The stones, or whatever they were, continued to pour down on the villa in a never-ending stream, while the sky grew darker until it was almost as black as night. Sirona didn’t think it was wise to try and leave at present, but she really wasn’t well informed enough to make such a decision. ‘Order the servants to light the lamps, Amyria, and gather what food and water they can. We’ll remain here for now.’ She hid her own fear as she smiled reassuringly at her maid. ‘As soon as this lessens or stops, we’ll go to Pompeii and take refuge with Lucius’s sister Julia.’
Taranis knew that Julia was very scared and he could understand why; he was feeling a little unsettled himself. It wasn’t an earthquake but something equally strange was happening, a phenomenon he could not explain. He stood by the barred window of his cell, staring at the steady stream of greyish white rocks pouring down on to the quadrangle. It was late afternoon by his reckoning but it was so dark now it seemed to be night. Would this end soon and if so would something even more terrible come next?
Julia felt safer staying here with him and it would not have been wise to let her return home at present, as there would probably be panic on the streets. What frustrated Taranis most of all was that the guards had refused to let him and the other men out of their cells. If they had any sense, they would have released everyone before making a run for it themselves, preferably trying to reach the coast. Maybe it was just an instinctive reaction on his part, but that was what he would do if given the choice – just get the hell out of here as quickly as possible.
He was still trying to figure out how he could persuade, or force, the guards to release him, when the door of his cell was flung open and a ghostly white vision stepped inside. The door slammed shut, as the man, covered from head to foot in ash, threw back the hood of his cloak.
‘Borax,’ Julia gasped.
‘My lady.’ Borax gave a wheezing cough. ‘Conditions are bad outside and I know that you might consider it wiser to stay under cover at present.’ He paused and looked towards Taranis. ‘I’ve no idea why this is happening, but my gut instinct tells me that this is a very bad omen and might be a precursor to something far worse. Perhaps a much stronger earthquake?’
‘Earthquake?’ Julia repeated nervously.
‘Not necessarily an earthquake,’ Borax amended. ‘But I fear something terrible might happen and, in the circumstances, like many other citizens, I feel it wiser for us to leave the city and move further along the coast. I took it upon myself to send the slaves away. I’ve told them not to return until conditions here improve. Something tells me that the further away from the mountain we get the better, this is all coming from Vesuvius.’
‘You should leave, Julia.’ Taranis stepped over to her and gently pulled her to her feet. ‘Please. I’d like to think you were safe.’
‘I won’t leave without you.’ She clung on to him.
‘The guards won’t let me just walk out of here,’ he told her. ‘The Laniste left orders to keep us all locked in our cells.’
‘What guards?’ Borax said in a low voice, as he stepped over to Taranis. ‘I only saw three or four at the most.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I suspect that the others have already fled.’
‘Three or four against almost two hundred,’ Taranis repeated softly. ‘No wonder they’ve kept us locked up.’ He looked penetratingly at Borax. ‘You know that we can’t leave them imprisoned. If your worst fears should come to fruition, and there is another terrible earthquake, they’d most likely all perish.’
‘It would be wiser to have armed men to accompany us, my lady.’ Borax picked up Julia’s cloak and placed it around her shoulders. ‘There is chaos on the streets, a number of people have been hurt, trampled upon.’ He glanced meaningfully at Taranis. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’ Taranis positioned himself, as Borax stepped forwards and banged loudly on the door.
‘We are ready to leave,’ he shouted.
Taranis tensed, as he heard the bolt being drawn back. When the door was pulled open, he charged through it, shouldering the surprised guard aside, then swung round and punched the man squarely on the chin. His head snapped back and he crumpled to the ground.
‘He’ll only be out for a short while,’ Taranis told Julia, as she and Borax joined him. ‘When he awakes and finds everyone gone, perhaps he’ll have sense enough to leave also.’
‘What now?’ Borax instinctively looked to Taranis for leadership.
So far there was no sign of the other guards. Above the soft thudding sound of the pumice falling to the ground could be heard shouting and swearing coming from the other cells.
‘We’ll release the men and give them a choice. They can come with us, or take their chances elsewhere. Once they are all free, I doubt the guards will have any objection to us leaving.’ Taranis picked up the guard’s sword along with the heavy bunch of keys he’d had clipped to his belt, and then turned to look at Julia. ‘Sirona and your brother?’
‘Don’t worry. Lucius told me that he and Sirona were leaving early this morning to visits friends just outside Herculaneum.’
‘One less thing to worry about,’ he said with relief, handing the keys to Borax. ‘Once we’ve released all the men, we’ll go to the armoury.’ Stepping out from the cover of the portico, he held out his arm. ‘I don’t think these stones can do that much damage but travelling still won’t be pleasant. We’ll wear amour and helmets to protect ourselves.’
Sirona had found a large amphora of sweet Falernian wine and ordered it distributed among the slaves. They were used to Posca, a vinegary wine diluted with water, so this was something to be enjoyed and with the stronger alcoholic contact came courage. The stones seemed to have been raining down on the villa for hours.
She hoped that, once Lucius realised what was happening in Pompeii, he would come for her; in the meantime, she had to be patient and stay calm. Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on the outer door. ‘Lucius,’ she gasped in relief.
The doorkeeper had fled along with at least half of the other slaves, so one of the house servants rushed to the door and pulled it open. Sirona was surprised to see a number of people, at least ten or more, crowd into the atrium. Their long cloaks were all thickly covered in white ash. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, as the first man threw off his cloak and she saw it was Aulus Vettius. At least he had lived here most of his life so he might know more about these strange happenings, but she was also still very scared of him and Lucius wasn’t here to protect her.
‘Senator.’ She stepped forwards to greet him. ‘What brings you here on such a terrible day?’
‘Lucius?’ he questioned.
‘In Herculaneum.’
‘Good.’ Aulus smiled not with relief but a strange kind of satisfaction. He paused then added, ‘I’m pleased to hear that he is safe.’ He glanced pointedly at her steward, who had chosen to remain with her. ‘I wish to speak to your mistress in private.’
The steward frowned. ‘But my lady Sirona said –’
‘I am not to be questioned,’ Aulus interjected furiously. ‘When my stepson is not here, I am the master in this house. Order all the slaves to return to their quarters. They will be as safe there as they are here.’
Sirona had no wish to be left alone with this man, but Aulus was right, as Lucius’s paramour she had no real control over the slaves. Yet she wasn’t to be left totally alone with Aulus, because there were all the people that he had brought with him. She glanced at them and her heart sank. Now that they had removed their cloaks and washed the ash from their faces, she realised that she had seen them before but then they’d all been totally naked.
Her eyes widened nervously and she swallowed hard. Aulus did not know she had spied on their ceremony, so he had no cause to think she might be concerned by their presence in the villa. She looked nervously around, wondering if she could make a run for it. But where would she go?
‘Not so fast, barbarian whore.’ Aulus, sensing her intentions, grabbed hold
of her, digging his long fingers into her arms. ‘I have need of you.’
‘Need of me?’ she repeated nervously.
‘The gods are angry, can you not see that?’ Aulus hissed. ‘They must be appeased.’
‘Appeased, how?’ she asked, her mouth dry with fear.
‘Our god Dionysis requires a sacrifice.’ Sirona saw the deranged look in the senator’s eyes. ‘A human sacrifice, Sirona. It is you and your barbarian lover who brought this curse to our land. I can’t sacrifice him but I can you. As your blood drains into the ground, Dionysis will be appeased and this madness will end.’
The pumice was everywhere, covering both the road and the surrounding countryside as if Medusa had looked down upon the entire land turning it to stone. Taranis reckoned that by now night must have fallen, but there was no way to tell how many hours had passed – time had little meaning any more. They had decided to make for Stabiae, a town along the coast, where a friend of Julia’s, Pomponianus, had a number of small vessels docked. If it hadn’t been for one of the gladiators, they might well have wandered away from the road. The man had been born and raised in Stabiae so he could follow the road as easily as a blind man making his way round his own house.
The rock fall had lightened a little but the road was covered by pumice, which came more than halfway up their calves. It was like wading through a sea of grain. A journey that on a good day would only have taken an hour or so seemed to take forever. The pumice broke easily underfoot, and tiny pieces of rock made its way into sandals and boots alike. All the men wore helmets and armour and any extra clothing they could lay their hands on, even though it was incredibly hot. Sweat made the gritty ash stick to the skin, but all wore pieces of cloth tied across their lower faces so the stuff didn’t get in their noses or mouths. He’d insisted that Julia wear a pair of men’s long breeches under her skirt to further protect her legs. As all the helmets had been way too big for her, dropping down over her eyes to restrict her vision, he held a shield above her head to protect her from the rockfall.
They had torches, many of them, because almost fifty gladiators had decided to accompany them on this journey, including Taranis’s old comrades in arms, Leod and Olin. The remainder of the gladiators had either gone into the city to seek out women they were involved with or fled in different directions. A few had even chosen to take their chance and remain at the barracks.
Behind them was total darkness, apart from odd flashes of flame which appeared to come from high up near the summit of Vesuvius. They’d come across a number of dead bodies, both human and animal. The men had cut free a team of oxen and a number of horses, which had been left strapped to wagons or chariots while their owners took off on foot without thinking to release the poor creatures. They’d watched the animals struggle from their tombs of enveloping stones and flee into the countryside following their natural animal instinct for survival.
The men had also come across a small group of scantily clad, overly made-up young women, most probably prostitutes, who they’d been only too happy to rescue along with other stragglers fleeing from Pompeii.
Taranis tipped his shield at an angle to rid it of its covering of pumice and looked down at Julia. She was covered in ash and grime but she was still struggling on determinedly.
‘I could carry you?’ he suggested, just as he had done a number of times.
‘No.’ She shook her head, her voice muffled by the cloth across her face. ‘We’re almost there. Look.’ She pointed just ahead.
Taranis saw a cluster of lights, and he could even feel a faint refreshing breeze coming from the sea. ‘At last.’ Slipping the shield strap over his arm, he picked up Julia and strode swiftly forwards.
Vesuvius was five miles north east of Pompeii and they’d travelled about three miles from the other side of the city, he thought, as they entered Stabiae, yet the dark cloud still hung above them. So how large was this strange phenomenon?
Many people were looking nervously at the large group of armoured men, laden with weapons, as they walked into the town. The refugees were everywhere, sitting disconsolately on the pavements, bursting out of the taverns and food establishments; even conscientious citizens had welcomed them into their homes.
‘My mother’s friend has a house close to the sea,’ Julia said, as he set her down on her feet and heaved the shield across his back because, to his relief, the fall of stones had all but ceased now. Pulling his face mask down, Taranis took a deep breath. This close to the sea the air was a little clearer and he could see the white caps of the waves as they crashed against the shore. There were a large number of people crowded on to the wide beach. Clutching their most precious possessions, they waited for the bad weather to ease so that they could escape by boat, a number of which were anchored further out to sea. Judging by the flickering lights, there was also a number of larger vessels anchored even further offshore, perhaps rescue ships from the Imperial fleet.
Taranis regarded the waves. ‘The sea is very rough. I don’t think any of the vessels will be leaving yet.’ He glanced back in the direction of Vesuvius, thinking that he would rather take his chances on the angry seas than remain here for much longer. Larger fires were visible now on the upper slopes, leading him to suspect that there was still worse to come.
Sirona had never known such fear; it had spread like icy tendrils through her entire body. As she lay naked, bound hand and foot, on the floor of the huge salon, she had to clench her teeth to stop them from chattering. Yet she was far from cold as the usually chilly mosaic floor was warm, as if the earth was heating up somewhere deep underneath them.
Aulus and his companions were making preparations for this bizarre, totally insane ceremony, which would ultimately end in her death, while outside Mother Nature was wreaking her destructive forces on all of them. No sacrifice on earth could stop what was happening, Sirona was certain of that.
The odd thing was that none of these people showed any concern at what was happening outside, they appeared to have totally placed their trust in Aulus Vettius’s predictions that this would all end after her sacrifice. They had all stripped naked and were anointing each other with perfumed oils, their hands lingering suggestively on breasts and cocks, sliding between legs and buttock cheeks, as if they had all the time in the world to prepare for this ceremony.
Aulus was on his knees praying to Dionysis, begging the god to accept their noble sacrifice. There was another man with him, who was the same height and build as Lucius, with the same close-cropped dark hair. When he tied on his mask, Sirona at last knew for sure that she had been entirely wrong about her protector. Lucius had never been involved with this strange cult – it had been this man all along. Yet what good was this knowledge to her now? she considered in desperation, while a naked man began to play a flute and a woman discordantly clashed some cymbals together.
They broke open an amphora of Lucius’s best wine, mixed it with a fine white powder and greedily gulped it down, consuming at least three or four goblets each. Dionysis was the god of wine as well as all sexual excess. Someone lifted her head and placed a goblet to her lips. She tried to resist but they forced open her mouth and poured it down her throat until she had to swallow or she would have choked.
Sirona shivered as the man, who looked so uncannily like Lucius, stepped towards her. Kneeling down beside her, he began to anoint her breasts with the strongly scented oil. The man caressed her like a lover would, stroking the underside of her breasts, kneading them gently and circling her nipples with his fingertips. A warm ache formed between her thighs as he leant forwards and delicately sucked on each teat until they stiffened into hard peaks. Then his fingers circled her belly, gently pressing down on the soft flesh above her pubic mound.
Someone untied her ankles and two women held on to them, forcing her legs apart. Kneeling between them, the man ran his hands up the soft inner skin of her thighs and through her pubic curls. He was breathing heavily and his cock stiffened, as his fingers eased open h
er pussy lips. Sirona’s legs were trembling, half from terror, half from a bizarre kind of arousal, while a strange euphoria spread through her entire body. He leant forwards and delicately flicked his tongue against her clit, which had started to throb and burn. Slowly, he circled the tiny nub, then his lips fastened on it, licking and sucking until she wanted to scream with pleasure. She dug her teeth in her lower lip, trying not to utter a sound, fearing that her sexual arousal was somehow an integral ingredient in this strange ceremony. The skin of her belly tingled as the man carefully inserted three oiled fingers inside her vagina, slowly easing them deeper into her body, then sliding them back and forth while his lips still worked on her clit.
A soft moan escaped her lips, strangely she no longer cared about anything but her rising lust, as she shuddered and then climaxed quite violently. At once, the man drew away. ‘She is ready now, master.’
The discordant music became louder, drowning out the sounds of the stones drumming down on the roof, as Sirona was lifted bodily and placed, belly down, on a padded stool. It was just high enough to allow her knees to reach the floor, and was so narrow that only her stomach was supported, and her full breasts hung down towards the floor.
A man stepped forwards and grabbed hold of her arms, keeping them straight, almost parallel to her body, while one of the women rolled on to her back and slid under Sirona until her entire face was directly beneath her breasts. She fastened her lips around one like a leech, pulling it deep into her mouth, nibbling, squeezing and pulling at the teats. Sirona’s arousal magnified, despite the fact she’d climaxed only moments earlier. Wild sensual thoughts were all that filled her head now, the wine or whatever it was had somehow managed to extinguish all her fears. People were crowded around her, hands touching her body, fingers sliding into her pussy, others invading her anus. The rest were sucking, fucking and jerking off just as they had before. The myriad of sensations exploded into another equally earth-shattering climax and her body shook with the intensity of her orgasm, as her vision became hazy, as if they were all part of some erotic dream.
Barbarian Prize Page 22
