Oracle Dreams Trilogy

by Teri Barnett

  Scanning the various messages, she realized they weren’t scandalous but motivated by justice and politics. Free Honoria, Tiberius is innocent, and I’m voting for Salerno. If she had read them in her time, she would have had a hundred questions for Fiorelli, but her fear was uppermost in her mind.

  One of the men shouted at her to get moving and gave her a shove to make his point. Her exhaustion made her stumble and she tripped over the threshold, falling flat on her face inside the jail.

  “What have you brought me now, Lucius?” the jailer asked as he rose lazily from his couch. “Runaway slave?”

  “A witch, Maurus,” Lucius whispered.

  Maurus rolled his eyes and sighed. “Not another one. I wish the damned senate had left well enough alone. We’ve always had soothsayers and we always will, law or no law.”

  He poked his head out the door where the surly crowd had begun to chant ‘witch, witch, witch’ once more.

  “These fools need another gladiator competition in the coliseum to whet their appetites.” He shook his head. “Go home, all of you. Don’t you have anything better to do with your day?” he called to the gathering.

  “Banish her!” a man shouted.

  “Kill her!” another man yelled.

  Maurus pushed Valerie behind him and planted his meaty hands on his hips. “You superstitious old fools. What makes you think she’s a witch?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why, she looks like a waif. Probably an escaped slave from Oplontis. I’ll see to it she’s dealt with properly. Now, go home before I arrest the lot of you.” Maurus grunted with satisfaction as the mob began to disperse, their shouts reduced to a few murmurs and grumbles.

  Valerie shifted against the wall where she was leaning for support, and her shackles clattered against the stone floor.

  What is to become of me?

  Maurus sat down and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “So, tell me Lucius, what makes you think she’s a witch?”

  “Why, just look at her!” Lucius grabbed Valerie by the shoulder and drew her forward.

  An indignant huff escaped her, and she swung at him with her fist. Losing her balance, she missed her mark and fell to her knees.

  “Look at those clothes. Only a witch would wear such odd garments.” He leaned forward and whispered, “She was seen climbing out of a tomb, carrying a staff for casting spells and raising the dead.”

  “And where is this magical staff of hers?”

  “I broke it myself.” Lucius patted his chest proudly. “She hefted the vile thing and was about to curse us all with it, I tell you.”

  Maurus’s gaze traveled over Valerie’s form. “Her clothes are strange, I’ll give you that.” He leaned forward. “What were you doing in the Necropolis, girl?”

  Valerie took a deep breath.

  What do I say?

  Did she dare tell him she was hiding from an earthquake in the year 1865? Would he even believe her if she did? She must be a terrible sight with her dress torn and covered with dirt. As she considered her options, she lifted a hand to smooth her stray locks.

  The man called Lucius grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back, wrenching a moan of pain from her, and forcing her to her knees.

  “See? She was going to send a curse your way.” His eyes narrowed. “Listen to how she talks. Go ahead, witch.” Say something.”

  Maurus leaned forward. “Well?”

  Lucius pulled Valerie to her feet and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out again as the chains dug into the tender skin of her ankles. She continued to stare straight at the jailer as tears streaked her face. It would do no good to explain herself to these two. They had already made up their minds about her.

  She squared her shoulders,

  I’m damned either way. To the devil with all of them.

  “Speak to me, or things will be worse for you,” he warned.

  Lucius yanked the chain between her legs. Valerie immediately fell to the hard tile floor again. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Sitting up, she tried to tuck her legs under her and almost gagged at the bloody and bruised mess her legs had become.

  In the name of God, what am I doing here? Surely, Papa will march in that door at any moment to take me home. Dear Papa. Isn’t he always there to rescue me when I need it most?

  “A stubborn one, aren’t you? Well, if you won’t obey me, there’s only one thing left for me to do.” Maurus’ eyes bore into hers. He grabbed the front of Valerie’s blouse and pulled her up until she could feel his hot breath on her face. “Lock you up.”

  “Lock me up?” Valerie repeated, her voice ragged from the dust of the streets. No sooner had the words spilled out than she put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. So much for her resolve.

  “You can speak.” He nodded toward Lucius, his eyes never leaving Valerie’s. “You’re right. Her voice is different. Definitely not from here.” He continued to watch her. “Not a true Roman citizen, anyhow. Do you have proof of freedwoman status?”

  Valerie shook her head, a terrible sense of dread building in her. She knew from her studies how important such a piece of documentation was to anyone traveling in a Roman city.

  “Well, that leaves me with just one alternative. Since you carry no papers, I must assume you are an escaped slave.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ll be sold at the market tomorrow morning.”

  Maurus reached out and roughly handled her breasts. “You’re a little too skinny for my tastes, but your curves are all in the right places. I’d say you’ll make a fine house slave for some lucky master anyway.”

  “How dare you touch me?” Valerie took a swing at Maurus as she tried to break free of his grasp.

  Maurus laughed, the loud grating sound bounced off the stone walls and echoed in her head. The pain from his rough handling was compounded by her exhaustion and thirst. She put her hands over her ears, trying to wrench herself free as she fought to stay alert, but it was too much. Her last thoughts were of her family and home as she collapsed to the ground in a heap.

  Valerie cracked open her eyes and moaned. She must have fainted. She found herself on the cold, hard floor of the cell. “You must let me out of here,” Valerie pleaded, as the heavy iron door was shut. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “That’s exactly what every criminal says,” Maurus said through the window. “You should consider yourself lucky.” He chuckled. “You only have to stay one night and then you’ll be sold. Most of my guests stay much longer and they usually end up getting the lash or the cross.

  “Crucifixion?” Valerie whispered brokenly, her face growing pale.

  “Ah, so you do know more than you let on. That’s what happens to runaway slaves.” His eyes narrowed. “Best to keep that in mind, in case you have any other ideas.”

  Valerie heard Maurus’ heavy footsteps fade away, taking the torch with him. If it wasn’t for the glow of the moon beaming through the small window, she’d be in total darkness. Without her cane, she had to use the wall for support as she stood and shuffled to the small straw mattress in the corner, the iron shackles grinding against the floor.

  I have to stay calm.

  She let her breath out slowly, as she eased onto the cot. If she ruminated too much about everything that had happened to her, she’d go mad for certain. Next to the pallet sat a bowl of tepid water and a round loaf of bread. She touched the bread. It was rock hard. Valerie’s stomach growled and she put her hand over it.

  Why didn’t I eat this morning when I had the chance?

  Valerie hit the loaf against the wall and a small piece broke off. She dipped it in the water and took a bite. Chewing carefully, she reached down and pulled up her skirt. She coughed and choked on the bread when she saw her legs. The fine woolen stockings were in blood-stained shreds where the shackles were still clamped. Valerie tore off seve
ral pieces of her skirt hem and, after wetting them down, tucked them under the bands of iron. She started to take another bite of the bread. Her stomach wretched.

  To compound her nausea, the sour smell of urine and sweat pervaded the cell and assaulted her senses. Her eyes burned and started to water. She tried so hard not to gag but the combination was too much to withstand. Crawling over to the opposite corner of the cramped cell, her stomach heaved harder this time, dispensing itself of the meager fare she’d just consumed. She vomited again and again, until nothing remained in her but the bitter taste of bile.

  Dear God, please let me go home…

  Valerie wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her torn and dirty blouse. A wave of panic ran through her.

  What if I’m stranded here forever?

  She shuddered and began to rock back and forth.

  Maybe I’m going mad.

  She held her head with trembling hands.

  Maybe I never left England. Maybe I’m still at home. Maybe Mama and Papa are right here, and I just can’t see them. “Mama,” she whispered, “I’m here.” She listened for a moment. There was no response.

  An old woman’s cackle echoed off the stone walls of the damp jail and jarred her memory. Hekate.

  My God. She said I’d have to travel through the mists. Was this what she meant? How could she have known? Why didn’t she warn me?

  Wearily, Valerie crawled back to the mattress and lay against the hard, cold wall, too exhausted to think anymore.

  From somewhere in the darkness of the jail, a thin reedy voice began to sing. The words were slurred and nonsensical, but the melody gave her something to focus on outside of herself. After a few moments, she began to hum along with the other prisoner, finally drifting off to sleep just before dawn.

  Chapter 16

  “Wake up,” a voice called.

  Valerie stirred. “Go away, Reg,” she murmured and turned over.

  “I said wake up!” the voice shouted this time.

  Valerie’s eyes flew open and she sat up. As her sight came into focus, she rubbed her forehead. Maurus was standing on the threshold of the cell.

  Dear Lord, I wasn’t dreaming.

  The night had come and gone and still she was in ancient Pompeii. She struggled to her feet and almost immediately tumbled back down onto the mattress. The chains had done their damage. Her legs were stiff and swollen, even her good foot wouldn’t support her.

  “I–I can’t,” she whispered.

  “For the love of Zeus,” Maurus cursed. He walked up to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up. “Now move.”

  Valerie stumbled and fell against the wall, scraping her cheek. “Please. I need something to lean on while I walk.”

  Maurus looked at her suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

  She turned around and pressed her back against the wall. The cool stone penetrated her clothing and helped soothe the mad fever building up inside of her. “Your friend Lucius. He broke my cane. I can’t walk without it—or something like it,” she explained, her voice breathless.

  “Well you won’t get one.” He laughed. “You think I want my head banged in?”

  “Then you’ll either have to carry me or drag me out of here.” She shook her head. “You don’t understand, do you? I need it to walk.”

  Maurus shifted back and forth. “I’m not about to stand here and argue with you, girl.” He gestured with his hand. “Now, get moving before we’re late.”

  Valerie took a deep breath, near tears. She swallowed hard as the now familiar taste of bile worked its way up into the back of her throat. She tried to focus on the jailer’s face.

  I will not give this man the satisfaction of vomiting in front of him.

  She took another deep breath. ”I’m crippled.”

  Oh, how I hate to call myself that word.

  “Prove it,” he ordered.

  She sat down and unlaced the black leather shoe and slipped it off. Her stockings were so torn and ripped from the chains, her foot poked through. Valerie raised her left foot slightly. “See?”

  Maurus removed the chains and examined the crooked toes and turned heel. “All right.” He nodded and left the cell as she put her shoe back on. Returning a few moments later, he handed her a waist high, straight stick of red cedar.

  Valerie leaned on it and stood. The wood was rough and aromatic as she ran her hand over it. “Thank you.”

  He yanked her arm and pulled her through the jail cell door. “Don’t even act as if you’re going to use that as a weapon or you can crawl the rest of the way to the Forum. Is that understood?”

  She nodded, holding her tongue. It would do no good to rile the man any further. She needed the use of a cane if she hoped to escape. Valerie took a step. Her legs felt so light, now that they were free of the shackles. She took another and limped ahead of Maurus and out of the jail.

  Off to the side of the street, several people had gathered. “She won’t bring any money, Maurus,” someone observed. “No one wants a witch in their homes.”

  “Go ahead and put her in a whore house.” The woman who spoke followed Valerie’s movements. “Looks like she’d do best lying on her back anyway.”

  Valerie stiffened and squared her shoulders. People were really no different, no matter what era. The Pompeiians talked about her as if she weren’t there—the same as the people of her own place and time. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  Maurus sighed. “Look, you come into our city and try to raise the dead. I’m duty bound.”

  “But I didn’t—” she interjected.

  He threw up his hands. “You were judged by the people. They saw you come out of the tomb. If it had been a month ago, no one would have given it a second thought.” He absently gave her arm a tug as she started to fall behind. “But the senate just passed a new law banning the practice of witchcraft. I’m just trying to do my job.”

  She glanced at the fine stuccoed buildings around her with their tall pillars and elaborate entries. The city had seemed magical when she’d first arrived with her family. Even the ruins, after so many centuries, had called to her. But now, she saw the truth of it. No magic. Just ignorance.

  A slave girl carrying a small baby stepped to the side as she and Maurus passed by. Was this to be her fate as well? The girl’s gaze met hers. She gave her a small nod and a sad smile as if she’d read Valerie’s mind. It would be so.

  Maurus snorted, breaking into her thoughts. “I don’t agree with those people back there. I think you’ll bring a decent price.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “A wealthy citizen was already asking after you.”

  Valerie’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be Papa? Had he found a way to rescue her? “What did he look like? Did he say if he was a relative?”

  “No.” He paused, swatting at a gnat. “It was a statesman.” He jerked her arm again and pushed her ahead of him. “Quiet now, I’ve had enough of your questions.”

  Valerie raised her eyes as they approached the Forum. Here, all manner of people, both free and slave, passed through the tall, columned entry and into the open, marble-paved center. The massive stone structure occupied several blocks of the city and provided a center for commerce, worship, and meting out judicial decisions.

  Passing through the gates, the pair moved slowly through what Valerie guessed to be the marketplace. All around, vendors hawked their wares. The aroma of boiled onions and garlic, mixed with sweat, permeated the humid air.

  It really wasn’t so different here from the merchant’s section of London, except for the clothing of the shoppers and some of the items they bought. Built close to the sea, Pompeii had a vast selection of fish, octopus, even dolphin. She caught the scent of fermented grapes, then spotted a vintner’s shop. Tall flasks sat in crevices cut into the counter, ready for anyone to purchase.

>   Valerie paused, watching as a man sitting on the ground tried to coax a snake out of a woven basket with a subtle movement of his hands. The crowd clapped and gasped as the creature appeared and seemed to dance in the air.

  Maurus spun on his heel and caught Valerie by the hair. He whipped her around in front of him and flung her to the ground. He stepped over her, hands on his hips. “Don’t wander off like that again. Understand?”

  She nodded and pulled herself to her feet. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You did.” Maurus shook her so hard, her teeth rattled.

  “P-please,” she said, closing her eyes as she fought a wave of dizziness. After a moment, she opened her eyes and wished she had fainted…

  There, straight ahead, was the slave market. Wooden stalls, smaller than what horses were kept in back home, lined a long wall. In each stall, the slave stood, scantily clad, while prospective buyers—pinched and poked, looking in mouths and examining teeth.

  Nearby a naked man stood on a wood platform, forced to parade back and forth in front of the crowd as bids flew about. Valerie’s eyes skittered away from the sight only to land on a woman lying in the straw with a sign around her neck stating she was a thief. The slave sobbed and rocked from side to side.

  “Why is she crying?” Valerie asked, her voice strained.

  “She knows no one will want a slave that steals. She was a fine lady’s servant but will now end up working in the fields for the rest of her life. Unless no one buys her. Then she’ll be put to death.” Maurus pointed to an empty stall. “There. Take your place.”

  I have to escape from here.

  Valerie scanned the area, spying an alley that led to an exit. As Maurus was intent on unlocking the stall, she began to shuffle away, keeping her eyes on Maurus as she did so. When his back was fully turned away from her, she gripped her cane and with all the strength she had in her, hobbled to the alley.