The Dead Virgins (The India Sommers Mysteries Book 1)

by K. M. Ashman

  ‘Just because of a wooden statue?’

  ‘They believed in these things,’ said India, ‘anyway, whatever the reason, the city fell a few days later and almost everyone was slaughtered. Some escaped but essentially the city was wiped out. After a ten year siege, it was a great victory for the Greeks.’

  ‘Ten years? It wasn’t that long in the film.’

  ‘Don’t take the piss, Brandon,’ she said, ‘these were real people and real events. Not a vehicle for Brad Pitt’s career, gorgeous as he is.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘anyway, that’s all very interesting. What about Samothrace?’

  ‘The records are a bit hazy there,’ she said, ‘it seems the cult of the great mother on Samothrace continued to grow from strength to strength. Over the centuries it became a great place of worship and many famous people visited there to become initiated and that’s where Phillip the Second of Macedonia met his bride to be in 356 BC.’

  ‘Hence the link,’ said Brandon.

  ‘Hence the link,’ confirmed India. ‘Not much, I know but a historical fact linking Samothrace with our murderer.’

  ‘Well,’ said Brandon, ‘we’ll be there soon enough, I’m going to get some kip.’ He lay down on the deck and tilted his sun hat over his eyes. ‘Let me know when we arrive.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ murmured India sarcastically and dipped into her bag to pull out the tourist guide to Samothrace she had picked up in Rome. Two hours later, she shook Brandon’s shoulders.

  ‘Brandon, wake up,’ she said, ‘you have got to see this.’

  Brandon got up and sat on the bench alongside India, gazing at the amazing sight of the island rising majestically out of the blue Aegean Sea. The volcanic shape dominated the horizon and even from this distance, they could see it was lush with green vegetation. Halfway up, it carved through a white halo of mist, formed by its own microclimate and the whole place screamed mystery across the water.

  ‘Truly a place of the gods,’ whispered India in awe.

  ‘More like Jurassic bloody park,’ answered Brandon and ducked to avoid the half-hearted slap from his colleague.

  ----

  Chapter 13

  Rome 64 AD

  The fires had been burning across Rome for two days and Rubria was still locked in the tower with Nero. The emperor’s mood swung from lyrical to savage as he alternately serenaded Rubria with his lyre or violently raped her, depending on his disposition. Her face was swollen from the beatings and the once pristine white robes were grubby and blood stained. Her hair was unkempt and her face dirty from the long dried tears. She lay curled into a ball in the corner, her hands tied tightly around a heavy table leg.

  ‘Beautiful,’ said Nero staring out at the flames raging across Rome. ‘It won’t be long, priestess and the rebuilding can begin. A new era of magnificence, the likes of which has never been seen. It could have all been yours, Rubria, why did you have to spoil it all?’

  Rubria didn’t answer.

  ‘It matters not,’ said Nero, ‘there are countless who will gladly consent to be my empress. I have my choice of women or boys, married or chaste,’ he glanced sideways at her ominously, ‘willing or not.’

  ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘let me go. You have had your way, please allow me to return to the temple.’

  ‘Back to the temple?’ he laughed, ‘why? You know as well as I that you have no future there. The priestesses must all be virgins. As soon as the Pontifex Maximus finds out you have lain with a man, your only future lies beneath the paviers of the Campus Sceleratus.’

  ‘You raped me,’ she said, ‘they will understand.’

  ‘And who do you think they will believe?’ asked Nero, ‘a mere girl who has been pestering me for months, or their glorious emperor? Sorry, Rubria, your future has become somewhat limited and to be honest…’ he grabbed her chin in his hand and forced her head up to look at him, ‘it’s not even as if you were any good.’

  A knock came on the door and Nero answered without looking up.

  ‘Go away, I am busy.’

  ‘Sire,’ came a voice, ‘you are needed, there is a problem.’

  ‘What problem?’

  ‘The fire is getting out of control, it threatens the Palatine.’

  Nero looked up in concern.

  ‘The palace?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, sire, ‘the vigils are fighting the flames as we speak.’

  Nero walked over to the door and withdrew the bolt.

  ‘How has this happened,’ he asked.

  ‘The wind changed, sire. The whole hill is threatened, Caligula’s palace, the domus, even the forum is at risk.’

  Nero glanced at Rubria.

  ‘What about the temple of Vesta?’ he asked, ‘does it lie in the fire’s path?’

  ‘No, Sire, it would seem the temple is safe.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Nero, ‘I am not sure that is a fair situation. Why do our humble citizens suffer yet the sisterhood escapes the fire? Look at the situation again, soldier. Next time you report, it would be better for you if I heard the temple had burnt to the ground. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sire,’ said the soldier.

  ‘Make sure you do, now, gather the men and concentrate on saving the palaces.’

  ‘Yes, sire,’ said the centurion and Rubria heard him running back through the marble hallway.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Nero, sitting down next to her and peeling an apple with his knife, ‘it would seem that even if I were to let you go, there is nowhere for you to run, however that is irrelevant. You see, Rubria, unfortunately, I can’t let you leave here alive. Even though I am destined to be a god, some would frown on your seduction and whilst I do not answer to them, I could do without the irritation. So, in a few hours, while I am becoming the saviour of the city and spending untold fortunes on saving my people, you, my dear priestess, will be having a meeting with an assassin’s blade.’ He stood up to leave. ‘Listen to that, Rubria,’ he said, indicating the noise from the city below, ‘the sound of my people begging for my help and who am I to deny them? Goodbye, priestess. Don’t bother screaming for no one can hear you up here but worry not, you won’t be alone for long.’ He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Rubria stared after him in horror, struggling to make sense of the last few minutes. It was not the fact that she was to be killed that worried her but the realisation that the temple was at risk. Her imagination worked overtime as she thought of her fellow priestesses, unaware of the danger they were about to face. She knew she had to warn them and started to struggle against her bonds.

  For half an hour she pulled and strained against the bindings on her wrists but realising she was fighting a losing battle, she started to scream for help.

  For an age, no one came and finally her cries became weaker as her strength failed until she fell silent once more. The distant sounds of panic in the streets filtered into her room and Rubria realised her life had come crashing down around her. The emperor had torn her chastity from her in a brutal assault, the priestesses of Vesta were in danger and more than that, the holy relics of the temple were at risk. She sobbed quietly as she contemplated the tragedy that was befalling Rome.

  A noise from the door made her look up and she gasped as she realised that it was being unlocked. She stared as it eased inward, expecting to see the looming figure of the executioner, come to deal Nero’s judgement. It had only opened a few inches when a tiny hand gripped the edge, opening it further and a tiny, feminine face peered nervously into the room.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, ‘miss, are you in here?’

  Rubria caught her breath as she recognised the slave girl she had blessed a few days earlier.

  ‘Rose?’ she asked, ‘is that you?’

  ‘Oh, miss,’ said the girl as she noticed her in the gloom, ‘what has he done to you?’

  ‘Rose, you have to get me out of here, there is little time.’

  The slave ran to Rubria’s side and struggl
ed with her bonds.

  ‘Quickly,’ insisted Rubria.

  ‘They are too tight, miss,’ she said, ‘I’ll get a knife.’ She ran from the room and Rubria waited in fear.

  Eventually she heard footsteps approaching once more but her initial relief was cut short as she realised the footsteps were slower, heavier and more considered. The door flung open and Rubria looked into the face of a giant black man dressed in a white toga.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked nervously.

  ‘You know who I am,’ sneered the man.

  ‘The executioner,’ she said simply.

  He nodded and walked slowly toward her, drawing a blade from a sheath beneath his robes.

  ‘Wait,’ she said, ‘you don’t have to do this.’

  ‘Oh but I do,’ he said, ‘my master has decreed it.’

  ‘But, you don’t understand,’ she said desperately, ‘I can make it worth your while. If you release me, I can get you money.’

  ‘I have no need of money, lady, my master ensures I want for nothing.’

  ‘Please, you have to listen,’ she said as he drew near, ‘there is more at stake here than just my life. The temple of Vesta is at risk.’

  He stared at her, unmoved.

  ‘Your gods hold no sway over my life, lady and my gods forsook me a long time ago. Nothing you say will change your fate. The only question is do I enjoy your body before my blade cuts your undoubtedly beautiful neck?’

  Rubria’s eyes welled with tears.

  ‘Please,’ she begged, ‘I care not for myself. Have your way if you must but please, once done you must release me. I have to get to the temple.’

  The executioner gave an evil smile.

  ‘Enough talk,’ he said, ‘this is what is going to happen. First, of all, I will cut those robes from your back, the better to see this beautiful body I have heard so much about. Then I will show you what you have been missing all these years as a virgin. Your death is inevitable, lady but the manner of dying is in your hands. Respond warmly and I promise your death will be painless and quick. If you are cold, then you will die in a way you cannot even imagine. Trust me, lady, I know a thousand ways to kill you.’

  ‘No,’ she gasped, ‘please, don’t do this.’

  ‘Too late, lady,’ he said, ‘your fate is sealed.’ He took a step toward her but stopped suddenly in confusion, looking down at the point of a blade protruding from his chest. A large red stain spread rapidly on his white tunic as he turned slowly to stare at Rose who was backing away from him in fear.

  ‘You,’ he gasped and took a step toward her, the hilt of a gladius sticking out of his back.

  Rose backed up against a wall and cringed in fear as the executioner staggered toward her. Halfway across the room he dropped his knife and fell to his knees.

  ‘You bitch,’ he said, ‘I will kill you for this,’ and crawled across the room. Less than a few paces away, he fell onto his face coughing up blood onto the shining marble floor. Rose edged past him and placing her foot on his back, withdrew the gladius. She placed the point of the sword on the back of his neck.

  ‘This is for every girl that’s ever suffered beneath your stinking body, Lembus,’ she said and thrust the blade down to sever his spine.

  Rubria closed her eyes in disgust as the man died beneath the blade.

  Rose stood above him, breathing hard. Eventually she regained her senses and turned toward Rubria, sword in hand. She ran forward and using the blade, cut the binds around the priestess’ wrists.

  ‘Don’t worry, miss,’ she said, ‘I’ll get you out of here.’

  ‘Who was he?’ asked Rubria.

  ‘His name was Lembus,’ said Rose, ‘he used to be a slave but won his freedom and the trust of the emperor many years ago.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He and some other slaves were paid by one of his enemies to assassinate the emperor but he betrayed his comrades and told Nero of the plan. The plotters were crucified and Lembus was given a role within the palace as slave overseer. He also became Nero’s chief executioner and held sway over many of the household staff. He raped freely and if any resisted, they conveniently disappeared.’

  The corded rope fell apart from the attentions of the blade and Rubria stood up, rubbing her wrists to improve the circulation.

  ‘Are you alright, miss?’ asked Rose.

  ‘Worry not for me, Rose, there are those who are in greater danger. Come, there is little time.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Rose, ‘we can’t go through the palace.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Nero surrounds himself with loyal guards and they would stop you leaving. It is no secret you are here and he has been boasting amongst his bodyguards about what he has been doing to you. If they see you attempting to leave, you would be held until his return.’

  ‘Is there another way?’ asked Rubria.

  ‘Yes,’ said Rose after a moment of thought, ‘though it is beneath someone as holy as you.’

  ‘My holiness has long gone, Rose, I just need to get out of here before it is too late.’

  ‘Then come with me,’ said Rose, ‘I will get you back to your temple.’ She led Rubria out of the cell and down a side passage. At each doorway or junction, she signalled Rubria to wait until the coast was clear before hurrying on into the lower levels where the servants were quartered. Finally, they ended up in an empty room, lined on each side with a wooden topped, stone bench. Along each wooden seat were several round holes.

  ‘This is it, miss,’ said Rose.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘this is a latrine, there is no way out.’

  ‘There are many ways out of the palace, miss but all will be guarded by Nero’s personal guard. There is only one exit that is not manned and that is here.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Through the sewers.’

  Rubria’s face dropped as she realised the implications.

  ‘Is there no other way?’ she asked.

  ‘No, miss. The palace is heavily guarded and you would be caught in minutes. This sewer leads under the palace walls and to the base of the Palatine.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘if this is such a good escape route, surely it would be guarded against the escape of slaves.’

  Rose looked at her in silence.

  ‘Sorry, Rose, I didn’t mean…’

  ‘Don’t worry so, miss,’ she replied, ‘I know what I am and you are right. It would seem that this is indeed a good escape route. But most slaves see no need to run from the palace. It is warm, we are fed and apart from the attentions of some of the soldiers, it is relatively good life. Tens of thousands of slaves across Rome have it far worse than us and anyway, even if we escaped, where would we run? As soon as the alarm was raised, we would be caught before we reached the city walls. It has been attempted but all have been caught and are crucified in front of the rest. We are forced to watch until the victim breathes their last breath and sometimes that takes days. No, overall, the fate of those who stay is like heaven compared to the alternative.’

  ‘So why are you helping me?’ asked Rubria, ‘surely if you are found out, your fate also lies on the cross.’

  ‘As a little girl back in my homeland, my mother used to take me to the temple of the goddess to worship,’ answered Rose, ‘but my father ran up huge debts and had to sell me into slavery to pay his way. I was brought here and grew up with only this as a reminder of my family.’ She pulled out a necklace from beneath her tunic and held up a tiny wooden carving.

  ‘You are a worshiper?’ asked Rubria.

  ‘Yes, miss and as I got older and realised the Vestal temple lay at the foot of the palace, I became the perfect servant in order to gain favour. Soon, I was being allowed out on errands and whenever possible, I would seek blessing at the gates of the temple. So you see, I could not stand by and watch a priestess die at the hands of a monster, I only wish I could have come sooner.’

  ‘Oh, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘you
have done more than enough. I will take the tunnels you speak of, no matter how despicable. You must come with me and seek the protection of the temple.’

  ‘I can’t do that, miss,’ said Rose sullenly.

  ‘Why not?’

  Rose hesitated.

  ‘The phasma,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Phasma?’ queried Rubria.

  ‘It is said the tunnels are haunted, miss,’ said the slave, ‘and I know I am probably very stupid but I can’t help what I believe. The spirits of many people walk the tunnels and I would rather die myself than meet them in the darkness. Besides, I need to do something out here.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘why don’t you just come with me? I will look after you, Rose and when we get out of here, the order of Vesta will ensure you are given a good life.’

  ‘I would gladly come, miss,’ she said, ‘but at the end of the sewer is an iron grill blocking the path. It is locked from the outside but I can leave the palace without raising suspicion and will open it for you to pass.’

  ‘Do you have the key?’ asked Rubria.

  ‘No but I know where to get it.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘On the belt of Lembus.’

  Rubria stared at the slave girl in horror.

  ‘Rose, you can’t go back up there,’ she said, ‘his body may have already been found.’

  ‘I have no choice,’ she said, ‘It did not occur to me to get the key at the time. The only thing is if you go into the sewers and I am caught, then you will be stuck down there with no chance of escape.’

  ‘It is a chance I have to take,’ said Rubria, ‘I will go through the sewer and welcome it as a penance for my sins. If it is the great mother’s will that I die in filth, then I will go to my death knowing I have not failed her.’

  ‘But you are not sinful,’ said Rose, ‘you are a Vestal Virgin, the very essence of purity.’

  ‘Not any more, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘perhaps my sin is of self-importance and vanity. Perhaps it was I who led our Emperor on and if it was not for the safety of my fellow sisters, then I would gladly have met the blade of Lembus with head held high.’