At last, I thought, we shall get down to business. I peered between the curtains again. It seemed that we were approaching the Forum. What possible business could we have among the temples and public squares in the middle of the night?
"As you probably know, Gordianus, one of the younger Vestals happens to be a relative of mine."
"No, I didn't know."
"A relative by marriage, anyway; Fabia is my wife's half sister, and therefore my sister-in-law."
"But the Vestal under investigation is the Virgo Maxima, Licinia."
"Yes, the scandal involved only Licinia… until the events of this evening."
"Cicero, are you being deliberately obscure?"
"Very well. Something occurred earlier tonight in the House of the Vestals. Something quite terrible. Unthinkable! Something which threatens not only to destroy Fabia, but to throw calumny upon the very institution of the Vestals, and to undermine the whole religious establishment of Rome." Cicero lowered his voice, which had begun to rise to orator's pitch. "I have no doubt that the prosecution of Licinia and Crassus is somehow related to this latest disaster; there is an organized conspiracy afoot to spread doubt and chaos in the city, using the Vestals as a starting point. If my years in the Forum have taught me anything, it is that some Roman politicians will stop at nothing!"
He leaned forward and clutched my arm. "You are aware that this year marks the tenth anniversary of the fire which razed the Temple of Jupiter and destroyed the Sibylline oracles? The masses are superstitious, Gordianus; they are quite ready to believe that on the tenth anniversary of such a terrible catastrophe, something equally terrible must occur. Now it has. Whether it was manufactured by gods or by men, that is the question."
The litter gave a final lurch and came to a halt. Cicero released his grip on my arm, sat back and sighed. "We have reached your destination."
I pulled back the curtains and saw the colonnaded facade of the House of the Vestals.
"Cicero, I may not be an expert in religious matters, but I do know that for a man to enter the House of the Vestals after dark is an offense punishable by death. I hope you don't expect me-"
"Tonight is not like other nights, Gordianus."
"Cicero! Back at last!" The voice from the darkness was oddly familiar. A shock of red hair entered the circle of torch-light and I recognized young Marcus Valerius Messalla Rufus- called Rufus on account of his flaming hair-whom I had not seen, close at hand, in the seven years since he had assisted Cicero with the defense of Sextus Roscius. He had been only sixteen then, a boy with red cheeks and a freckled nose; now he was a religious official, one of the youngest men ever elected to the college of augurs, entrusted with interpreting the will of the gods by reading omens in lightning and the flights of birds. He still looked very much like a boy to me. In spite of the obvious gravity of the moment, his eyes shone brightly and he smiled as he stepped toward Cicero and took his hand; it seemed that his love for his mentor had not diminished over the years.
"Rufus will take you from here," said Cicero.
"What?. You've roused me from bed in the middle of the night, carried me halfway across Rome, given me no clear explanation, and now you abandon me?"
"I thought I made it clear that I must not be seen to have any connection whatsoever with tonight's events. Fabia called on the Virgo Maxima for help, who called on Rufus, who is known to her; together they summoned me, knowing my family connection to Fabia; I fetched you, Gordianus-and that is the end of my involvement." He gestured impatiently for me to step from the litter. As soon as my feet touched the paving stones, without even a last farewell, he clapped his hands and the litter lurched into motion. Rufus and I watched it depart in the direction of Cicero's house on the Capitoline Hill.
"There goes an extraordinary man," sighed Rufus. I was thinking something quite different, but bit my tongue. The litter turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
Before us was the entrance to the House of the Vestals. Twin braziers stood at either side; flickering shadows danced across the wide, steep stairway. But the house itself was dark, its high wooden doors thrown shut. Normally they stood open, day and night-for who would dare to enter the abode of the Vestals uninvited or with evil intent? Across the way, the round Temple of Vesta was strangely lit up, and from it came a soft chanting on the still night air.
"Gordianus!" said Rufus. "How strange to see you again, after so many years. I hear of you now and again-"
"As I hear of you, and see you occasionally, presiding at some public or private invocation of the auspices. Nothing important can happen in Rome without an augur present to read the omens. You must stay very busy, Rufus."
He shrugged. "There are fifteen augurs in all, Gordianus. I'm the youngest, and only a beginner. Many of the mysteries are still just that to me-mysteries."
"Lightning on the left, good; lightning on the right, bad. And if the person you're divining for is displeased with the result, you have only to face the opposite direction, reversing right and left. It seems rather simple."
Rufus compressed his lips. "I see that you're as skeptical of religion as Cicero. Yes, a great deal of it is empty formula and politics. But there is another element, the perception of which requires, I suppose, a certain sensibility on the part of the perceiver."
"And do you foresee lightning tonight?" I said, sniffing the air.
He smiled faintly. "Actually, yes, I think it may rain. But we mustn't stand here talking, where anyone could see us. Come along." He started up the steps.
"Into the House of the Vestals? At this hour?"
"The Virgo Maxima herself is awaiting us, Gordianus. Come along!"
Dubiously, I followed him up the stairs. He knocked softly on one of the doors, which swung silently inward. Taking a deep breath, I followed him over the threshold.
We stood in a lofty foyer that opened onto a central courtyard, surrounded all about by a colonnaded walkway. All was dark; not a single torch was lit. The long, shallow pool in the center of the courtyard was black and full of stars, its glassy surface broken only by some reeds that grew from the center.
I felt a sudden superstitious dread. Hackles rose on the back of my neck, a sheen of sweat erupted on my forehead and I was unable to breathe. My heart pounded so hard that I thought the noise must be loud enough to wake a sleeping virgin. I wanted to clutch Rufus's arm and hiss into his ear that we must go back to the Forum, at once-so deep is the fear of the forbidden ingrained from childhood, when one hears tales of men found skulking in sacred precincts and made to suffer unimaginable punishments. Ironically, I thought, it is only through association with the most respectable people in the world-like Cicero and Rufus-that a man can suddenly, unexpectedly find himself in the most forbidden spot in all Rome, at an hour when his mere presence could mean death. One moment, innocently asleep in my own bed, and the next-in the House of the Vestals!
There was a faint noise behind us. I turned to see a vague white shape in the darkness, which by degrees resolved itself into a woman. She must have opened the door for us, but she was not a slave. She was one of the Vestals, as I could tell by her appearance-her hair was cut quite short, and around her forehead she wore a broad white band like a diadem, decorated with ribbons. She was dressed in a plain white stola, and about her shoulders she wore the white linen mantle of the Vestals.
She flicked her fingers, and I felt drops of water on my face. "Be purified," she whispered. "Do you swear by the goddess of the hearth that you enter this house with no evil intent, and at the request of the mistress of this house, who is the Virgo Maxima, the highest priestess of Vesta?"