He had not wanted to face it, this invalidation of his own belief in the future. Even his own mortality, if he were honest. And so they had waited. Hiding their valuables from potential thievery, huddling together in a back room of their estate, hoping the roofs would hold.
All through the long night they had waited. Until it became clear that the house would become their tomb if they did not flee. But now, near the south wall of Pompeii, so close to freedom, he knew it had not been soon enough.
A blast from the mountain rocked them off their feet, all five of them. Nearby, two farmers and their families also fell.
Taurus clung to hope, fragile and worthless as it was.
He was still pushing himself up, straining to rise in the gas-filled air, when the next surge took his final breath.
In the entry hall of the house of Emeritus the fuller, the guard dog he kept chained there to protect his riches was dead.
Emeritus stepped over the twisted corpse, its jaw open in the agony of poisoned lungs.
Indeed, the air had grown impossible to breathe. Emeritus fought to take shallow breaths. How could one suffocate in the open?
In the dark street, he stumbled forward, senseless as to where he might go to escape the air itself.
Within minutes, he felt his lungs collapsing.
In a final effort to defeat the atmosphere, he lowered himself with his back to a wall, knees bent in front of him, and used his toga to cover his nose, pressing the fabric against his face.
Still in this position, he was unconscious before the fiery flow swept the city.
Drusus paced the roofed passageway that surrounded the gladiator barracks, his thoughts vacillating with his footsteps. All that he had worked for, all that he had, was chained within these cells. Nearly a hundred highly trained men who brought him wealth, fame, and freedom. His prizefighters, Celadus, Paris, Floronius. To release them was to give up everything.
And yet, could they survive the rising ash and rock?
If he had seen the surge that had come to the north wall, perhaps he would not have taken the chance. But he had been busy securing his future.
Or so he thought.
For in the end, they all perished together.
In their wealthy home in the eastern district, Seneca pulled his wife, Europa, into an embrace where they reclined on the triclinium’s couches and whispered final words of love and reassurance. They would meet on the other side, he said.
Jeremiah sat nearby. He wore a contented look, his eyes focused far off, as if he saw the dawn of eternity breaking on the horizon.
Across from them, Flora smiled bravely at her parents.
They could have left her there on the riverbank, all those years ago. Perhaps things would be different today if they had. But there were no regrets. None. They had answered the call of God on their lives, and though He should slay them, yet they would trust Him. Always.
Let the fires come.
They would only purge away what was left of this fallen life, this fallen world that twisted feet and twisted hearts and left all men longing for their true home, whether they knew it or not.
As they would have wished, Jeremiah’s whispered words were the last that they heard.
“Thanks be to God, who rescues us from this body of death.”
The city was no more, and thousands within it were now asleep, tucked into graves that would become solid rock around them.
Some of them had survived, true. These were the ones who would not forget, who would tell their children, and their children’s children, the story of Vesuvius and its mighty power. Of the gifts it bestowed, but also the danger.
The landscape was changed entirely, for the mountain had remade it. In time, grass would grow again on the spiny rock ridges. Trees would sprout and become tall, birds would make their nests, and the wildlife would return.
Even the people would wander back to the foothills, to take advantage of its fertility, to reap its treasures.
And deep within the mountain, the plates were ever shifting. Waiting.
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The mountain surged twice more before it burned itself out and lay silent.
The population of Pompeii who had escaped to the south moved as a great herd toward the nearest coastal town. With no belongings, no shelter, they did what any refugee people would do. They relied on the charity of others.
Stabiae welcomed them. From its position on the bay, it had stood witness to the destruction that befell Pompeii and had news of other towns as well.
To the north of Pompeii, Vesuvius had obliterated Herculaneum. Through the previous day the wind had blown ash and rock away from the town. Though many fled, many others believed they were safe. When the mountain had overflowed near midnight, there was no time to escape. The searing mud flowed over the city and reduced every living thing to ash.
Here in Stabiae, only a smattering of the porous rocks that had first buried Pompeii lay on the ground. They had smelled the gases and seen the cloud, but they had survived.
It was rumored that the famed naturalist and writer Gaius Plinius Secundus, sometimes called Pliny the Elder, had sailed from Misenum, farther up the coast, to Stabiae. He apparently had plans to sail to Pompeii to rescue friends, but the prevailing winds confined him to the coastal town, and his weak lungs succumbed to the odors while watching the flames shoot above Vesuvius from the beach. They had found his body at morning’s light.
All this Cato learned in the short time they had spent in Stabiae. The little family group of eight he had led from Pompeii bedded down in a brothel, opened to the refugees by its prosperous owner. His mother and two sisters, along with Nigidia and Ariella, took one small room, and he shared another with Micah and Lucius. There they slept for what felt like days, then took food and wine brought by sympathetic women of the brothel. He smiled to watch Octavia whisper to them when their owner looked the other way.
Sitting on the floor beside Ariella, he worried about Nigidia, the only one of their group with no family. She had lost everything, though they would not abandon her. Ariella’s brother, Micah, hovered over her, assuming the role of protector. Cato caught Ariella’s eye and motioned his head toward the couple. She smiled. Despite their disparate background, these two had both known mistreatment, exploitation. Perhaps . . . they could find support in each other.
Later in the morning Cato led Ariella to the beach, to look out over the sea and breathe the air where the wind had scrubbed it clean. He held her hand, their fingers intertwined, a tranquil silence between them.
She had not asked him any questions, but he had answers. “We will go to Rome.”
Ariella did not speak, and he could feel her tremble beside him. He turned her to face him and held both her hands. “We will go to Rome and you will be my wife. We will tend my uncle’s vineyards and make wine. We will raise a family and fight against evil, together.”
“How can we—”
Cato shook his head. “Do not speak of obstacles. We have defeated a mountain, Ariella. There is nothing left we cannot face.”
Her torn tunic revealed the healing scar on her upper arm. He traced the cross with his fingertip.
She followed the motion with her eyes and whispered, as though to herself, “He was wounded for our transgressions.”
Cato brought her face to his own and kissed her lips with all the promise of the future.
Across the bay, the first wave of rescue ships from Rome crested the horizon, their white sails billowing.
Ariella buried her face in his chest, and he bent to hear her words.
“And by His stripes we are healed.”
THE STORY BEHIND THE STORY . . . AND BEYOND
In some ways, we owe a debt of gratitude to the mountain called Vesuvius and to those who perished under its flow. So much of what we know of life at the height of the Roman Empire has come to us through the frozen-in-time city unearthed in the region of Campania, near modern Naples.
The eruption occurred on
August 24, 79 AD, and buried Pompeii under more than twelve feet of ash and pumice over the course of about twenty-four hours. The gradual ash-fall sealed in the city without air or moisture, preserving it exactly as it was on that day, frozen in time. Archaeologists digging 1700 years later discovered entire loaves of bread still sitting on counters, fresh from the ovens!
The population of the city was probably about 20,000 at the time of the eruption, and historians speculate that all but about 2000 of the townspeople escaped the devastation by simply fleeing the city while the ash was falling.
But not everyone escaped, as the evidence sadly attests. The plaster casts familiar to most of us from history class were created when pockets were discovered in the hardened ash—vacuums created by the decayed bodies of the volcano’s victims. The plaster was poured into these cavities then excavated, giving us a vivid depiction of real Romans in the death throes of the eruption. I used some of these figures as inspiration for characters in City on Fire. To see the photos of the plaster casts capturing the moment of death of some of the characters, visit my website TracyHigley.com.
Over the centuries, dirt and vegetation gradually overtook the site until it was lost to the world, its location and even its name forgotten. Imagine, an entire city, preserved underground, waiting to reveal its vast riches of knowledge! The first hint of the hidden treasure came in 1599, when the digging of an underground channel to divert river water revealed some frescoed walls and inscriptions.
But it wasn’t until the mid-1700s that proper excavation began, revealing a city with a morality very different from that of the culture excavating it. Much of the artwork and statuary was considered shockingly inappropriate, and debates ensued as to how much of it should be displayed to the public. Even today, many of the more explicit artifacts are housed in the “Secret Room” of the Naples National Archaeological Museum, which over the years has been alternately closed and re-opened and even today requires minors to be accompanied by adults.
Many of the details given to us by Pompeii—its graffiti, its buildings, its artwork—formed the backdrop of this novel. I had great fun finding places to add some of the intriguing details I found, and much of my research inspired specific characters and events. The name and position of Gnaeus Nigidius Maius came to me from graffiti found in Pompeii. Covering the walls are notices filled with electoral propaganda and announcements of the games to be sponsored by the candidate, including this one:
Thirty pairs of gladiators
provided by Gnaeus Alleius Nigidius Maius quinquennial duumvir,
together with their substitutes, will fight at
Pompeii on November 24, 25, 26.
There will be a hunt.
Hurrah for Maius the Quinquennial! Bravo, Paris!
While most of the characters in City on Fire are from my imagination, the characters of Maius, his slave Primus, and the gladiators Celadus, Paris, and Floronius are all names from the city walls.
The characters of the early church in Pompeii are also of my making, and I have tried to describe the function and reputation of these house churches throughout Rome with accuracy. I am indebted to Gerald Sittser, whose book Water from a Deep Well: Christian Spirituality from Early Martyrs to Modern Missionaries aided my understanding of the first century church.
The arena in Pompeii is considered to be the oldest Roman amphitheater yet unearthed, built probably around 80 BC. It was already nearly two hundred years old at the time of this story. The Flavian Amphitheater in Rome, later known as the Colosseum, was in its final stages at the time Pompeii was destroyed.
In outlining the events of Pompeii’s final day, I have attempted to stay as close to the archaeological evidence as possible. Historians and scientists have been able to ascertain the rate at which ash fell from the first eruption to the final pyroclastic surge that buried the city, and from this I built the ending of the book and the end of the city.
In the years since 79 AD, Vesuvius has erupted many times, though not with the devastation of that earlier eruption. Perched now over the populous city of Naples, it is considered dormant but not extinct and is an ever-present threat to Naples and southern Italy. The most recent eruption of Vesuvius in 1944 was caught on film because of the presence of American troops in Italy during World War II. Visit my website to watch Vesuvius erupt in a seventy-year-old live WWII newscast.
Over two million tourists visit Pompeii each year, and I was privileged to be one of them—during the original writing of this book and then again while re-writing it! To walk among the still-vivid frescoes, to stand in the center of the amphitheater, to gaze across the Forum at Vesuvius in the distance, was unforgettable. I even got the chance to climb Mt. Vesuvius and stare down into the crater. I hope you’ll join me on the website to read my travel journal, look at photos, watch videos, and discover more about what is fact and what is fiction in City on Fire. There is much to experience in this amazing place, and I’d love to take you there.
Also on my website, you’ll have access to a free short story—a fun modern-day tale that also includes a gladiator!
Thank you for joining me in this adventure in Pompeii. Our next journey together will take us on a tour of Egypt, Rome, and Jerusalem as we follow the intrigue and court politics woven into the ancient world, through the eyes of The Queen’s Handmaid (coming Spring 2014). I hope you join me there.
Until then, visit me at TracyHigley.com and share your heart with me!
READING GROUP GUIDE
1. In what ways did you feel that Cato’s relationships with his mother and sisters was unusual? Did you enjoy the way these relationships were portrayed?
2. Cato is challenged to stand up to Maius, even though he feels inadequate, and has failed in the past. Have you ever faced a similar challenge? How did you handle it?
3. Ariella is angry at God for the suffering he’s allowed in her life and in the lives of her people. In what ways have you struggled with this issue?
4. Ariella is convinced she’s invincible and doesn’t want to admit weakness or a need for help. Can you relate? Are you able to seek help from others and from God?
5. Pompeii is a city reveling in its decadence. How did you feel about the way the author portrayed the society? Did it make you uncomfortable? Did you feel it was realistic?
6. In what ways do you think our society parallels Ancient Rome in its obsession with death and sex? Would you say the world is getting worse or improving?
7. What character did you most identify with? Why?
8. This story takes place in 79 AD. How familiar are you with the church’s history in this period? What new things did you learn about the history of Christianity through the story?
9. Pompeii is considered a “lost city” because its location was unknown for many centuries. Why do you think we have such a fascination with “lost cities”?
10. In what ways do you feel that the author’s travels to Pompeii and other ancient lands have informed her writing? Would you like to travel to Pompeii, Italy? Why or why not?
11. Cato and Ariella faced numerous obstacles to their relationship including religious, ethnic, and social differences. Have you ever had to overcome obstacles to pursue a relationship or friendship? Did you find it difficult?
12. Cato and Ariella are exposed to the gospel through the witness of a house church that is largely in hiding. How do you feel about the ways the Church today is reaching out? Is it more or less effective than the first-century Church?
13. The end of the story involves some specific intervention by God showing His power. Do you believe God still works in this way? If so, where have you seen or experienced it?
14. The eruption of Vesuvius and the escape takes up much of the latter part of the book. How did you feel about the author’s treatment of this tragic historical event?
15. Romans 9:18–24 talks about the sovereignty of God in the events of history. How does Ariella reconcile her past and her nation’s defeat with the idea of a loving
God?
16. In Acts 15, the council at Jerusalem gathered to discuss whether Gentiles could become believers in Jesus. How did their conclusion affect both the church in Pompeii and the church today?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The re-release of a novel written a few years ago is an exciting thing. Thank you to Thomas Nelson for taking on the project and making it fresh. I love the work all of you do to polish and promote your authors! Ami McConnell, thank you for the editing suggestions to bring new life to this work.
Though the content of the book has been updated, my gratitude to those who helped the story the first time around is unchanged, so I again offer my thanks to the following . . .
Pompeii has long held fascination for me—a lost city, frozen in time and then thawed, exactly as it was on the day the mountain spewed its fire and swallowed it whole.
Unearthing any story is, at times, a bit like digging in hardened ash, with an uncertainty of what one will find. I am grateful for the help and encouragement of all who worked alongside me to bring this project to light.
Karen Ball, your editing the first time around was stellar. Thank you for your wisdom and attention to detail. Thank you to my agent, Steve Laube. You’ve been a cheerleader for my writing since we began, and your support and guidance are so appreciated.
A special thanks to Mitch Triestman, (otherwise known as Uncle Mitch!) for your invaluable help in understanding the Jewish mindset of the first century—and the present. Your excellent book, To the Jew First, gave great insight into Ariella’s character.
A huge thank you to my daughter Rachel, for being my travel partner on this book’s research trip. We will have stories to tell of Venice, Rome, and Naples forever, won’t we?! It was such fun spending that time with you. I would do it all again in a heartbeat!
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