with the gladiator, as they had been so busy she couldn’t sneak away from her husband or the senators, but finally she had her chance and slipped out at the end of the games one evening. Marcus Aurelius was caught up in some long state meeting that would no doubt last late into the night so no-one would miss her, or perhaps even notice her absence. She recalled how she had hurried through the streets of the greatest city in the civilised world with a rough worsted cloak covering up the richer fabrics underneath. She remembered the jeering and cat-calls as she had entered the dark smoky tavern where she had determined that he was staying and also remembered her disgust at some of the crude things they had yelled at her as she ascended the stairs up to the gladiator’s room. She knew however, that she could not reveal herself, for her husband was a deeply insecure and jealous man. So she had bitten her tongue and searched until she had found him. He was alone when she finally discovered which room was his and her cheeks flamed at the thought that he might have been with someone. She wasn’t sure how she’d have dealt with that. Entering quietly, she waited until he noticed her presence before pushing back the hood of her cloak. The way his eyes widened told her that he recognised her and he slowly stood up. Until then she hadn’t realised what a giant of a man he was, easily several feet taller than she and probably three or four times her width.

  “Empress.” He acknowledged with a deep voice that was peculiarly melodic to her ears with its rough twang. “What can I do for you?” She tittered nervously, trying to remain calm.

  “I’m not sure.” She replied honestly. “I…I saw you!” She blurted out for lack of a better explanation. “At the parade, I saw you. I don’t know why I had to find you. But I did. And now I’m here.” She finished lamely and he gave her a long, level look that seared right into her soul and made her knees tremble at the same time as bringing heat to her skin.

  “Come here.” He told her and, willing her knees not to topple her, she slowly went to him. As soon as she was within reach of those long arms, he unclasped her cloak and removed it from her shoulders while she watched him in silence, realising that while she was nervous, she was not at all afraid. He hung it on the door, locking it while he was there and placing the key on the bedside table.

  “Empress, I am not what you’re used to.” He said gently, a strong and callused hand sliding across her shoulders in a way that made her shiver. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She had closed her eyes, every fibre of her being screaming for him to touch her again.

  “Yes.” She had whispered and touch her he had...

  Jen smiled broadly as she recounted that it had been the wildest, roughest and most entertaining sex she’d ever enjoyed and the most alive she had ever felt. When they were done there was no part of her that he did not own body and soul. They lay together to watch the dawn while he idly twirled a strand of her hair in his thick fingers.

  “What’s your name?” She said suddenly and he laughed, a deep rumbling sound that sounded like volcanic thunder.

  “My name is Julius, Empress.” He told her and she smiled.

  “Well, Julius, I am no longer ‘Empress’. You can call me Faustina whenever we’re alone.”

  At the name Kim had gone white.

  “We need to stop this now.” She demanded, jumping to her feet in urgency and Jen frowned sleepily, rising out of the deep state of calm she was in.

  “Shhh!” Warned Nkara in a whisper. “Come outside.” She practically dragged Kim out the door while Mara spoke softly to Jen, putting her back under.

  “We can’t let her go through this!” Kim practically shouted when they were out of earshot. “Faustina and Marcus Aurelius! Fuck, I never thought it would be so terrible.”

  “You’ve heard those names?” Nkara was astonished, although given Kim’s background she really shouldn’t have been.

  “Nkara, anyone that’s ever studied the Roman emperors will have heard those names!” Kim pulled her hair in frustration. “You have to trust me that we can’t let her go through with the rest of that memory. It’s too awful to bear.” Nkara’s eyes filled with sadness.

  “She has to Kim.” She said as gently as she could. “You may know the story, but you can’t tell us which part of it is important and it may have become different in the centuries of telling. We need to hear it from her to be able to fix it.” To Nkara’s surprise, Kim began to cry.

  “Please don’t put her through this.” Kim begged, unashamed of the tears she was shedding for Jen. “Please, it’s horrific.”

  “Kim, we have to.” Nkara pulled her into a hug. “You know we have to. At least let us be there for her as she remembers.”

  “I don’t think I can.” Kim sobbed. “It was hard enough when I didn’t know.” Nkara held her while she cried, unsure what to say next. Finally, after a few minutes, Kim seemed to pull herself together and straightened, wiping her eyes, realising that Jen needed her more than she needed to be cowardly. “If we have to do this you had better make damn sure you fix the problem or I may never forgive you.” She told Nkara who nodded, relieved and they quietly re-entered the room. Mara nodded at them as they sat down and prompted Jen to continue.

  She told how Faustina had crept back through the waking streets of Rome into the royal palace and discovered her husband fast asleep and reeking of alcohol as she had known he would be. She had called for a bath to be drawn up and when Marcus Aurelius had awakened she was bathing ready for the day ahead.

  “Where were you last night wife?” He demanded, his hangover making him sullen.

  “Right here husband.” Faustina replied, feigning confusion. “I went to have dinner with Metella and when I returned we went to bed.” Marcus Aurelius rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember through the alcoholic haze of the previous night.

  “Yes of course.” He mumbled, wandering off and Faustina breathed a silent sigh of relief. She would have to be more careful not to stay out so long next time.

  It was another week before she saw Julius again and in that time he began to possess her every waking thought. She trailed along to the games with Marcus Aurelius every day hoping to catch a glimpse of him and despite her terror that he would be hurt or harmed she loved to watch him fight. He was built of pure, lean, solid muscle and fought like a lion – magnificent and fierce. Her love slowly grew into an all-consuming obsession that kept her awake at night and filled her every waking moment.

  The day she managed to slip away she was supposed to be attending a ladies day at the games but she had heard from her maids that Julius was not fighting that on particular occasion as they were staging a battle for the women’s delight. Marcus Aurelius had a meeting at the forum and would be gone all day, so Faustina sent out a message to the host of the games that she was unwell and would not be attending the afternoon’s entertainment and slipped on her cloak once again.

  Luckily for her, she managed to find Julius in the tavern, although this time he was downstairs drinking with some of his fellow gladiators. At first Faustina had thought his freedom was odd given that most of the gladiators were criminals condemned to a life in the arena and spent most of their time locked away from s
ociety. It was only after some subtle questioning that she discovered Julius and his friends actually chose to be gladiators. It was an incredibly dangerous life-style but she could see the attraction for it to a man that would otherwise not amount to much. They could win money, women and fame on the bloody sands, but even more than that to a man like Julius he could win his pride. He was actually an enormously wealthy man. The gold he won in the arena would never buy him social standing but it was more than enough to guarantee that when he retired he could live out the rest of his days comfortably in a villa by the sea.

  As soon as she entered he stiffened in his seat, despite not being able to see the door.

  “What’s this?” One of his friends joked raucously, rising from his seat to pull Faustina in, but Julius was faster and he stepped in front of the Empress.

  “Leave it Sibellius.” He warned in a tone that, though friendly, clearly carried a threat. “She is mine.” Sibellius shrugged good-naturedly, warm in his alcoholic fug, and sat back down while Julius took Faustina’s arm and led her away from the table.

  “You take a great risk lady.” Julius told her angrily once they were safely locked away in his room. “You came here in broad daylight!”

  “No-one would miss me.” Faustina shrugged. “I had to see you.” Julius sighed and sat on the cot that occupied the far wall of his room.

  “Why? What in Hades does the Empress of Rome want with an uncultured, uneducated sand dog like me?” Faustina smirked.

  “I could think of a few things…” She suggested but he didn’t laugh.

  “If we are caught I will be killed.” He reminded her and she sat down on the bed next to him, stricken by the thought.

  “I can’t explain it.” She said eventually. “The instant I saw you I had to be with you. It’s driving me insane. You are all I think about. I come to the arena every day hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of you even though my heart cannot bear watching you fight.” She traced a recent cut on his bicep. “Every time I see you wounded my breath stops in my chest and I think I will never live again. You are not the only one that could end up dead if we are caught but I can’t help myself. Every part of my being screams to be near you. I feel my heart stop every time I look at you. I am not a girl any more Julius. I don’t know what this is but it’s not some silly childish infatuation. I-“