“What?”
“The temple room. What was inside? Did Pompey ever say?”
“Oh, I think so. I can’t remember rightly, but it wasn’t anything worth writing home about. Some old manuscripts and a few trinkets. I think that was all. But that’s not the point of my story, Lucius. That’s not what permanently etched every detail of that day into my memory for all time.”
“What then?”
“It was what the old priest said to Pompey as he lay there crumpled, his blood spilling down the very steps Pompey had just ascended – and not just what he said, but the manner in which he said it. The old bastard had been gutted by a gladius. He was dying with every breath, but his face bore no pain. It had a savage look of hatred that sent chills through even the toughest of us.”
“What did he say?”
“He pointed a bloody finger at our general, and said in a loud and clear voice, ‘A curse on you and your seed, Pompey of Rome! A curse upon all who befriend you! A curse on the nation that bore you, and on any city that bears your name! Hear this now, and remember! You march haughtily into The Lord’s holy place today, but a day is coming when you will walk alone, when you will be pursued like a common criminal and driven from all lands. You will die by Roman hands. You will die like a butchered animal. You will die alone, but your loved ones will see your death. You will die far from Rome and be buried in an unmarked grave!’” Vitalis paused, his face suddenly grim. “I have never forgotten it. It is strange. Of course, on that day, we all laughed. Pompey walked on inside the temple and the old priest died on the steps. Who would ever think that the great Pompey would be anything but the first man of Rome? But ever since that day, I have wondered. Could it all happen just as the old priest said?”
“Surely not.”
“I don’t know, Lucius. I thought the same as you, until a fortnight after the battle. It was dusk, and the men of my contubernium had latrine duty just outside the city walls. We heard a man scream, and turned to see that a stone brick, large as a man, had dislodged itself from the wall above us. It fell nearly five stories, and landed directly on the man next to me, smashing him to a pulp.”
“The walls were old, I’m sure,” offered Lucius. “Either that, or some Jew dropped it over the side.”
“No, no. You weren’t there, Lucius. The walls were sound. There was no Jew, and no five men alive could have hefted that stone.”
“Surely, there is an explanation.”
“There is,” Vitalis said, looking at him intensely. “The crushed man was the very same soldier who slew the priest.”
Lucius smiled. “Come now, Vitalis.”
“It’s true. I swear it on the medal of bravery.” He pointed to a medallion on his mail shirt. “And think about it, Lucius. The priest’s prophecy could well come true, now. Trouble started for Pompey the moment he returned to Rome from that campaign, and it has not stopped since. The Senate fighting him over land and pensions for his troops – one of the reasons I joined up again, you know that. They say Caesar and Pompey are now at odds. Someone on staff told me letters are flying fast between Caesar and Rome. Pompey and the senators are talking of war crimes, and prosecution.”
Lucius sighed, not much caring about the politicians or their games.
“But, I am getting away from what I wanted to tell you about, Lucius.” He took a long gulp from the cup, before continuing. “When the Seventh had just arrived in Gaul, and we were chasing the Helvetii from one end of the land to the other, I had an experience that affected me much like the one in Jerusalem. You remember the fight on the hill, when the Helvetii took their sweet time putting their wagons in lager before moving to attack us? That time when you damned near got skewered by a dart, had I not pushed you out of the way.”
Lucius nodded.
“After the battle, as you remember, we rounded up a good deal of the females and children to make slaves of them. Some to serve the army, and some to send back to Rome, Well, in the frenzy of wailing women and screaming infants, I caught sight of a face in the crowd staring back at me – a woman’s face. The brow was crinkled and the eyes were locked onto mine. The next moment, it was gone, lost in a mass of thousands.”
“Perhaps she found you attractive, Vitalis.”
“I saw it for only a heartbeat,” Vitalis continued as though he had not heard the remark. “But in that heartbeat, I saw every line, every crevice, every feature, and eyes that could pierce stone. Her expression struck me. It was not the look of suffering, or that of fear, as you might expect of one being led off into a life of captivity. Instead, she gazed at me with a look of disgust, of extreme disapproval. There were several legions of Romans on the field that day, but she looked at me as if I, and I alone, were responsible.”
“Responsible for what?”
“I wish I knew. It sent chills up my spine, I’ll admit it to you, Lucius. I’ve fought Gauls painted blue and looking like the stuff of nightmares, but they never affected me as that single solemn face in the crowd. And I haven’t even told you the worst of it.” Vitalis took another drink and then glanced at Lucius in a nervous manner, very unlike the stout centurion that Lucius knew him to be. It appeared to bring him great pain to continue. “You see, Lucius, after I thought about it for awhile, I realized that I knew that face. I had seen it before, just not anywhere within a thousand miles of that place. I recognized it, and though I had not laid eyes on it in many a year, I knew it like I knew my own reflection. You see, it was the face of my mother.”
Lucius cleared his throat and looked at him uncomfortably. “You mean she resembled your mother?”
“No!” Vitalis slammed the cup down, suddenly agitated. “It was my mother, damn you! It was her! There is no doubt in my mind!”
Allowing Vitalis to recover his wits, Lucius said nothing, but contemplated the unlikelihood of such a thing. Years ago, when they were both in the ranks, Vitalis had once spoken of how his mother had died in a shipwreck when he was just a boy. The body was never recovered.
“Once I realized who it was,” Vitalis went on in a forced tempered manner. “I sought her out as best as I could. I searched every division of the prisoners, begging them, pleading with them to help me find her. Asked did they know of a Roman woman among them, gave her description down to the wave of her hair, but they only returned blank stares. None wanted to help me, or none had heard of her. Of course, there were thousands of slaves, and I could not possibly have laid eyes on every one in my search, so I sent letters off to my kin, in Spain and in Rome, asking them to look into the matter once the slave caravan arrived there. I have been waiting more than a year now for a response. None has ever come. No doubt they all think me mad.” Vitalis sighed heavily and covered his face with one hand, as if he was suddenly overcome with emotion. “And now this happens today, and I am at my wits end, Lucius. I believe they may be right. I may be going mad.”
“What happened today?” Lucius asked, but surmised that he knew the answer.
“That old woman. I didn’t see her face until I had slain her.” Vitalis was sobbing now. “It was her, Lucius! It was my mother!”
Lucius shifted in his chair. “How can that be?”
“I don’t know. I don’t, I don’t. She had the same damn condemnatory look, just as she had a year ago – even as she bled to death. Then she spoke to me, Lucius. She spoke to me. It was my mother’s voice. I’ll never forget that voice.”
“What did she say?” Lucius asked, though he was less eager to hear the answer than he was to try to discern just how far Vitalis’s brain had degenerated. There could be no doubt now that the centurion was hallucinating. Lucius had seen it before in other legionaries, though seldom.
As if he was reading Lucius’s thoughts, Vitalis’s sobbing suddenly ceased. He looked into Lucius’s eyes solemnly. “Do you think me mad, my friend? Does a mad man confide only in one he trusts, or does he tell the world? I know it seems fantastic, but I swear in my mind this has happened!” He looked at his hands. “These hands have slain the mother that bore them! I am cursed, Lucius – cursed!”